Reborn (18 page)

“Whatchu gonna do wit that, redneck, roast a marshmallow?” someone else called out.

Each laugh, each hateful remark built my anger, until I was a tower of rage about to topple and demolish them all.

As Tyrell’s fist came up again, I saw something shiny tucked against the inside of his arm, glinting off the streetlight. I brought my arm forward, and with the makeshift whip, struck him hard across one side of his ribs, but not before the weapon he had concealed cut me. I lashed out again, ignoring the sharp sting on my forearm and the fresh blood dripping down the back of my hand. Again and again, I cracked the stick across his arms, shoulders, and back. Each time I struck him, a power beyond anything I’d ever known fuelled me onward. Tyrell ceased fighting back and instead took a protective stance, crouching away from the assault.

From somewhere in the crowd, a woman yelled at me to stop. When I had Tyrell reduced to a lump on the ground, I threw the stick on the pavement beside him and hauled him back up with my fists. His blood-soaked T-shirt, ripped to shreds, hung off him in tatters. In his eyes, fear had replaced the cocky rage he’d once exuded. When he stood on his own two feet, I released my hold on him. He didn’t fight back. My shoulders heaved as I fought to control my breathing, while glaring at the crowd and the fear on their faces. No one jeered now.

Sirens blared in the distance.

Tyrell’s friends grabbed him, got him into a car, then sped away. The small blade he cut me with lay at my feet. Desiree stood off to one side, alone, looking completely frightened.

The crowd broke up. Desiree grabbed my wrist and tugged. I lifted my feet and ran with her. She was in her car with the engine running when I jumped in. We were a couple blocks away from the coffee shop when she finally spoke.

“I-I didn’t think you would fight back at first, and then when you did… I didn’t think you would stop.”

I’d already forgotten what went through my mind in those moments of rage, but I had whipped the spunk out of that boy, and I had felt energized at the time—not so much now. I remembered a power like no other covering me, filling me, consuming me like a swiftly growing disease. It had controlled my every move. Then there was that bullying voice behind it all, cajoling me onward. It wasn’t the evil Solomon’s voice; I was sure of that, but familiar, nonetheless.

“Solomon?”

Her voice rang softly through my ears in the compact car. Although I was overcome with distress from the recent fight, the closeness of Desiree dulled the ache of the battle scars.

“Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath and unstuck my bloody fingers from each other.

“I’m fine. What about you? They touched you against your will. After that…”

“Yeah.” Her bottom lip disappeared under her top one, again.

“Did they hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said.

She glanced at my arm, then quickly back to the road.

“Your arm is bleeding.” Her speed accelerated. “I’ll get you cleaned up when we get to my apartment.”

The blue sofa in Desiree’s modest apartment fit only two people. She sat sideways, one foot tucked underneath her, facing me as I stared out the large window at what looked like blue and red lights flashing in the distance. She worked gently to clean and dress the knife wound on my arm. After rinsing the blood out of the cloth, she brought it to the minor cut above my eyebrow. When she lifted hair off my forehead and pressed it back out of the way, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the warmth her hand brought to that spot on my head.

“Stay away from the coffee shop,” she said, her face inches from my ear. “Tyrell’s got friends, and I don’t think you do, at least, not around here.”

When I rolled my head to face her, she backed up her command with a pointed look.

Silence.

Then she slid her hand to my cheek, and my heart pitched forward.

“I should never have gone there tonight,” I said wincing as Desiree poked lightly at the lump on the side of my head.

“Sorry,” she said, wincing also.

“You never did tell me where you’re staying.”

I thought for a moment before confessing anything. I didn’t know how much she knew about Melba’s Hoodoo world that I was caught up in.

She cocked her head slightly, waiting for an answer.

“Right. I’m staying at the Rainbow Motel.”

Her mood seemed to lighten. “I know it.”

She changed focus to the cut, dabbed one more time, and then stuck a bandage over it.

“Melba thought it best I move out… so the neighbors didn’t talk.”

One corner of her mouth lifted along with both thin eyebrows. “Auntie Mel doesn’t have any neighbors, except for that bunch way up the road, so I’m not buying that.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Did you want to leave?”

“Desiree, there’s more going on than you should know about. The spirits—”

A smile grew across her face. “Spirits? Auntie Mel’s spirits? She didn’t spook you with all that mumbo jumbo talk, did she? She’s conversed with ghosts for as long as I can remember. Of course, she believes someone is really listening.”

“You don’t?”

She shrugged. “All right, I admit I’m sort of on the fence. I never used to believe, but then I had this dream not so long ago; three Hoodoo priestesses from the past gave me a warning, said they were my ancestors, and that darkness drew near, and I was in danger, or something like that.” She paused a moment, as if deep into her thoughts. “That was right before I met you, actually.”

A chill ran through me. “Believe them. There are things going on that I don’t understand. My past, for instance. This isn’t a bad case of amnesia I have.”

“Then what is it?”

I let out a frustrated breath.

She grabbed my hand and slipped hers in my palm. The backs of my newly cleaned fingers rested against her knee. I curled them loosely around her, burying her delicate hand inside my powerful one—the one that had held the whipping stick.

