Raisonne Curse (10 page)

“You should probably close your mouth before he gets any ideas.”

She wanted to tell Pryor that thread of annoyance in his tone wasn’t needed. Yeah, the man was good looking in an overly furry way, but she still felt taken. Maybe that was wishful thinking on her part, but after last night…and this morning, she had no interest in anyone else.

Pryor held up his hands. “Now, Ricky. Put that gun away.”

Ricky was not a name that fit this man. At all. If that gun hadn’t been pointing their direction, she would have been fighting to cover a laugh.

“
Je sais que c’est un grand abus je te fais.”
Pryor leaned closer to her. “I just told him that I know it’s a big imposition I’m making on him. The LaBarres don’t like people showing up. But they don’t have a phone either, so there is never really a choice.”

“Je m’adresse pas â toi!”

“English, Ricky. It’s rude when the sweet lady here doesn’t understand.”

“I not talking to you!
Tu as pas d’affaire ici!”

Pryor sighed. “I do have business here. We had an accident at home and lost a lot of supplies. I’d like to replenish them, but for now, how about we just talk about the bastard seeds, hmm?”

“Who is she?” He nodded that thick, shaggy head toward Elita. The shock over the utter beauty of his face still had a hold on her. She’d kill for those cheekbones.

“My name is Elita. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, hoping he’d lower the rifle.

“Raisonne?” He lowered the gun then. “Ma’man Raisonne’s girl?”

“I’m her granddaughter.”

He frowned.

“My mother was also Elita. They like the name in my family.”

“You, I will speak with.
Ce bougre est achalant
.” He sneered at Pryor.

“You’re kind of annoying yourself there.” Pryor sneered back at him. “Is your sister home? She always did understand the importance of money the most. Maybe she’ll sell me some bastard seeds.”

“Elle s’est accolée avec son ami longtemps passé.”
He shrugged.
“Coullion.”

“I didn’t know she had a boyfriend or that she moved. How did your brother take that?”

“He was ready for her to go. She’s a shrill one.” Ricky shrugged. “While you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful. He got another
cunja
.”

Pryor shook his head. “I’m offering cash this time.”

“Your money is no good here.
Il est abattu de la migraine
.”

“Bob needs a doctor for those headaches, not a hex breaker.”

Pink showed on the parts of his face not covered by that thick beard.
“Je m’accuse d’avoir jure.”

“You cursed your brother, Ricky? Really?”

“He’s an asshole, bro.” He shrugged. “Will you help him anyway?”

Pryor’s eyes closed briefly before he nodded. “Okay, take me to him.”

Elita couldn’t understand why he’d acquiesced so fast. She put her hand on his arm. “Really? You’re going to do magic?” That was when she remembered that he had no choice once someone asked outright. She squeezed his arm, hating the hold this had over him.

“Don’t worry. We need those seeds.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and whispered in her ear. “I really have no choice. I’ll do something small.” He straightened up. “Hey, do you think your brother will sell me some salvia?”

“Now you know he won’t admit to growing that.”

Pryor grinned. “He won’t admit to growing shit when it comes to me.”

“True, Bernaux, true.” Ricky swung the rifle up on his shoulder.

Elita flinched when it swiveled around—she couldn’t help it.

“Don’t know why you’re worried. Salvia is legal to have it as long as it isn’t meant for human consumption.”

Big, bushy, black eyebrows came together as Ricky scowled. “Whatever the hell else would it be used for, bro? Don’t want you pokin’ around our house. You wait here and I’ll get the bastard seeds. And Bob.”

He sauntered off and Elita saw that he was barefoot. “You couldn’t pay me to walk around here without shoes. Look at all the sharp pieces of metal. And what’s this?” She knelt and pushed aside a sad-looking stuffed armadillo to see a gorgeous, framed, antique mirror. “Why in the world would they leave something like this out in the elements?” She ran her hand over the carved wooden frame that had faded and cracked.

“They hoard. There are more things out here than you can possibly think up.” Pryor’s voice faded as he moved away from her. “I’m going to take a peek at the garden.”

