Night Magic (29 page)

"O great one, good mother. I come to you with
bowed shoulders and a bruised spirit. My enemies have sorely tried
me; have caused pain and suffering to my beloved ones; have taken
from me my worldly goods and my gold; have spoken meanly of me
causing friends to lose faith in me; O great one, woman goddess of
majestic power, I beg that this I ask for my enemies come to
pass:

That the south wind shall scorch their bodies
and make them wither and shall not be tempered to them. That the
north wind shall freeze their blood, numb their muscles and that it
shall not be tempered to them. That the west wind shall blow away
their life's breath and make their bones to crumble. That the east
wind shall make their minds grow dark and their sight shall fail.
Let agony and despair be their constant companion." The voice took
on a sing-song quality as it grew louder. Folds of the full robe
rippled as the figure began to quiver in agitation.

"I ask that their farthest generations will
not intervene for them before the great throne. I pray that their
children be feeble of mind and paralyzed of limb. That death and
disease forever be with them and they writhe in agony. That the sun
shall not shine upon them with benevolence but instead beat down
with burning rays to shrivel their bodies. That the moon shall not
give them peace but shall mock them causing shriveling their minds.
That their friends shall deceive them and cause them loss of gold
and silver. That their enemies prevail and their cries for mercy go
unheeded. That all about them be pestilence, destruction, and
bloody torturous death. These things I ask of you, Great Mother,
because they have dragged me in the dust, destroyed my peace,
broken my heart, and caused me to cry out in pain. Let it be, O
great one. So let be written, so let it be done."

Reaching out to grasp its head, the speaker
stuffed straw into the nostrils of the goat as it struggled. The
gleam of a large steel blade flashed and the animal dropped to its
knees, then fell prone with its mouth open. Slips of paper were
thrust into the gushing wound at its throat. The broom was dipped
in the blood and the ground swept vigorously the length of the
twitching body. The sweeping went on as long as the blood flowed.
With a sharp stick, an outline of the sheep was drawn. Being
careful not to touch the sheep, pairs of hands holding gardening
spades began to dig so that ground under it dropped the body down
into the growing hole. Nine sheets of paper were laid upon the
carcass then dirt was heaped upon it. A white candle was jabbed
into the grave. The twigs of the dying fire popped and crackled as
the group straggled back to the waiting cars.

"You know what to do.” The robed figure spoke
to two others who nodded their assent.

Chapter 12

Quentin paced up and down in front of the
couch where LaShaun sat serenely sipping mint iced tea. For twenty
minutes she had attempted to arouse him to no avail. He was too
preoccupied, too overwrought.

“That audit will show money has been diverted
from several accounts for payments to non-existent companies for
non-existent services. Not to mention, showing transfers to
non-existent accounts.” Quentin chewed on his fingernails.

“Make up an excuse to delay it.”

“I’ve tried. The old man doesn’t listen to
me. He acts like I’m not even there, discussing business details
with everyone but me. The old bastard!”

“Well, you have to admit some of the things
you do don’t exactly inspire trust and confidence in your business
decisions.” LaShaun shook the glass and watched the ice twirl
inside.

“He’s never given me a fair chance or the
authority to make real decisions. I’ve been sabotaged at every
turn.”

“Oh really, Quentin. You have made a few,
shall we say, boo boos?”

“Shut up!” Quentin pulled her roughly from
the couch shaking her. “You got me into this with your demands,
your blackmail.” His fingers dug deeply into her arms.

“Calm down, lover.” LaShaun spoke
soothingly.

“I’ve been up all for three nights in a row
trying to figure a way out. If the old man finds out I’ve been
using company money to buy drugs, he’ll-- there is no telling what
he’ll do.” Quentin released her and resumed pacing.

“What do you care with the money you’ve made
so far? You have what you wanted.” LaShaun stood in front of him
causing him to stop pacing. “You have the millions you need to
start your own company. You have the contacts to get it going. Let
him find out.”

