Voodoo (2 page)

“Come on now.” The boy waved us along and we followed him.

We had entered the house in a cramped living room. A couch and a chair placed on opposite walls with a table in between took up most of the room. We wound past the table, careful not to knock over the candles that sat on it. The boy led us down a dark hallway barely wide enough for Stephen. We passed two doors before he opened the door at the end of the hallway.

“Madam, you got visitors,” the boy said. He stood holding the door handle and shifting from foot to foot.

“Not expectin' any visitors,” Madam Delia said. She was a frail, ancient looking black woman. She was so wrinkled I expected she would have enough skin for a second person if she smoothed it out. Her skin looked ink dark where her white hair lay loose against it. She looked toward the door with bright, knowing eyes. The room she sat in was lit by sporadically placed white candles that did little to cut the darkness or the haze of incense smoke. “What trouble are you leading me, Alphonse?”

“He has gold,” Alphonse answered. He continued fidgeting from foot to foot, not meeting her eyes.

“Trouble well paid then.” Madam Delia nodded. “Sit.” Alphonse sat in a chair by the door. When we continued to stand, she added, “All of you.” A small smile flitted across her face.

Stephen and I sat in a pair of wooden chairs across from her. Even under my small frame the chair moaned like it might snap beneath me. Madam Delia pulled a cord out from the front of her dress, a small sack hung at the end. She opened it with arthritic fingers and tipped its contents into her hand. She held her hand out to us, a pile of small bones visible.

“Gold.” Madam Delia held out her free hand expectantly. Stephen tipped the gold into it. Six large gold coins landed on her hand. One fell to the table. Stephen picked that one up and added it to the others. Madam Delia weighed the coins in her hand.

“Seven gold coins,” Stephen said.

“I can see as much.” Madam Delia closed her fingers around the coins. “Just seems a bit light for the two of you. Seems like enough to answer one of your questions maybe.”

“It's your money,” I told Stephen. “Ask her about Hannah.”

“But you saw your sister; she can't be far away yet. Hannah could be miles from here,” Stephen argued.

“Which means she will be easier to find without help.” A selfish part of me wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them. I pushed the feeling away. As much as I wanted to find Claire, it didn’t seem right to let Stephen give up the chance to find his sister.

“Shh,” Madam Delia said. She tucked the coins into a pocket on her dress and waved a hand at us. “You seek guidance for noble means, and I see the two of you are connected in ways you don't yet realize. We'll let the bones decide who they lead you to.” She dropped the bones on the table. They hit with a small jumbled clatter.

As I watched her fingers pick over the bones I felt sweat on the back of my neck. The room seemed to be growing warmer by the minute. Beside me Stephen looked tense enough to snap. When I put my hand on his arm he jumped, then smiled nervously.

“What you seek will be found at Lost Angels,” Madam Delia said, her fingers still running over the bones. “One will sing, the other . . . the other. Clea.” Her eyes went wide. “You seek Clea, the Tiger Demon.”

“No, we are looking for our sisters,” I said, glancing at Stephen. “Claire and Hannah.”

“Hannah is barely more than a child, though she wins the crowds as a woman would,” Madam Delia said. “Claire, she isn't what you are looking for. Your sister is different; she's become the Tiger Demon, Clea.”

“No,” Stephen muttered. I glanced at him. He seemed to understand what she was saying.

“Can one of you explain what is going on in plain English?” I raised an eyebrow when neither of them answered immediately.

“Clea,” Madam Delia whispered.

Her fingers stopped moving against the bones and her head slumped forward to her chest. The room went silent.

2.

“Madam Delia?” Alphonse whispered into the darkness.

She sat up straight as a board, her eyes wide and black as any animals. Her mouth opened, and a bone chilling scream tore through her, arching her back as it filled the room. I covered my ears, hunching down against Stephen. When Madam Delia's scream ended, the silence in the room seemed heavier than before. She hunched forward over herself, breathing in heavy gasps that shook her whole body.