Elita stayed where she was, her head moving left and right as she took in the…stuff. So much stuff. She smirked, remembering a comedy skit she’d caught once about people needing bigger houses for more stuff. These LaBarres didn’t need a house—they planned to fill up the bayou.

She was about to stand up when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She froze as a wave of ugly, black hatred seemed to spill over her shoulders, causing every hair on her body to stand on end.

Oh no, not now. Not here.

As slowly as possible, she turned her face back to that mirror, expecting to see a ghost. Her eyes flaring painfully wide when she spotted the creature crouched behind her. Had that gator been in the reflection before? Why would one be this far up onto this crazy, cluttered property? And wouldn’t she have noticed a stuffed creature that big?

As she stared at it, the thing slowly turned its head to look at her.

Yellow-brown eyes with huge black pupils glittered.

The terror that slammed into her body made her instantly nauseous. She could outrun it—alligators weren’t that fast on land really, not for distance. But they could lunge like nobody’s business. If she could get a head start, climb something, she’d be fine. They preferred to attack their prey in the water. But it was looking at her like she’d been chosen for dinner and she was at a disadvantage kneeling here. She couldn’t take her eyes off it as she tried to remember how close she was to the rusted out Plymouth carcass. She could climb on top of it if she jumped up fast enough and dashed.

Just as she was about to move, Pryor touched her shoulder and she screamed.

“Whoa! What is it?” He pulled her up and looked around fast.

Elita had been ready to push him into running, but when she looked at the spot that had held that gator, nothing was there but a stuffed alligator gar about an eighth of the size of the thing she’d been looking at in the mirror. She squatted back down, looked and saw nothing but the fish. Her hands shook as Pryor pulled her back to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, unable to process because she’d seen a huge alligator and she’d seen it move…look at her. She pulled back from Pryor and put a hand on her own chest to try and calm her racing heart. “I thought I saw something. Sorry for freaking out like that.”

Her scream must have been loud because Ricky and his brother skidded to a stop, breathing hard like they’d run all the way here.

“Qui c’est qui fait un pareil haut-le-corps?”
the new brother yelled.

Red-hot humiliation managed to chase away the last of the fear. “I thought I saw something. Sorry for the yelling.”

“Now, Bob, Elita wasn’t making a commotion, so there’s no need to shout.” Pryor frowned and pulled Elita closer to his side. “That must hurt if you have a migraine like your brother said.”

“Hurts like I got gator hooks in three different spots in my brain.”

Elita winced, then managed not to stare in shock. This brother looked so much like the other, they should have been twins. He wore jeans, a blue, ratty T-shirt and had dirty brown tennis shoes on his feet, but tufts of thick black hair stuck out of the top of his collar and turned his arms dark. He had tons of long, flowing, black hair. And just like Ricky, his face was gorgeous. Now she kind of desperately wanted to see their sister. Would she be as stunning as these guys? Had she been spared in the hair department? Elita could only hope so for the unknown woman.

“You guys are lucky Elita and I picked up some plants today. I have to go back to my boat and get the mugwort. What kind of hex did you do, Ricky?”

Bob’s eyes, which had already been narrowed in pain, nearly disappeared in his instant squint. “What hex?”

Elita stepped back. Who knew how the huge Bob would react to finding out his brother had put the
cunja
on him. She held her breath, waited, a part of her still looking around her feet for the ghost gator she’d seen in the mirror. She shivered, wondered if the smudge man had something to do with that and what would have happened if she’d watched that creature crawl closer in the reflection.

“You hexed me?” Bob’s voice came out in a low, gravelly growl.

Ricky didn’t answer. He merely crossed his thick arms and stared mutinously before he turned to Pryor. “There’s mugwort over there.” He tilted his head.
“J’ai eu un accidnet dedans mon jardin,
so watch out for the snakes.”

“What did he say?” she whispered when Pryor started laughing.

“He said he had an accident in the garden.”

