Healing the Bayou (5 page)

“Bullshit! That doesn’t explain why she went from Louisiana’s bitchiest waitress to a sweet Southern belle just like that. What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything. Maybe your high-priced attire made her think she might actually earn something by being nice.”

He didn’t look as if he bought it and it really didn’t matter because all of a sudden an elderly, white-haired woman appeared at the end of our table holding a broom and shouting something at us in French.

“
Parex maintenant! Sorciére!
”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. English, do you speak English?”

“Witch! Witch!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, and everyone stared at me.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I wanted to run, but she had the end of the booth blocked and with everyone looking, I didn’t dare touch her to move her away. She brandished the broom around, poking me with the end of it. I flinched as the bristles dug into my skin. With no idea what to do, I looked to Richie for help, but he was making a dash for the door.

I wished I hadn’t looked up. It only increased the humiliation to see all of the people looking at me as if I had just robbed the screeching woman, and my companion making a break for it couldn’t have looked good either.

I locked gazes with Samuel. I’m not sure why but I sent him a silent plea for help. Somehow I knew he would be able to hear me. To my surprise he jumped to his feet and rushed to me, gently nudging the woman aside. He grabbed my elbow and dragged me out of my seat, pulling me out of the diner at a pace so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet.

Once we were outside he brought me around the building and into an alley. His jawline was hard and his eyes were filled with black, clouded fury.

“How do you know who I’m?” he demanded.

“I don’t!” I insisted.

“Then how did you know I would hear you?”

“What?”

“When you looked at me in there. How did you know I would hear your thoughts?”

“I…I didn’t,” I lied.

He pinned me up into a fence and rested both of his arms against it, boxing me in so I couldn’t escape. He smelled like cedar, and the aroma excited me instantly. It was how I had always imagined he would smell. I bit my lip and searched his eyes for a sign that he was going to hurt me.

They softened as he reclaimed his composure with deep, cleansing breaths. His forehead uncreased, and his jaw relaxed. He opened his mouth to speak but instead a woman’s called from the opening of the alley.

“Yoo-hoo! Samuel! What are you doing down there?”

He flinched and snapped around to greet her, concealing me behind his huge body.

“Ms. Vivian, what are you doing here? I thought you would be at church.”

“I asked you first,” she reminded him. I could tell by her voice she was an older woman.

“Well…” He searched for an explanation but it was too late. She had already made her way close enough that I could not hide behind him. She wore a mischievous I-know-what-you’re-up-to smile.

“A girl, Samuel? My heavens. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“No, Ms. Vivian. Don’t get yourself excited.”

His expression made me frown—his dark glare ruined the chance of us being mistaken as lovers. I must have shown it more than I thought, judging by the sympathetic look I got from Ms. Vivian.

“But she’s such a pretty little thing.”

I smiled sweetly at the compliment.

“Ms. Vivian, I need to speak with you.”

“Don’t you think you should finish up with your friend? I was just going to get something to eat. You can catch up with me when I’m through.”

She pivoted to leave, but Samuel stopped her, urging her to come with him just a few steps away so they could speak privately. A heated, whispery discussion was taking place.

She looked at me with wide eyes, and I felt as if I was intruding even though their conversation was obviously about me. She covered her mouth with her hands, and even from a distance tears could be seen invading her eyes. She lifted her hands to the sky and thanked somebody I had never heard of.

“Nicole, is it really you?” She sprinted toward me with her arms open wide, and I backed myself into the fence I had forgotten was there. An uneasiness enveloped my senses. As a frantic caged animal, I tried to climb up the chain-link sideways, keeping my gaze on the poacher that had found me. She stopped short and gently patted her knees—trying to calm the frightened beast.

“My poor Nicole.” She shook her head. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Don’t come any closer!” My voice was shaky and lacked the intended threatening tone. “You have me confused with someone else.”

“Oh no, my dear. I might not have been able to pick you out from a crowd, but Samuel here knows you as well as the daylight itself. He’s been watching you, darlin’.”