“Clea knows you are here,” Madam Delia said. Her voice sounded raw, as if the scream had shaved away half her vocal cords. “Go.”

“Go?” Stephen asked. “Go where?”

“They are coming,” Madam Delia growled, her voice rising with each word until she was shouting. “Get out of my home!” Stephen jerked to his feet, tugging me up by my shoulder.

“What?” I asked, stumbling over my own feet on the way to the door. “Who is coming? Where are we supposed to go?”

“Tigers,” Stephen answered, as if that explained everything.

“Go.” Alphonse shoved me and I tripped forward, almost falling to the ground. Stephen caught my arm and steadied me.

“Show them the back door,” Madam Delia said in a low voice. “Quickly.”

Alphonse glared at us, and then slipped past. Stephen followed him, ducking under a black curtain. I took one last look at the old woman. She was picking through the bones, muttering to herself, fingers moving quickly. I started to turn, but her voice stopped me.

“This isn’t what it seems. You’re not meant to be here, but until you find what you seek you’ll never leave.” Her eyes met mine and she growled. “Get gone with you.” I dipped under the curtain.

We were in another small hallway, and this time I could feel the walls grazing both of my shoulders as I hurried after Stephen. There was no light in the hall and it took everything I had in me to hurry into the black. The disorienting darkness made the seconds drag on, but soon my hand found Stephen's back.

“She's here,” Stephen whispered to the boy. A dim crack of light appeared, and I could see Alphonse.

“Go. Get away from here. Don’t you lead those beasts here,” Alphonse said as he waved us out.

We slipped out past him. The door he held open wasn't a door at all. Instead, it looked like just another section of wall inside the house. When he slammed it shut behind us I couldn't see any seam that would hint a door had been opened.

“Come on,” Stephen said. “We have to get out of here. If the Tigers catch us, we won't last through the night.”

“What the hell are Tigers?” I asked as we ran down the alley. We were headed away from the path we had taken to reach the house.

“Clea's guard. Bad guys you don't want to mess with.”

We reached the next street. I was ready to dash across to the next alley, but Stephen pushed me back against the wall. Pressed to the wall, deep in shadow, we watched as three men ran past. They were dressed in black suits and ties, each with a hat similar to Stephen's. For the most part they didn't look like anything special, until I saw their faces. Each had four long scars running from their foreheads down to their chins.

“The other three must be going in from the front,” Stephen said, after they had passed. He edged carefully to the street and looked out before motioning for me and taking my hand.

We ran across the street and up another alley. I had no trouble keeping up with Stephen now. One look at those men had scared me enough that I was willing to follow him wherever without any explanation.

We dashed down alley after alley until Stephen decided we had put enough distance between us and the Tigers. We started a zigzag path back up toward the city’s busier streets.

We slowed to a walk when we were back on the main thoroughfare, but we still moved quickly. Old fashioned street lights lit the street every dozen feet, shoving away the darkness of the rest of the city.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a boat. It will be safe.” Stephen led the way to a harbor. I was wary of the dark docks at first, but had given in to trusting Stephen's judgment. The dock was sturdy beneath my feet, and the gentle lapping of water served to calm my jangled nerves. I could still hear indistinct music from the city behind us, but out on the docks we seemed to be in a whole new world.

We climbed aboard a midsized boat, all white and wood. There was a small cabin and once inside Stephen lit an oil lamp. The cabin held a small bed on one side and a set of cabinets on the other. Stephen set the lamp on the counter above the cabinets and sat on the bed. After a moment's hesitation, I sat beside him, but not too close.

“Okay,” I said with a heavy sigh. I met his eyes. “Start explaining.”

Stephen let out a long breath, and took off his hat. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead, pushing his hand back over his short hair. He set his hat on the counter before unbuttoning his suit jacket and loosening his tie.

“What do you want to know?” His voice was as weary as I felt.

“Let's start with my sister, and Clea.” My stomach flip-flopped. I was scared to hear the explanation.