“Damn fool brother dropped the live bait cage in there.” Bob stomped that direction. “Every cottonmouth in the bayou moved in.”

“Live bait cage?” Elita grimaced, swatting at a couple of persistent flies. “Do I even want to know?”

“How do you think they lure all these animals they stuff?”

“I’m not much for killing things when it’s not for food.” She thought of the fishermen who looked forward to gator hunting season every year to help earn enough to take care of their families. They did keep the population down. “Or for livelihood.” But all these stuffed animals with their glittering glass eyes unnerved her. It was positively barbaric. She looked at Ricky to find him watching her with an overly confident leer. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“We eat everything we kill.” He chuckled and she knew the warm, friendly sound that belied the unattractive egomania pouring off him, probably lured plenty of women in.

She pointed near her feet. “You ate the armadillo? Let me guess, it tasted like chicken?”

“Meat’s too red for chicken.” He shrugged, tilted his head, and brushed his hand through the crazy mane. “You should come stay.
Avec moi
,” he murmured.
“Les filles s’adoucissent vite.”

Elita’s mouth dropped open. “I think I got that.” She looked at Pryor. “Please tell me I didn’t get that right.”

“What did you get?” Pryor was shaking his head and glaring at Ricky.

“The girls become tame quickly living with him?”

He grimaced. “Yeah, you pretty much got it. He won’t do anything more than talk, so don’t worry about staying here with him. I’m going into the garden with Bob. I have to weave a garland of mugwort.” He winked at her. “I might even thread in some flowers. Gonna make Bob wear it on his head for the next week. Should go great with all that long hair.”

She covered her mouth to hide the smirk. But her amusement faded as she watched him walk into the snake-infested garden. She knew he didn’t want to do any spell work today, knew he was worried about the backlash.

She crossed her arms and stared at Ricky. “You know, telling a woman you can tame her isn’t the best way to lure one into your…” She looked around at the massive amounts of…crap. “Lair.”

“Got no problems luring.”

She frowned when she spotted the entire family of stuffed nutria. The huge rats had become a problem in the area, but still. “Please tell me you didn’t eat those.” She pointed.

“They make good jerky.”

She barely managed to hold back her automatic gag reflex at the thought, wondering if she looked as awkward as she felt standing there with the hairy, crazy-gorgeous, half-naked man staring at her. “Think you could give me a deal on more plants out of your garden? I, um…” She hated admitting this to someone, but really had no choice. “I burned down the Bernaux spell room. I’m looking to restock them.”

Those fascinating brows lifted. It was like watching chalkboard erasers climb his face. “You burned it down?”

“It was an accident,” she snapped.

He laughed and this time, he sounded genuinely amused. “I like you. You come back another day without Pryor, eh? We talk, you and me.”

She couldn’t help but grin at him. “Man, you lay it on thick. I’ll come back, but hopefully it won’t be alone. I like that man dodging serpents in your garden—I like him a lot. You get what I mean?”

He nodded and this time, his smile was a lot friendlier. “I saw that right off. He feels the same, him.”

“I hope so,” she muttered half under her breath. “I really hope so.”

After that, Ricky was friendlier and he used a lot less French so she could keep up with the conversation. Her Ma’man wasn’t one to use the language and though Elita had grown up around swampers who did, she’d never taken the time to really pay attention. Ava knew more, though she liked to pretend she didn’t. Said she learned more of the old ways like that.

Pryor sought her out half an hour later, finding her laughing with the now perfectly friendly LaBarre brother as he showed her his collection of gnomes. Really, she could not understand the need to own this many of them. Or even the attraction to the things. Though she did kind of like the zombie ones. Ma’man would get a real kick out of having those things lurking around her garden.

Annoyance made Pryor’s voice low and gritty. “Looks like someone with a lot more power than Ricky hexed Bob. We’re gonna be here awhile.”

Chapter Ten

Worry rode Pryor like the smothering, summer humidity clung to his skin as they climbed back into the boat. The sun—a fat, orange globe—sat low in the sky between stands of tall trees. Lower than he liked for the trip back. They were a couple of hours out even in the fast airboat. He and his brothers had always been so careful to never be out this far after using their magic. It was what had killed his uncles. They performed a hex breaker too far from home and hadn’t made it back in time.