“Are you nuts? He would cut me off without a
cent from the Trosclair fortune. I could wind up in prison for the
things I’ve done.” Quentin raked shaking hands threw his hair.

“No he won’t. Stop and
think!” She grabbed his hands forcing them down to his sides. “For
generations your family has been obsessed with the right of direct
descendants to the Trosclair fortune. No matter what he says, he
won’t cut off his only grandson. He hasn’t yet, has he?
No
. Claude Phillip
Trosclair is too proud of his bloodline. And he will never see you
go to prison, not even charged. Claude will never see the family
name disgraced by such a scandal. Sure he may tie the money up into
a trust that gets doled out to you, but so what? You said yourself,
Clayton has ambitious associates. You might bribe the attorney into
making it vulnerable to attack later on. Think it
through.”

“I don’t know, the old goat can be
unpredictable sometimes.” Quentin resumed chewing his
fingernails.

“Listen to me, all we have to do is examine
all the possibilities and have a plan of action for each one.”
LaShaun took his hands again. Bringing them to her lips, she began
flicking her tongue along his knuckles.

“What about your friend, Savannah St. Julien.
I’d like to see her pay and pay dearly. Her and that father of
hers, too.”

“I’ve already made plans for them both. Dark
horrors await the St. Julien clan.” LaShaun laughed deep within her
throat.

“Such as? Tell me.” Quentin’s breath
quickened.

“The warnings I’ve been leaving for the
uppity bitch will seem like love tokens compared to what comes
next. She’ll go right over the edge. And take her loving father
with her.”

“But we have to do something about my
grandfather, damn him. This could all be solved if the old man
would just drop dead.” Quentin murmured. His eyes narrowed as he
watched her hands move down his stomach.

“As I said, all possibilities can be
explored.”Stepping back, she allowed her robe to fall open. Her
brown body still glistened from the scented oil she had massaged
into her skin earlier. Letting it drop to her feet, she used her
palms to caress herself.

“You know how I am when I get tensed up like
this.” Quentin gripped her arms tightly, his fingers digging into
her.

“Yes.” Stroking her hips against his, she
could feel his excitement.

“And you know what I need.” Quentin’s voice
was raspy. LaShaun, her eyes gleaming, turned without answering and
went into the bedroom. Quentin shrugged off his robe before joining
her.

*****

Savannah worked feverishly day and night. It
was the only way she could keep thoughts of Paul from crowding out
everything else. It was the only activity that made being without
him somewhat tolerable. At least, less painful. Not that the
feeling of a great yawning hole in the center of her being ever
really went away. But work is like all narcotics, she gradually
needed more to numb the hurt. Because of this, she went to the shop
early and stayed late. Mercifully she was thrown into the frenetic
preparation of getting a line of Tante Marie's seasonings, Creole
sauces, and recipes on a national shopping channel. Savannah had
gotten the idea during all those long, lonely nights of watching
late night television. Through her tenacious efforts to make
contacts, she had finally won an interview with one of the
buyers.Charice stopped in one night while Savannah was working late
at the shop. She shook her head in wonder at the projected sales
figures from the marketing department of the shopping network.
"Damn, I'm scared of you. Y'all are going to be millionaires real
soon.""We did a limited test sale in just a few of their markets.
Our products sold out in two hours! This is just the beginning."
Savannah began counting the stacks of boxes ready for shipment the
next day to the shopping channel's distribution center.

"Savannah--"

"We hired four people down at the pecan
shelling plant. Mr. Benoit was nice enough to rent us the space to
pack Tante Marie's products. Take that Mr. Claude Trosclair. We can
find other ways to put people back to work." Savannah thumped down
a package of red beans seasoning into an open box.

"Savannah, this is all well and good but..."
Charice said putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't," Savannah pleaded.

"You're going at top speed constantly,
working like crazy. You're pulled as tight as a piano wire. I'm
afraid you might snap under the strain."

"It may seem that way, but working like this
is therapy for me. Get that worried look off your face." Savannah
pinched her cheek playfully.