“What does your sister look like?” Stephen asked, removing his tie.

“She’s a little bit taller than me, red hair, hazel eyes like mine.” Unconsciously, I put my hand to my left temple. “She has a little scar above her eyebrow from when we were kids.” I had hit her in the head with a stick when I was eight and she was ten, but that was ten years ago now.

Stephen sighed, wiping a hand over his face. “I think Madam Delia is right. You sister is Clea, or something like that at least. You just described Clea spot on, though the scar isn't so little.”

“I don't understand.” I stood, wanting to pace but realizing the boat was too small. I sat down again. “How can Claire be Clea? She’s only been here as long as I have.”

“Clea has been here for years,” Stephen said. “She is one of the power players in Crescent. They call her the Tiger Demon because she uses a severed tiger paw to mark each of the men who works for her.” I thought of the scars on the faces of the men, and shuddered. “She is not someone you want to mess with from what I hear. She's been controlling the north side for as long as I can remember.”

“How long have you been here?”

“I don't really know for sure.” Stephen frowned. Again his eyes took on that look of being far away. “It feels like years, but it also doesn't. I know that doesn't make any sense. All I know is I need to find Hannah.”

“Okay, how about the lost angels? What does that mean? Is it a place, a group, or what?”

“The Lost Angels,” Stephen said, emphasizing it as a name. “It's a club on the west side. They have entertainment, gambling, and booze. It's a pretty shady place.”

“So Hannah and Claire-”

“Clea,” Stephen interrupted.

“Fine, Hannah, and Clea, they could both be there?” I asked

“If Madam Delia is right.” He wiped a hand over his face. “I sort of hope she isn't. Getting Hannah out of there won't be easy. The man who owns it is a monster.”

“We won't know until we check the place out.” I was ready to get moving. I needed to see this Clea for myself.

“We should lay low for a little bit,” Stephen said. “Wait for the Tigers to move on. Are you hungry?”

“No,” I said. My stomach growled and Stephen smiled. “Alright, maybe I am.”

Stephen stood, and went to the cabinets. He pulled open a drawer and took out a loaf of bread. He tore it in half before he opened a cabinet to pull out a block of hard cheese. He handed me half the loaf of bread. We took turns breaking off pieces of the tangy cheese. We would eat, and I would try to be patient.

*

The Lost Angels looked like a museum from the outside. Wide stairs led up to an entrance flanked by tall pillars holding up a peaked roof. ‘The Lost Angels’ was carved into the stone above the entrance, and lit by spotlights. Men and women strolled in and out of the building, music flowing through the door each time it opened. We watched for a few minutes from across the street. The night had become cold, and I drew the jacket Stephen had given me more tightly around myself. The wind blew my hair across my face, forcing me to tuck it back behind my ear.

“Can we get in?” I asked. The women leaving the building were dressed in flashier dresses than what I wore, and almost all of them wore fancy clips or headbands in their hair.

“It's an open club,” Stephen said. “He's willing to take anyone's money.” Both of us had gold, silver, and copper coins in our pockets now. Stephen had pulled a small locked box of money out from under the bed on the boat. He had taken most of it, but made it clear it was for both of us.

“Let's go then,” I said after taking a deep breath.

At the next break in traffic we crossed the road. Climbing up the stairs, I found the building breathtaking. I felt like we were a rich couple going to an opera, or some benefit gala. Stephen took my hand again and I tried not to blush. We stepped into a long, narrow lobby, my heels echoing across the wood floor. We joined a line of people waiting to pay the entrance fee.

That done, Stephen took my arm, looping it through his own so my hand rested on his wrist. We stood with a few others, waiting to be let in. Scratchy recorded music filled the lobby. When ten of us had paid the fee, a man in a red jacket with gold braiding across the shoulders led us to a set of double doors. We all walked through and waited for him to shut them behind us. He went to the next set of double doors, unlocking them with a large brass key.