He would have never left this so late, but he’d had no choice. That mess with Bob turned out to be tougher than he’d expected. It was possible Ricky had put a small curse on his brother, but Ricky had no power and there was something attached to the older LaBarre brother that came from someone who did carry the spark. Much more than a spark, actually. The older man’s curse had been a lot like Elita’s with a heavy, tarp-like feel that covered his shoulders. He’d asked Bob who he’d wronged and got the only grin he’d ever seen on that grouchy man’s face as he’d bragged about his many enemies. “
J’ai beaucoup d’ennemis!
Who haven’t I done wrong?”

Searching out the source would have been impossible even though Ricky had showed him their newest gnome that had showed up on their front porch, smelling like piss. Peeing on a cursed totem. Wasn’t a new way to pass along a hex around here. Pryor shuddered. He loathed that one. Not that he liked any of them, but that one was particularly nasty. People were stupid, messing with what they didn’t understand. Just as with anything, there was always a price to pay for using magic. Someone out there probably had one hell of a nasty bladder infection.

Pryor ended up having to give Bob a head wash and because the brothers never let anyone up to their home hidden in the trees, they’d had to make do with a long hose. Ricky had brought salt and conditioner while Bob found rosemary in the garden.

Now, Pryor glanced over at Elita.

She grinned at him. “Those men were a trip. I kept pointing at things and asking Ricky if he’d eaten them and he nodded every time.”

“There isn’t much some of the locals will pass up if they’re hungry enough.”

She rubbed her stomach. “I can’t believe how hungry I am considering how disgusting the thought of their food was. You know what sounds good right now? Po boys. I’ve got a batter for fried shrimp that will make your mouth water just smelling it. We could go to Ma’man’s. She has a lot.”

They did sound good. His stomach growled. “I wish we could. Wish it with all my heart. But I have to get back to my part of the swamp tonight. I do have some frozen shrimp we could put in water as soon as we get home.”

“There’s still some of that bread left too.” She grinned. “The best po boys come on fresh homemade, toasted bread. Too bad I never got to make any yesterday. There is nothing I like more than homemade bread.”

Pryor groaned. “You’re killing me. I could be full and I’d still want to taste your food.” He steered the boat around a sharp turn. “So, what’s in the batter?”

She wagged her finger. “Uh, uh. I don’t share my secrets until we’ve shared blood.”

“Blood?”

“Sure. Blood brothers can always be trusted.” This time, she winked and something in his belly turned over.

She was just so. Damned. Cool.

“I have a question about your hex work.” Her tone had changed. Grown more hesitant.

“Shoot.”

She had to yell because he’d sped the boat up. “Why didn’t you just use the bastard cedar seeds on Bob?”

“I get why you’re asking.” He nodded, adjusted his headset. “It would make sense that the strongest supplies would be a better choice. Thing is, I need those seeds for a generational spell to kill the Raisonne curse completely. It’s strong, strong magic and I don’t want to use it without my brothers.”

“But what you did was still more than you planned, right?”

“Yeah.” A lot more and because it took so long, dark was going to hit soon and they weren’t in the right part of the swamp.

“I’m curious about something else.” Her cheeky grin warned him her next question was gonna be a doozy. “Was all that hair as soft as it looked?”

Pryor lifted an eyebrow. He was well aware of how attractive the LaBarre brothers were to a lot of women—ones who went for the big bear sort. He had to admit that it would bother him a lot if Elita felt that way. Not because she found hairier men attractive, but that she would be thinking of any other man that way. He was already dangerously attached to her. “I wasn’t really paying attention to how his hair felt.” He started to laugh as a memory came to him.

“What’s so funny?”

“
Mamere
always said that if we masturbated too much, we’d grow hair on our hands.”

She snorted so loudly, it came through the headset. “Ricky and Bobby must have been busy, busy boys.”