I glanced behind her where Samuel was standing. He had been watching me? That explained why I had dreamed about him, at least. I must have seen him countless times without even noticing, and my subconscious picked on up it. I eyed him from top to bottom and casually asked myself how I could have missed such a magnificent male specimen. Terror crept into my thoughts. Was he the one who was trying to kill me all this time? Did he kill my parents? He wasn’t much older than I was, twenty-eight at best. There was no way he was the one who’d killed my biological parents. But maybe he was part of an elaborate group and he was just the next in line to take over the duty of making sure that I didn’t see another day. The thought was too much.

I turned to continue my ascent up the fence. I only got about halfway up before Samuel took hold of my shirt and plucked me off as easily as I could pluck the petal off a flower. I wanted to scream, but his hand closed down onto my mouth. Tears sprang into my eyes from the impact.

“Don’t be so rough, Samuel!” Vivian snapped. “Nicole, it’s me. Your Auntie Vivian.”

Samuel released my mouth so I could respond. I wouldn’t dare scream again as long as he had me. I didn’t have to say as much—he could read my mind.

“Ms. Vivian.” I breathed heavy. “My name is Eliza, not Nicole. I don’t even know a Nicole, so please. Please let me go. I promise I won’t breathe a word about Samuel being telepathic to anyone.”

She laughed heartily. “Eliza, dear, don’t be silly. Samuel isn’t telepathic. He’s just connected to you, that’s all.”

“Right, how silly of me,” I mocked.

“I don’t care what you call yourself, darlin’.” Vivian swatted at the air. “You’re my Nicole.”

I tried to remember if Richie had given me my aunt’s name, but I didn’t think he ever did. I wished to God he was here right now and hadn’t taken off like a little coward. I hoped he really was a private detective and not secretly an agent. My country’s fate in his hands was a scary thought.

“Oh get over here!” She threw herself at me in a great big hug.

I held my breath and closed my eyes in anticipation of the pain. But when her arms wrapped around me and her cheek pressed against mine, there was none at all. She giggled in my ear, and I could not hold back the sobs.

For the first time ever, I could enjoy the touch of another human being, and it filled me with so much joy I couldn’t contain it. I brought my arms around her shoulders and squeezed, thinking about all the times I had wished so badly I could enjoy this simple pleasure as easily as everyone else. Even my own parents could not hold me.

After a long embrace, I finally let her go and looked at her through tearful eyes, desperately imploring her for answers.

“Why didn’t that hurt?” I asked.

“Your powers don’t work on your kin, dear. You can’t heal me any more than I can heal you.”

I looked at the woman in front of me. Was it possible she really was my aunt? My skin was a dark olive color that resembled a full-blooded Italian or Greek, but hers was much darker. I was pretty sure she was African American, though her skin was a little light. Still, I looked more like her than any member of my adoptive family.

“Well, I suppose since my mother isn’t still alive I can thank you for my impossible-to-manage hair,” I teased to break the ice.

It worked. She and Samuel both burst out in laughter before she draped her arm around my shoulder and guided me out of the alley.

“Come on, dear, we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“If you don’t mind, Ms. Vivian, I need to stop by my hotel first. I suspect someone is waiting for me there, and I really need to give him a piece of my mind.”

Chapter Five

Ms. Vivian’s home was an old and worn-out but still a very charming cottage on Ann Street. The inside was covered with paintings and artifacts that all appeared to be very aged, and she explained to me that most of them were family heirlooms, while the others were simply knickknacks she had collected over the years. All of them were centered on the Voodoo culture.

An ancient book set on a tall stand next to the fireplace and when I had walked by it, I tried to casually glance at its contents, but it was written in another language. My curiosity ate at me. I felt inexplicably drawn to it and I couldn’t wait to ask Ms. Vivian about it.

I sat in the living room on a prickly blue couch waiting for Ms. Vivian to bring some coffee. Rather than a television there was a wall almost completely bare, the only exception being a huge ceremonial mask that gave me the chills. The elongated head stretched from the center of the wall to only inches from the top. The eyes appeared to be only holes in the silver face, but the lighting gave the illusion of them glowing red.