“What, Solomon? You can tell me.”

“I don’t really know myself. I saw the spirits. Three of them. They protected Excalibur from… from my evil twin.” I held back the next breath and looked on with bated anticipation.

“What? I don’t understand.”

As she stared into my eyes, waiting for an explanation, the table lamp behind me flickered, illuminating her pupils and the green rings surrounding them. Mirrored in the glossy, black centers of her eyes, I could have sworn I saw three wisps of smoke. But when I turned to look behind me, I saw just the lamp, steadily aglow again. Maybe the dangling fringe of clear beads around the rim of the shade was what I saw. When I bumped the lamp base with my elbow, light cast off the beads into a frenzy of striations on the yellow wall behind it. I accepted the excuse to save my sanity.

“Solomon?”

I turned, fixed my gaze on Desiree’s, and prepared to tell her the truth.

“Solomon Brandt, the notorious slave owner of the eighteen-hundreds. He’s been haunting me in my dreams
and
when I’m awake. His spirit chased me through the woods, and came after me at your aunt’s, but the three priestesses held him back—I think.”

She curled her fingers tighter around mine, reminding me that her hand was still in my grip.

“Are you telling me you actually saw the Priestesses? And the other Solomon Brandt?”

“Solomon, several times.”

“Those must have been bad dreams you had.” Her thoughtful gaze passed over my shoulder. “I want to help you get to the bottom of them.”

With an urge too strong to control, I lifted my other hand and placed it on her arm. The sleeve of her blouse felt silky against my skin. When I rubbed my thumb against the alluring material, the neckline opened slightly, exposing part of her collarbone and the dark crevice above it. Feelings I’d never experienced before awakened inside my stomach. A cool sensation traveled along my veins, surfacing on my face. As I stared at the newly exposed skin, I gripping her upper arm in a most gentle but determined way. I was aware of Desiree drawing nearer to me.

When I lifted my gaze to hers, I could tell by the new spark her eyes held, and the sudden heaviness of her lids, that she was as drawn to this moment as I was. My heart lurched forward, pulling my body with it. I slid my hand around back of her neck, under her ponytail, using my fingers as a guide to nudge her closer—not that she needed coaxing.

She’d already slipped her hand out of mine and inched it between my ribs and the sofa, resting it on my lower back.

“Desiree.” My mouth watered at the thought of tasting her, she was so close, but I felt it only fair to warn her first.” I don’t think it’s safe for you to be near me.”

“I’ll worry about that,” she whispered, her breath caressing my lips, heightening my urges.

At the same time that her eyes fell shut and I opened my mouth to claim hers, the apartment door flew open, banging against the wall.

“
Desi
!”

My heart pounded to new heights as we sprang apart and cast looks of surprise and resentment at the intruder.

She was already in the room, standing directly in front of us.

“Are you all right, Des?” Her straight blonde hair was a mess against one side of her head, and her pajama bottoms were in a twist at her slender waist. “Oh. My. God. I just heard what happened from Karen.”

As if she just noticed me in the room, she took a step back, her wide-eyed gaze roaming down my body. “Whoa.”

Desiree flashed me a flustered look, then stood.

“Chrissy, I’m fine. See.” She held out her arms and did a spin.”

“But Karen said—”

“There was some trouble, but…” Desiree paused, as though thinking of just how much information to give her obviously close friend. “Solomon came to my rescue, and everything is fine now.”

That was the inaccurate short version. Hopefully, her friend would accept it.

But Chrissy plopped into the only chair in the room, a red and gold striped, armless chair.

She looked at me, her hazel eyes big and curious. “Wow, so you were just there out of the blue, huh? Is that how you two met?” She brought a finger to her lip. “Yet you were kissing.”

She turned her attention to Desiree. “You never kiss on the first date.”

“What is this, a courtroom?”

“Just saying.”

“What are you still doing here?”

“Waiting for Karen.”

“
What
?”

Desiree stomped off to the far side of the room, which doubled as a modest kitchen.

“Well, you didn’t think we were going to let you spend the night alone after Tyrell attacked you, did you?” Chrissy called over her shoulder. “So,” she said, focusing back on me, one leg swinging rapidly over the other, “how did you two meet?”

“
Chrissy
!”

“Okay.” Her eyes rolled to the ceiling. “I’ll go wait on the balcony. Geez.”

Desiree sounded more annoyed than I felt. I thought it best I leave. She seemed to be in good hands.

“I’m sorry,” she said, rushing to my side once we were semi-alone. “Apparently she isn’t leaving my side tonight.”

“I should go anyway. It’s late. I’m sorry I showed up. If I hadn’t—”

She pressed a finger to my mouth to shush it. “No. I’m glad you came.”

With her smile lighting up the room, I forgot for a second about her friend peering in at us from the other side of the patio door. I wrapped my hand around her slender wrist and kissed her fingers, then let her go.

“I’m going to help you, Solomon. We’ll figure this out together.”

Before I entered the stairwell, I glanced back to see Desiree standing in her doorway, smiling. Beside her, three wisps of light gray mist appeared, hovering in the hallway. She would be safe tonight.