“No doubt.” And Ricky had barely taken his eyes off Elita the entire time they were there. It had gotten to the point Pryor quit trusting him to keep his hands to himself and he’d ended up tugging Elita over to stand close to him while he’d given Bob the head wash. And damn, but he hadn’t planned to use that sort of magic today. Already, his palms were starting to blister.

“If it weren’t for the hoarding and the animal stuffing, I’d introduce Ava to Ricky. She likes her men hairy.”

With effort, Pryor pushed away his worry and sped up the boat. They passed a small motorboat and the fishermen waved and were probably surprised when he didn’t stop to say hi. He probably could have bought something fresh off them, but didn’t have the time. “She should date Mercer, then. My brother stole all the chest hair before our mama had Wyatt and me. He’s been growing a beard too.”

“I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

Pryor was both looking forward to and dreading his brothers’ arrival. There was no doubt in his mind that either one would take one look at him with Elita and know there was trouble.

His hands started to go numb. Damn, he needed to get home. Mercer and Wyatt were supposed to arrive tonight and already, he felt that hollow sort of grasp the magic got on his system, the drag of someone or something taking the reins. It took effort to keep the fear under wraps so he didn’t worry the sweet woman next to him.

“Wow.” Elita pointed. “That’s a picture perfect sunset if I ever saw one.”

Following her finger, Pryor’s heart swelled as he took in the setting sun. They were in a narrow part of the bayou and the lowering sun glittered huge and hot. The way it sat in the sky made it seem as if rays of light were streaming out in six different directions. It was like the star was showing itself to them in all its glory.

“I love this time of day on the bayou,” Elita said, her voice lowering as he slowed the boat to better take in the absolute beauty ahead of them. “Mostly,” she muttered and slapped at a bug on her arm.

“When I was a kid, my dad would take me and my brothers out on the family boat. It was this old twenty-footer piece of crap that he loved like crazy. We’d hunt bullfrogs so
Mamere
could fry them up for dinner.”

Elita shuddered. “Never been a fan of those. Yuck.”

“He always took us out early enough so we could hit this one part of the swamp where sunset made you feel like magic ruled all the world and not just those of us unfortunate enough to be caught in her grip.” He reached out and threaded his fingers with hers. “I’d like to take you to that spot one night. We’ll skip the bullfrog part.”

She squeezed his fingers. “I’d like that. Very much.” Then she frowned. “So in
her
grip, eh? You think magic is a woman?”

“What else can tangle you into a heaping mess and be so beautiful you can’t breathe? Of course she’s a woman.”

The weakness creeping into his system at an alarming rate made him realize he had no choice. He had to explain things to her and explain them fast. He stopped the boat, looked out over the still noisy swamp before closing his eyes. Just long enough to whisper some kind of prayer that she’d get them home before he turned. He’d seen it. Seen what he looked like during the payback. Still had nightmares about it. He didn’t want this wonderful woman seeing it. Ever. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned to her. “Can you drive this thing?”

She nodded, eyes going so wide, the whites stood out in the dim light left. “My uncle had one and taught my cousins and me when we were still kids.”

“You need to listen to me. I need you to get me home.” The trees moved into a swirl as dizziness swamped him. “I’m making you privy to another Bernaux secret. We can’t be away from the swamp when we do magic.”

“But we’re right on the swamp.”

“Our part of it. None of our family has ever been ever to explain why and we have no way of finding out the crazy reason, but that’s the way it is. It’s one of the reasons my brothers only stay away a short time, and why they go so far away from here. Nobody knows to ask for help away from these parts.” He swayed, held on to the back of the black seat. “Nobody can makes direct requests for hex work.”

She touched his face and he turned his cheek into her touch. “You really can’t turn people down, can you?” she asked.

“No. Which is why I helped Bob back there. But it’s normally not something any of us do this far from home. I think the payback is coming on faster because I’m not in the right part of the water. I’ve never been away when I did it. People always come to us. It’s why one of us is always at the house no matter what. Why I set my business there.”