It took some effort to pull my attention from it and when I finally did, I noticed the two skulls that sat on the coffee table at my knees. They sat in their own wicker bowls in a nest of what I could only guess to be finger bones. They looked so realistic. I reached out to run my fingers along the smooth surface.

“I see you’ve reunited already,” Vivian said cheerfully.

“Are they real?” I looked at her with wide eyes.

“Well of course they’re real. That’s your mama and your daddy, sweet pea!”

Bile rose in my throat, and I choked back the excess saliva that built up in my mouth, snatching my hand away from the human remains I had just been fondling.

“Are you serious?”

“Don’t be afraid of them, Eliza. They aren’t going to bite you.” She laughed.

“I was told my parents died in a fire in Florida. How did you get their bones?”

“There wasn’t much left of them, of course, but I sent some people to collect what they could.”

I stared at the boney faces looking back at me, and suddenly I was very alone. How different would my life have been if they hadn’t been killed? I longed to know more about the people who gave life to me.

“What were their names?”

“Your mother was Marie. She had the same fire in her eyes that is in yours. Nobody messed with my Marie. Your daddy was Lucas. He was from France and was very docile and lighthearted—quite the people pleaser. They made a good pair.”

“Do you have a picture of them?”

She pointed to a picture on the end table next to me, and I picked up the heavy frame. The photograph had been taken at a cemetery, which was strange to me, but the people in it were perfectly familiar.

My mother was holding me, and I could see myself in her only slightly darker face. Her hair fell into messy, dark curls to her shoulders the same way mine did, and her eyes did show her intense personality. She wore a colorful, almost gypsy-like dress and large hoop earrings. Next to her stood my father: a white man with dark hair combed neatly wearing a business suit. He was full-bodied while she was slim and dainty. They did make quite the pair.

“What did you say my name was?” It was as if I was talking about a past life.

Ms. Vivian gently touched my cheek and smiled. “You, my young priestess, were called Nicole Paris once upon a time. Your Mama and Daddy weren’t married, so you had our last name.”

I had to think about that for a moment. Nicole Paris. It did fit me better than Eliza Morgan, I had to admit.

“Were they…gifted also?”

“Lucas had abilities, but they were much different than the way you and I are gifted. Your mother was a healer too.”

When we met in the alley she had called it healing. I was confused. I had never considered it healing. I always thought I was hypnotizing someone, making them believe they were happy.

“Is that what we do?”

“Of course dear. What did you think was happening when the transmission occurred?”

I looked at the ground, embarrassed, and she squeezed my hand to encourage me to continue my questions.

“I wasn’t sure really,” I started. “I mean, I noticed people always became so happy after I touched them, but I didn’t really understand what was happening. My mother, well my adopted mother, said something in me was tapping into their hearts and touching them. Does that mean if someone is sick, I can take away their illness?”

The thought excited me. It didn’t matter how much pain it caused me—if I had the power to help someone beat a terminal ailment, then I certainly could not refuse.

“No, it doesn’t quite work that way, Eliza.”

I frowned, but she still held on to her maternal smile.

“I love that you would be so eager to help others in such a selfless way.” She looked at me proudly before she continued, and I beamed, thrilled that she approved of me. “Your mother was right in a way. When you touch them, what you’re doing is essentially cleansing their soul. Your spirit reaches deep into their hearts and rips out all the pain and darkness that has burrowed itself inside. You’re purifying them, Eliza. Renewing them to a state of innocence they haven’t been in since they were tiny cells inside their mothers’ wombs. The world today is infested with negative energy and that wickedness contaminates a mortal’s heart, shredding it to pieces. You have the power to make them whole again by exterminating the ugly.”

I wished in that moment I could go back in time to just before Ms. Vivian had placed this burden on me. How could I not use the gift to benefit others? I had been so excited when I thought I could save someone’s life, so how was this any different?