Voodoo Kiss (11 page)

Patricia blinked, taken aback. "What I've seen on TV, like piercing needles into a doll and falling into a trance with your eyes rolling back while talking with a weird voice in an ancient language."

Whoa, was that what would happen to me? I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat. I thought being a witch meant brewing the odd love potion and speaking out a curse or two.

"That's not voodoo. It's called being possessed,"
Thrain
said, still grinning.

"Oh." She nodded. "Right. Okay, then it's just the needles and the doll. And I remember something about chicken and blood, but that's gross."

Cass smirked. "And there I thought you might actually know something
useful
, like how to help a voodoo priestess get in touch with her powers."

"Is she one?" Patricia jumped up from her seat and walked around the table, stopping behind me. I felt her smooth hands on my shoulders, then on my cheeks and on my shoulders again. "I can feel her powers. She has been marked."

I held my breath, waiting for her to reveal more, but she remained quiet.

"By what? And shouldn't you have seen that the moment she entered your property?" Cass asked, impatiently.

Patricia's hands remained glued to my shoulders as she whispered, "By something very powerful." I felt
Thrain's
sudden tension. It passed on to me as though we were the same being. Words unspoken hovered at the back of my mind. I knew they were his, I could almost grasp their meaning and yet they kept slipping my perception.

"Could you be more specific?" Cass asked, irritated.

Patricia shook her head. "That's about as far as my powers go. Ask me in a few days when I turn eighteen and I might be able to help more."

Cass scoffed. "That's awesome news, particularly since we don't have any time to spare. Dallas is dead in less than a week unless we can figure out how to unleash her powers."

"Give me some credit," Patricia snapped, her eyes sparkling. "At least I can tell you
something
. What was it again you can do?" Someone definitely had a short temper. She looked so pissed off, I almost expected her to start smashing dishes. I peered at
Thrain
, my gaze begging him to intervene so disaster wouldn't unfold, but he just leaned back, grinning. Something in his eyes triggered a memory in me—darkness and the presence of something unnatural and scary, a cold sensation, then searing pain.

"I know what marked me," I heard myself say softly. All eyes turned on me.
For the first time, I saw surprise written on Cass's face. I moistened my lips, uncomfortable with all the attention.

"You do?"
Thrain
prompted. His thigh brushed mine under the table, making any sort of concentration on the topic at hand impossible. Tiny jolts of electricity ran through me, wandering up and down my body. I had the strong need to touch him. Instead of giving in, I pulled away and crossed my legs, putting a few inches of distance between us. He frowned as though he knew I was uncomfortable with the proximity between us. Then again, I was probably reading too much into his expression.

"My—" I hesitated, considering my words because the word 'boyfriend' didn't quite feel right "—Gael took me to see a fortuneteller. I think something happened, but I'm not sure."

And then I went about recalling my experience with Madame
Estevaz
. When I finished, Cass asked me to start again without leaving out any details. The huge frown on her forehead told me she was just as confused.

"So, when you woke up you couldn't remember a thing?"
Thrain
asked for the umpteenth time. I nodded. He smirked. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary when you woke up? Anything you didn't understand, anything that had you confused?" Patricia asked.

I bit my lip as I tried to remember, but my mind remained blank. "Don't think so."

"Take your time," she said, walking around the table and sitting back in her chair. "Even if it might've seemed irrelevant at that time, it could mean something."

I rubbed the sole of my left shoe over the stone tiles as I went through what happened after meeting Madame
Estevaz
. "Gael was there. I thought I saw something in his eyes, like a black shadow. A moment later, it was gone, but I think I saw it before." I moistened my lips and brushed my hand over my jeans, almost expecting the others to laugh and tell me I was being silly.
Thrain
wrapped his hand around mine and gave it a light squeeze as though to encourage me.

"Did you say 'black shadow'?" Cass shot
Thrain
a quizzical look.

I nodded. "Yes. Why?"

"Does he have eerie black eyes and dark hair?"
Thrain
asked. I didn't think he was serious until he cocked a brow.

"Oh, that was a real question." I shook my head. "No. Just brown eyes and light brown hair."

Cass's face dropped. "There goes my lead."

"We have another,"
Thrain
said. "It's clear Madame
Estevaz
marked her. Let's see what she was really up to."

I was slowly getting the hang out of this portal traveling. In fact, I felt like a natural, just walking through with not even a need to blink any more. After saying goodbye to Patricia and letting her hug me tight with what I swear were tears in her eyes, I returned to Rio de Janeiro. I wasn't sure where Madame
Estevaz
was, but apparently people knew her well. After half an hour waiting on a park bench,
Thrain
returned to let Cass and me know he had found her. So Cass opened yet another portal. An instant later, I found myself standing in front of the old house with the clean front yard and the peeling plaster.
Thrain
signaled us to stay behind him as he knocked. When no one answered, he shot us a glance over his shoulder and tried the door. It opened with a long creak.

"Anyone home?" Cass called out. I held my breath to listen for any sounds, but nothing stirred. Not even the chicken and pigs, I heard the last time I visited, made any sound.

"Something's wrong,"
Thrain
whispered, pushing me behind him. I pressed my palm against the low of his back, feeling his muscles tensing beneath the thin material of his shirt.

Cass scoffed. "How did you figure that one out, Sherlock Holmes?"

