Reborn (27 page)

usk fringed the Atlanta skyline in hues of deep blue and gray. The towers of light, peeping through the murk, seemed to grow taller as we neared the city. Besides the low hum of noise Melba called music coming from the car radio, silence had reigned between us for the last hour of the journey. I could tell by the furrow between her brows and the death grip she held on the steering wheel, worry, not music, kept her company.

I, too, had fallen into my own vat of silent distress. Minutes passed like hours at thoughts of Desiree in peril. Every now and then a weak flash overcame my thinking, casting my brain in a thick, heavy cloud of dread. In those moments, I could barely sense myself, stretched like a thin sheet of paper against the seat of the car. And when those torturous spells faded, a languorous heaviness settled upon me once more, and a dull ache gripped the sides of my head.

Melba made a right turn, away from the traffic and the rising steel jungle, onto a quieter street lined with large houses set behind sweeping lawns.

"Are we near?" I asked, scanning the neighborhood through the rain battering the windshield.

"Just up here."

In the same instant that she made a left turn, the nagging sickness stopped. My body settled into a more natural balance between light and heavy. I sat up. Except for the fissure in my heart, I felt… normal, strong.

"What? What is it?" Melba shared her puzzled gaze between me and the road.

"We're close."

"Yes. It's just up here." Melba said with a hint of suspicion. "The next driveway, I think."

"No. We're close to Excalibur."

"What?"

The tires squealed as the car came to an abrupt stop.

"Did you see something?" she asked.

With a subtle headshake, I peered past the wipers sweeping the battering rain off the windshield and into the night. "No, but I feel like myself again, like I did before this sickness invaded my body, like I did before he took Excalibur away. He has to be somewhere nearby."

"Hope you're right… sort of."

Melba turned the wheel, pulling the car into the driveway beside us. "Celeste lives here. In the Ansley Park area."

"Judging by the homes, I would assume Celeste has money." I spoke into the side window, not really caring for an answer.

"Never assume anything. Nothing about Celeste is what it seems."

We drove past the large brick house into the backyard, and headed straight toward a small dwelling in a back corner of the property.

"This is where Celeste hangs her fortune telling sign. In a hovel behind the house she's paid to clean."

"Strange the owners would allow it in such a lavish neighbourhood."

"The owner is her brother. Trash with money."

She shut off the ignition and turned to look at me with a hand on the door handle. "Now mind what you say. In fact, don’t say anything at all. I'll do the talking."

"What is it about this woman that makes you so nervous? Is she a danger to Desiree?"

With a fist secured to the red pouch around her neck, she opened the door and stepped out into the downpour, ignoring my last question. Melba stopped under the little porch roof. The yellow gleam from the outside light backlit the darkness in her eyes. "No more talk. We're on her territory now."

She glared at me until I gave in and nodded. Then she released her grip on the charm and wrapped her knuckles on the screen door, rattling a string of tiny bones hanging from a hinge.

Perfumed wisps of smoke seeped through the screen door, tickling my throat, blending with the foggy air. In the same instant, the clop of heels on wood echoed from inside, coming closer.

"Hold on, hold on, I'm coming." A rattling noise grew louder as a tall woman appeared through a thin veil of smoke. "What in blazes does anyone want with my services this time of night? You can clearly see my light ain't on." A purple light flicked on and then off again.

"Celeste."

The woman caught her breath. Holding her chest with a ring-adorned hand, she squinted, looking from my companion to me, then back to my companion.

"Melba, darling. What on earth brings you at this late hour?"

"Aren't you going to invite us in?"

I hoped the impatience in Melba's voice wasn’t as obvious to Celeste as it was to me.

Our hostess reached between us and pushed the door open, then stepped aside. "Of course. Please come in."

The woman's long-lashed gaze fixed to me again—all over me.

"My, what handsome company you keep these days… and young."

A new habit made me check the porch floor for a familiar red line. I didn't see it at first. The threshold was clean, except for two piles of brick dust that looked as if they'd been swept to the sides… but why? To allow some unearthly creature to gain access?

"Well, are you coming in?"

With a new sense of foreboding, I followed Melba into the house.

As if flipping a switch inside herself; Celeste's nature changed from her initial shock to flirtiness. A lean, brown leg peeked out from a slit in her bright, multicolored evening gown.

Melba spoke, commanding her attention over the low hum of a TV. "We're here to see Desiree." She peered past the tall woman's shoulders into the paneled hallway. "Where is she?"

"She's not here," Celeste graced us with a wave of her hand.

"What?" Melba said, exuding as much anxiety as I felt.

I made a move to squeeze past Celeste, but she took a step of her own, casually blocking my way.

"Where is she?" I demanded, none too politely.

"Not so fast… what did you say your name was?"

Melba and I shared an uneasy glance. "This is So—"

"Shane Black," I said before Melba could get the tainted word out.

