Healing the Bayou (15 page)

“Eliza,” Aunt Vivian whispered in to the doll’s fabric in a creepy, menacing voice before she hovered a needle over its heart.

“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed in terror, gripping my own chest, wincing in pain when she pierced its exterior with the sharp point.

Samuel flew across the room and grabbed hold of her neck, throwing her against the wall. His eyes had transformed again into blackness. I wouldn’t let myself feel frightened for her.

“Take it easy!” she shrieked. “I’m an old woman, for Spirit’s sake. I’m only assigning her.”

Loosening his grip only slightly, he snatched the doll from her hands and held it high out of her reach.

The pain had only lasted an instant, and really it wasn’t that bad. But it scared the hell out of me just the same. I stomped in her direction, ready to tear her apart myself, but Samuel made himself a barrier between us.

“What the hell does that mean, assigning me?”

“She is connecting your spirit to this doll,” Samuel explained.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“So I can protect you!” She tried to sound innocent.

“Bullshit!” Samuel’s shouted so loud that even I jumped.

“Honestly!” Vivian insisted. “This way if she is hurt and I’m not there in person to heal her, I can do it through her representative spirit.”

“She’s wearing the amulet! You can’t touch her.”

“But she did!” My head was spinning. “I felt it, even with the amulet.”

“There are ways around the protection spell, Samuel. I had to be sure she was safe.”

The outline of Samuel’s jaw was clenched tight. I was fighting with myself to figure out if we could trust her or not, but he had made up his mind.

“I will hold on to it.” He wasn’t giving her an option. This was a nonnegotiable demand, and his tone made it clear there was no room for discussion on the matter, but that didn’t stop Aunt Vivian from trying.

“You can’t heal her. It’s no good to you.”

“It’s safer in my hands than in yours.” He was boiling. “Let me make this clear Vivian: I don’t trust you. The only reason I have taken up with you all these years was because of my duty to Eliza. I won’t hand you any opportunity to hurt her. As long as this doll is active, you can’t make another one. And you will not get this one.”

Chapter Thirteen

I thought the first couple of days were difficult, but they were nothing compared to today. It had been four days since I’d had anything to eat, and my stomach burned so much I was certain it was eating itself. I hurt so badly I couldn’t get myself out of bed. I was seeing double, my head was pounding, and my muscles were weak. With my curtains drawn, I hoped to keep out any light that might worsen the pain.

I tried to heal myself, and it would work to chase the pain away for a few minutes but then it would return. I didn’t have the energy to keep doing it, so I gave up.

The high-pitched sound of my cell phone’s ring tone sliced through my ear drum like a blade driving into my skull. I groaned and rolled over to the nightstand, clumsily picking it up and flipping it open. Through the blinding glare of the screen I read the caller ID: Aunt Patrice.

Crap. I could only imagine how worried she must have been since I hadn’t called her at all since I had arrived. My sympathy for how she would be feeling overruled my own need for peace and quiet. I swallowed hard against the dryness in my mouth to lubricate my vocal cords.

“Hi, Aunt Patty.” I was trying not to sound as weak as I actually was.

“Eliza?” She was shouting into the receiver. “Oh thank God! Eliza, where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all week!”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Patty. I don’t get very good reception here. I think it’s the swamp gas interfering with the signal,” I joked.

“It’s not funny! Uncle Charlie and I were worried sick about you. You were supposed to be home by now. What are you still doing there?”

The crashing guilt knotted my stomach. I should have called her and told her I was all right, and I definitely should have let her know I was going to be staying longer. It wasn’t in my character for me to be so irresponsible, and the plain truth was that I just forgot. It wasn’t going to be a good enough excuse for her, though.

“I know, I should have called. I’m a total jerk.”

“Yes, you are.” Her voice softened. “So, have you met any of your relatives yet?”

“Just an aunt Vivian. I guess she is all that’s left of the Parises.”

“That’s a shame. But still it’s exciting, right?”

I had to laugh. “Oh, there’s plenty of excitement here, that’s for sure.”

“Well, does she know anything about your…condition?”