“What payback?” Alarm filled her voice, making it louder, her tone higher. “It’s more than just blistered hands? I knew it!”

He knew the smile he tried to give her was weak. “Everything has a price. Everything wants payback. You grew up in the swamp and know just like the rest of us that nothing comes easy in this world.”

“But what you do helps people. That’s not fair.”

“That’s another thing I’m surprised you haven’t learned. Life is hardly fair.”

“Oh, I’ve learned that.” She growled and the sound was so cute, he managed a grin. “I just don’t like it.”

“Me neither, Elita. Me neither.” His vision turned black at the edges and that creeping numbness moved up past his knees. “I’m sorry I have to ask you to get us back. Do you think you can find it?”

“I was paying attention. I’m pretty sure I know the way.”

Pryor cursed softly. He didn’t even have a map on him—not that he had any recent ones and the basin changed all the time. What was land one day could be water the next. Before he could tell her more, the dark crept in and he only had time to collapse down on the floor of the boat.

“Oh my God, Pryor!”

Elita scrambled down next to him. His chest still moved with his breaths, his skin still radiated heat and sounds still rumbled from his throat—though the latter stopped fast. She stroked his face, loving the rasp of stubble against her palm, hoping he’d turn into her touch as he had before. But he lay there, still and now silent. She put her ear on his chest and his heart beat reassuringly strong. That eased her mind a bit, but not enough. She stood and tugged on his arm to bring him more toward the middle of the airboat’s floorboard. He was going to get wet if she moved as fast as she wanted, but it couldn’t be helped. Mosquitoes already swarmed, stinging her arms, so she hurriedly grabbed the repellent and held one hand over Pryor’s nose and mouth and sprayed him down first. She then coated herself before hurrying back to the seats. She started the boat and grabbed the steering stick, keeping the vehicle in neutral as she accelerated.

While most had regular boats around here, a few used the airboats, so she was familiar with them. She could get them home. Her main worry was keeping Pryor from falling out because he rolled slightly when she pushed the stick all the way forward to turn the boat right and get them back on track. She slowed, too scared to go fast then.

She was guessing she was still an hour from the Bernaux part of the swamp when full dark hit.

It fell over the bayou like someone had poured a huge bucket of ink over their heads. And unlike the other night when the eerie silence had made her feel like she’d entered alien territory, the night sounds here spilled over the quiet in a concert so familiar and so loud, it rivaled the noise of the motor.

Light from the boat picked up trees in front and the darkness swallowed them as she rolled past. Some of the cypress and tupelo trees curved into the sky like dancing ghosts. Some stood straight with thick trunks that flared out like skirts. Sometimes, the light picked up the glow of eyes. Owls or creatures creeping along the shore. She spotted a gator watching just above the surface of the water.

Something huge and loud crashed just ahead and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.

Elita stopped the boat, glad when the noise of the motor finally went quiet. She looked at Pryor to find their stopped motion hadn’t even awakened him. She knelt beside him, placed her palm on his chest. His shirt, soaked with sweat, felt cool against her palm—probably from the wind. His heart beat, still reassuring and strong underneath. “Pryor,” she whispered even though she didn’t know why. They were the only humans in this spot and animals would hear her easily.

Owls hollered from both sides of the water, some so close they had to be in the tree limbs above her. The crickets’ song, loud and piercing, made her ears ring. The boom of bullfrogs echoed on either side of her as well. The saw grass was so thick she could only imagine the number of snakes slithering around in there.

Something moved in the brush to their right.

She held her breath, stood, and grabbed a flashlight. She aimed it that direction and slowly moved the beam left and right. It rolled over tree trunks and leaves and she whirled to her right when something moved again.

Leaves and small branches crunched with the slow footsteps.

It could be a deer. Could be anything. Why this rancid, black terror filled her was anyone’s guess, but years of dealing with the Raisonne curse and the last few weeks dealing with the smudge man made her overly suspicious. Pryor was completely helpless passed out like that. She stood protectively over him, slowly panning the flashlight.