"I've just never seen you like this before. I
hate to see you hurting."

"Hey, this isn't going to kill me. Besides,
Poppy and I had a long talk about Mama. He told me things he'd kept
pent up inside for years. We're closer than ever. So, while one
relationship may have bombed, another one has blossomed in a
beautiful new way. I feel like I've got my father back
finally."

"That's great, fantastic. But it's not the
same."

"I've made up my mind not to be dragged along
by what other people do. I'm going to take control of my life like
I started to do when I left Clayton, Briggs, and Schuster. No more
distractions. I'm working on Project Me."

"Go, girl. Now come on, it's after seven
o'clock. Why don't you call it a night. By the looks of it you've
done the work of three men in here." Charice looked around her at
the neatly stacked boxes, typed price lists, and recently organized
shop.

"No, I want to finish up a few more things. I
won't be too much longer," Savannah said picking up a ledger.
"Besides, when Poppy gets back from market in New Orleans, there
will be tons of extra work for us."

"It's late and hardly anybody is around here.
With all the stuff that's been happening lately, you shouldn't be
in here alone."

"Go on home. I know you have to pick up the
dynamic duo and get them ready for bed."

"Ain't that the truth. It' weird, if they
don't get to bed by eight thirty I catch hell trying to get them to
unwind for another two hours at least." Charice shook her head.

"Well by my watch, your time is running out."
Savannah laughed.

"Oh wow, you're right. Promise not to stay
too long?" Charice paused with her hand on the door knob, a slight
frown on her face.

"Go home, please. I'll be in bed before you
at this rate."

Making sure to lock the door behind her,
Savannah plunged back into reviewing the figures. She was more than
pleased with what she was finding as the whirring of the adding
machine produced a printout of the profits. Satisfied, she began
projections on how well Antoine's wooden carvings might do.
Savannah had the idea of offering them as numbered and signed
limited edition pieces on the shopping channel. Two hours passed
quickly as she became engrossed in her tasks.

A thump followed by the creaking of wood
seemed to echo in the quiet shop. Savannah left the tiny office
thinking maybe her father was at the front door. Seeing no one, she
decided it was as good a time as any to take one last break before
finishing up. She stretched, her muscles stiff from sitting for two
hours bent over paperwork. Pushing the last few boxes into the
store room she heard a soft rustling sound behind her. She whirled
around, her heart beating hard. Cautiously, she took slow
deliberate steps back into the shop. Noticing that the light in the
office was out, she began to tremble.

"Don't be stupid, probably just an old light
bulb went out," Savannah chided herself.Still she checked the front
door to make sure it was locked. Sighing deeply after finding that
it was, she giggled nervously with relief. That relief evaporated
when she found that the light bulb was missing from the desk lamp.
The wall switch for the overhead light had been broken for weeks
and T-Leon hadn't gotten a chance to fix it with all the new orders
coming in. Fumbling in the dark, Savannah searched a file drawer
for the package of extra light bulbs. Out of the corner of her eye
she saw the light behind her blink out. For a few heartbeats she
froze in place, too frightened at what she might see if she turned
around. All of the nightmare visions that had terrorized her for
the past few months flooded back at that moment. Gripping the desk,
she fought to steady herself and think clearly. If someone were in
the shop, her exit that way was cut off. Cautiously she moved to
the back door feeling her way along in the dark, trying not to make
any noise. Suddenly her knees banged against something hard and she
fell forward. Not all of the boxes would fit in the storeroom, so
she had stacked them high in the office against the only clear
wall; which effectively blocked the back door.

With a soft cry, Savannah moved back to the
desk. Her hands swept the desk top and in her haste to find it, she
knocked the phone to the floor away from her. Now unconcerned about
being silent, she moved quickly in the direction of the dial tone
from the receiver. As she bent over frantically searching the
darkness, a large hand covered her mouth. She was roughly pulled
back into the office. The door leading into the shop slammed shut
cutting off even the faint glimmer from the street light outside
the large front window.