“She has it too. And my mother did. I guess it’s sort of a family curse.”

My stomach churned and saliva rushed into my mouth as if I was going to be sick. I gagged into the phone but managed to suppress the urge to vomit all over.

“What was that? Are you sick?”

“Just a stomach flu,” I lied. I really didn’t want to get into the whole thing right now.

“You poor dear. Out there all alone with no one to take care of you.”

That wasn’t true, and I wanted to tell her so. I had Samuel, who I knew would take care of me if I would let my pride down enough to ask him to. But he was another topic I wanted to avoid with her right now. One day, when we could talk face-to-face I would explain it all. But I just couldn’t right now.

“I’ll be all right,” I assured her.

“Eliza, Uncle Charlie and I were thinking. You’re more than welcome to move up here with us now that your parents…”

“I know, Aunt Patty. Thank you, but I actually think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll come and visit soon, though.”

“Yoo-hoo!” Aunt Vivian knocked on the door.

“Ugh. I’ve got to go. But I promise I’ll call you back soon, OK?” Cutting the conversation short was the last thing I wanted to do. I hung up the phone, the guilt piling on.
“Are you ready for today’s lesson?” Aunt Vivian poked her head in my room, sounding just as chipper as could be. I rolled my eyes at the energy she had. If I didn’t know any better, I would think she was actually enjoying seeing me so worn. That it was giving her pleasure.

She spent all week teaching me about the healing properties of various herbs and stones. We talked about the importance of live sacrifices during extreme rituals, and she told me I was going to be expected to make one at my ceremony.

I wasn’t looking forward to killing anything, even though I knew I could do it. My aunt Patrice and Uncle Charlie had animals on their farm they used for food, and I enjoyed many summers there. I was the one to catch the chicken and decapitate it on more than one occasion, and I even helped slaughter the goats. This would be the same thing, except we wouldn’t be eating it. That was the part that bothered me.

And Vivian mentioned that, just as in my dream, Samuel was the one to dress me for the ceremony. She suggested changing that tradition. Apparently it was not as important as the other parts of the ritual, at least according to her. But I refused. Not because of my attraction to him, but because if I was going to go through all this torture then I was going to do everything else the way it should be done too.

I was still in the gray tank top and basketball shorts I’d slept in, but I wasn’t in the mood to care how I looked to her. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and made myself sit up, hunched over.
Only three more days to g
o.

I waved her in and rubbed my eyes, trying to regain normal vision.

Following close behind Aunt Vivian was a tall, bone-thin, middle-aged man with sandy gray hair that aged him.

“Eliza, this is Jim Stuart. He is a member of our congregation.”

I didn’t want to be rude, so stood up and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

His glasses set on the bridge of his nose, and his big silver eyes were wide with excitement. “What an honor it is to meet you, Ms. Paris. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Morgan,” I corrected him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“My name is Eliza Morgan. So, it’s Ms. Morgan.”

“Oh, yes of course. Vivian did mention that you had taken on another name. Forgive me.”

“It’s fine. What can I do for you, Mr. Stuart?” I imagine I came off as short, but I was not feeling up to visitors today.

“Jim has volunteered to help you master your abilities,” Aunt Vivian said through her teeth, as if to remind me I should remember those manners.

I crossed my arms. “Are you a healer?”

“Well, no. But I’m a willing servant for you to practice on.” He held up his hands. “Consider me your personal guinea pig for the day! Or longer. I can help as long as you’d like.”

I wanted to appreciate his enthusiasm, but he was way too excited to be here. Was he serious? What man in his right mind would jump at the chance to be a test dummy for a junior priestess? In the back of my mind paranoia seeped back in. Was this was some kind of setup by Aunt Vivian? The eager look on his face told me that his overzealous attitude was very much real.

“What exactly are we going to be practicing?”

“You have got to learn to control your power,” Aunt Vivian said. “Have you ever noticed I can touch Samuel, or anybody else for that matter, anytime I want without anything happening?”

I had noticed, and I had also been very jealous of it.

“Of course I have.”