"Is that so?" Celeste answered dubiously.

"Yes. He's a friend of Desiree's, just come to town, and I think she would really like to see him."

"And you came all the way here from Savannah. . . this time of night… in a rainstorm." She traced her bright red lips with a matching fingernail. "Interesting."

"Actually, I just picked him up from the airport and brought him here before heading back to Savannah. Now can you please get Desiree for us? It's getting late." Melba flashed a forced smile.

"As I said, she isn't here."

"What do you mean? She told me she was coming to stay with you."

"Yes, well, she was here earlier, and then she got a phone call and left. In a hurry, too. And no; she didn't tell me where she was going, just ran out muttering the name, Solomon."

As she said my name, she flicked her dark gaze at me.

"Now if you don’t mind, it's getting late and I was just about to run a hot bath." She stretched past us and opened the door. "Melba, darling, please do come again at a more appropriate time."

Melba was on the porch deck first. As I took a step to follow her, a cold hand pressed to my forearm, sending an icy chill over my clammy body. I turned and looked into Celeste's knowing gaze. A cinder sparked in their dark depths.

"I know who you are." White teeth flashed between her red lips.

"Where is she?" All manners flew by the wayside as I trapped her wrist in my grip. "Tell me or I'll snap it in two."

She winced when I tightened my hold.

"Shane!" Melba called out from the porch.

We ignored her.

Celeste's fearless gaze held me in its grip. "You wouldn't hurt a woman now, would you?" Her goading words dripped sarcasm. “Oh but that's right, you've hurt many women, haven't you—Solomon?"

Crushed by the reference to the monster I once was, I loosened my grip. Celeste sprang away.

"What's going on?" Melba asked in a shaky voice, coming to my side.

The malevolent look Celeste cast me then, squeezed the breath out of my lungs. , Ignoring Melba, she spoke in low, even tones that chilled the back of my still-damp neck. "If you touch me again, I'll place a curse upon you the likes those priestesses have never seen."

Ignoring her threats, I pulled myself together, remembering why I was there, and took a step closer. "Is Desiree here?" My demanding tone drowned out the TV and the rain, and brought forth a new awareness to the eyes that looked more evil to me with each passing moment.

"On second thought, don't leave. I've got a task for you, Solomon. That’s if you're brave enough to accomplish it."

"I will not waste my time doing anything for you."

She tilted her head to one side. "And if I could help you find your girl? Would you do it then?"

Desiree's eyes appeared between us, the greens brightening the gloom behind them. Celeste lifted away from the wall, invading my vision. I gritted my teeth, and tightened my jaw, deciding to hear her out.

"Are you ready to listen, young, but not-so-young man? If so, follow me. Melba, you come, too."

With silence between us, we followed the strange woman past the sound of the TV into a small room with no windows. After she fumbled with something in a corner, I heard a match strike, and welcomed the light of a tall, human shaped candle, no matter how small the glow. Celeste lit several other candles in various shapes and sizes—all black. One in particular, standing on a silver tray, beckoned to me. I walked toward the upside-down wax cross and sat in one of the four mismatched chairs surrounding the round table.

"Celeste, this is blasphemy. I will not sit at this table, or stand in this room another second."

"Oh, Melba, don't be a hypocrite. You have your beliefs, however vague, and I have mine. Now please sit.”

With a touch of encouragement to Melba's wrist from me, she unclutched the pouch around her neck, and slid her chair close to mine.

I felt her shudder when she sat down, and laid a reassuring hand on hers. Although I wasn't reassured myself in this ritual space.

Celeste pushed her skirt aside, sat, and adjusted folds of gaudy material around the one leg she bared. Then she held out her jewellery-adorned hands, backs down on the velvety table covering.

"Welcome seekers. Place a hand in mine and join the other two together to seal the sacred circle and the door to the outerworld."

A memory burst into my head. The outerworld—something I heard talk of from some of the slave kids when I was a kid myself. A place where unearthly beings dwelled lying in wait of weak souls to possess so they—the damned—could filter into our world. I never paid much attention to the beliefs of the slaves. My father called their practices devilry, and warned me to stay away from them.

At the memory, I went to pull away from Celeste's grip, but she held steady. When I settled, she traced invisible swirls on my palm with a long finger. "Your soul has been tortured, but not beyond repair. I can break the binding that surrounds it, Solomon. But freedom comes at a price."

Celeste's eyes appeared as black and shiny as obsidian as she glared at me through a thin stream of candle smoke. "Are you willing to pay the price?"

I glanced at Melba, my lifeline, hoping for a sign. She didn't move. In fact, her unblinking gaze held fast to the candle's flame.

"She can't help you, Solomon. You must make this decision on your own."

"What's wrong with her?" I pushed gently on her arm. Nothing. "What did you do to her?"