As I followed them in, my gaze wandered to the mess that hadn't been here before. Dried herbs and broken ornament had been strewn all over the place. The papers, which had covered the wall above the heart to hide the chipped paint, had been torn to shreds. The mirror near the door had been smashed into hundreds of pieces. There was a plate with food on the table, as if someone got up quickly and didn't get the chance to finish a meal. The dismantled head of a ragdoll stared at me from the floor, its dark eyes were wide open, filled with accusation. That freaked me out because I knew it was just a doll.

I frowned in horror as I tried to make sense of what could possibly have happened. And then I noticed there was something in the air. A dark presence. Waves of—

"Chaos,"
Thrain
said, taking a deep breath. His eyes glazed over, his mouth stood slightly open. I peered at Cass only to see her expression was similar.

"Pain," she whispered.

My hand still pressed against
Thrain's
back, I could feel his excitement washing over me, making me feel something I had never experienced before. An ecstasy that reminded me of a reunion with a long lost friend or lover, leaving behind a strong need for more. And yet I knew this woman hadn't experienced a happy reunion. She was dead. I could feel it in my bones, as if she had been a kindred spirit and magic connected us.

I pulled my hand back quickly and bolted out the door and around the house, stopping only to throw up into a nearby bush. The nausea together with the relentless heat of the sun made me dizzy, but emptying my stomach felt surprisingly good, as though it would cleanse me from that sick sensation of enjoyment stemming from someone else's suffering.

"Are you okay?"
Thrain
said, rubbing my back.

I held up a hand as I leaned forward, my mind begging him to go away. I had no reason to be surprised. I mean, he had told me he was a demon and demons thrived on other people's pain. Even though I didn't like what I had just experienced, the initial shock was already starting to wear off. I wiped a hand over my mouth and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said softly. His gaze searched mine, his eyes probing to find out what I was thinking of him. I let him squirm and wonder as I took a minute to think about it. The knowledge of what caused him pleasure didn't lessen my attraction to him. He was still someone I hoped to get to know to see where it might take us. Maybe he sensed my thoughts and emotional undercurrents because his lips stretched into a smile and he held out his hand. I grabbed it, albeit reluctantly, but didn't budge from the spot when he tried to pull me away.

"No," I said. "I want to know what happened to her."

He hesitated. "Trust me, you don't. It's not a pretty sight." I caught his glimpse behind me and followed his line of vision, past a fence leading into an overgrown garden. I started in that direction with him behind me, my breath coming in short, ragged heaps. If he tried to stop me, I didn't hear it. My heart began to hammer loud and hard a moment before I stepped through the gate into the garden with herbs and wild flowers and heavy branches hanging from a weeping willow. Right under them was a paved space, a perfect circle with stones building a border about ten inches in height. A ritual place—I knew it because I had seen something like this in my reoccurring dreams and visions ever since I was born.

My hands shook as I kneeled down to touch the puddle of blood that had stained the stones a deep red, my gaze wandering past the pair of worn slippers to the old woman lying on her back in the middle of the circle. Her eyes were wide open, the expression on her aged face showed horror and fear. Her hands were tied and pressed against her chest as though she had tried to protect herself. Right under her chin was a thin cut crusted with dried blood. Bile rose in my throat. For once I was thankful I had skipped a lot of meals lately.

"Shush, it's okay. She didn't suffer."
Thrain's
hands drew slow circles on my back. I knew he was lying. He small incisions all over her body indicated whoever had killed her had ensured a long and painful death.

I got up and wiped my hands on the back of my jeans. "Get me out of here." My voice came low and hoarse, choked with emotion. I could feel something wet and cold on my face.
Thrain
leaned in to wipe a hand over my cheeks, then lifted me in his arms and carried me over to the front yard where Cass waited. From her expression I knew she could at least guess what we had just discovered.

"Seems like someone found her before us," she said.

Thrain
smirked. "Maybe he knew where to find her all along."

"What are you saying?" Cass asked.

He peered at me and raised his brows meaningfully. "Still think Aidan's mansion isn't the most secure place right now?"

Cass hesitated. "What about Hell?"

Hell? Did she really say that? I opened my mouth to protest but
Thrain
beat me to it. "Dallas's attack should've taught you that's one of the most obvious places our enemies would come looking."

I pressed my cheek against his strong chest, inhaling his manly scent. "I'd love to spend some more time in Scotland, if you come too."

Thrain's
hot breath left a tingling sensation on my temple where his lips barely touched my skin. I thought he whispered something that sounded like, "I'd love to." But I wasn't sure because a moment later darkness enveloped me and I lost consciousness yet again.

I woke up in a bed, feeling completely dehydrated. The dry sensation in my mouth made me cough once or twice before I pried my eyes open. A groan escaped my throat as I tried to push up on my elbows. My blurry gaze focused on the people around me. And lots of them. Where did they all come from?

"You're seeing double, mate," Cass said from the window. Next to her, Amber was leaning against the wall. Aidan and Clare weren't around. I scanned the room with its flowery wallpaper and antique furniture. If it wasn't for a jacket draped over the back of a chair and lots of magazines and toiletry items cluttering the surface of the dresser, I could've sworn I was in a hotel room.

"Stop reading my mind." My voice sounded raspy. I tried to clear my throat only to start coughing again.
Thrain
sat down next to me and raised a glass of water to my lips. I gulped it all down and leaned back against my satin pillow, only now realizing someone had covered me with a thin blanket. I looked down. Thankfully, I still wore my clothes.

I felt so plain and weak compared to the others who seemed to take the whole situation so much better than I was. Hopefully, my powers would be making their grand entrance soon because inferior wasn't the kind of adjective I wanted to use to describe me. "What happened?"