“Well, that’s what you’re going to learn today. Get dressed and come downstairs, and we’ll get to work.”

They left me to myself and I slumped back onto the bed, pulling my suitcase out from underneath it. I grabbed a sloppy T-shirt and some jeans to change into, but having bent over was about to catch up to me.

A bitter taste rose in my throat, and I made a dash for the bathroom. Clinging to the cooling porcelain for dear life, I heaved bile and water into the toilet bowl.

“Eliza!” Samuel hurried in. “Are you all right?”

“Get out of here!” I ordered between hurls, humiliated that he was seeing me in this disgusting condition.

Of course he didn’t listen. Instead he knelt beside me and pulled my hair up to save it from being soiled. He rested his lips on the back of my head but I nudged him off with my shoulder. I couldn’t handle the strain that would come with his contact.

“It’s almost over.” His voice was soothing and paternal.

“I can’t do it.” Resting my chin on my arm, I pleaded with the room to stop whirling. “Samuel, I need something to eat.”

He pressed a damp cloth on the back of my neck and I rested my eyes, finally feeling some relief from the contractions in my stomach.

“It’s going to be worth it,” he vowed.

“Nothing could be worth this. How did you know I was in here, anyway?”

“I Heard you.”

“You were downstairs. How could you have Heard me?”

“I Heard you in here.” He rapped on the side of his head.

Leaning back, I rested my weight on the side of the bathtub and hugged my knees. “You can hear me from anywhere? Like, even a couple hundred miles away?”

“Sort of. I can’t hear words when you’re much farther away than I could if you were speaking them. When you aren’t close, it’s like a tracking signal that gets stronger the closer we get.”

“So I can never just be alone?”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He frowned.

“Of course not!” I hadn’t meant for it to sound so cold. “It’s actually kind of comforting to know you’re always there to protect me. Thank you, by the way. I know you’ve had your work cut out for you as of late.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

I attempted to force a smile but was interrupted by the sight of Aunt Vivian peering through the crack of the door.

I groaned. “What, Aunt Vivian?”

I had caught her trying to spy, and instead of feigning innocence she resorted to pretending to be angry.

“You’re being very rude, Eliza!” She huffed. “Mr. Stuart is waiting for you. I would appreciate it if you stop socializing and show him a little bit of courtesy.”

I patted the beads of sweat from my forehead with the wet rag and rolled my eyes. Smarting back at her was going to take more vitality than I had left in me, so I settled on being annoyed.

Samuel, on the hand, had no trouble jumping straight to being furious. In the blink of an eye he was on his feet, shoulders squared, and ready to fight my battle for me—my own personal bodyguard.

“Look at her,” he roared. “She can hardly stand up. Stop trying to parade her around as if it’s show-and-tell and have a little concern for your only niece, you old hag!”

Her hand flew to her chest and she tried to look frail. “Of course I’m concerned for her. But all her suffering is going to be for nothing if she doesn’t learn these skills. You understand, don’t you Eliza?”

“Yeah,” I said shortly. “I understand, all right.”

I understood. I understood she had something sinister planned for me in the end of all of this, and I understood that Samuel would protect me from it at all costs.

But she did have a point: I wasn’t going to be able to free these people from whatever tyranny she imposed on them if I didn’t learn from her.

I lifted myself up using the toilet lid and the bathtub for leverage, and Samuel pulled at my waist offering his assistance. He had put on his gloves at some point. He always had them handy.

“I’ll help you get dressed,” he said.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Vivian protested. “I will help her.”

His eyes flashed black and she retracted her stretched out hand when he stepped between us. The moments she feared him the most were the moments I loved him the most. I truly had nothing to fear as long as I had him.

“I said I will help her,” he said through his teeth.

We brushed past her and he helped me hobble back to my bedroom. There was nothing sensual in the air when he dressed me, and I blamed the pitiful state I was in. Afterward he accompanied me to my obligation and Aunt Vivian’s deep scowl said she wasn’t pleased with him being there. His face made it just as clear that her objection was irrelevant. He wasn’t going to leave me alone with her again. Instead, he planted himself at the banister to watch from a close distance.