Dark Sacrifice (24 page)

“I own this building.” Her head tilts, and she sniffs. “Smells like sex and woman's blood in here.”

A blush heats my face. A quick glance at the bed shows dried spots of blood on the sheet, and I groan.

I spin to face Magnolia and point toward Sophia. “Ferdinand told you what she did, didn't he? You've got some nerve bringing her here.”

Magnolia snaps her fingers.

Sophia's shoulders jerk. She crawls over to Magnolia and lays her head in my aunt's lap. Magnolia pets her hair, and if Sophia had a tail, she'd be wagging it.

“Sophia's a good girl. She knows her place, follows orders, and doesn't question me all of the time unlike a certain hard-headed niece.”

It takes a second to work out what she means aside from the insult. That I got loud and clear.

Landry tugs on the sheet. “What did Sophia do to piss you off?”

“Not now, Landry.” Right now I've got to get to the heart of the matter. My anger's misplaced. Sophia's assault on Landry was at the request of the wicked Hoodoo Queen of New Orleans. “Why, Magnolia?”

Magnolia slaps her hand down onto the back of Sophia's head. “Why you always got to question me? You
begged
for my help in getting rid of the demon riding your boy-toy.”

I stiffen at the word.
Don't recall no begging involved.

“Landry's natural defenses had to drop for the demon to climb out of its hidey-hole and take control of his body.” Magnolia puckers her liver-lips. “Sophia says it's strong. It's angry. Hates being powerless, but it's biding its time till it finishes eating Landry's soul. Soon it'll be plenty full and strong enough to use the boy's shell for its own purposes. What that purpose is, I don't know. 'Cause of your interference, Sophia didn't get a chance to find out.”

Feeding on Landry's soul.
Damn.

Cold sweat runs down my spine. I smell my fear.
Crap, I fucked up
. “Fine, fine, I misunderstood her motivations.”
Still doesn't make her right.
My chin juts out. “If you'd told us your plan…” I shake my head, so confused. Would I have gone along with it if I'd known? No. I wouldn't have believed her. Not before seeing the girl rise from the dead. I didn't understand how powerful magic could be.
A demon's eating Landry's soul.

“Hold on!” Landry spins me around. “What happened after I got drunk? 'Cause what I'm getting from this cryptic conversation is that the demon came out to play last night.”

“You didn't get drunk. Sophia drugged you.” I watch the shifting storm cloud gather in his eye as he processes my words. I lay my hand on his tense bicep. “Magnolia's saying it was to draw out the demon.”

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. “Why didn't you tell me? What did Sophia do?”

“Trust me, baby. It's better you don't remember.”

His arm drops. He stares at Sophia for a long, hard moment. The color in his face slowly fades until he's as white as the sheets on the bed. He meets my gaze, and I see his dawning horror.

S
ophia meets my gaze and raises an eyebrow in my direction. Her tongue flicks out to trace her lips, and I shudder. Cold sweat drips in my eye, and my stomach clenches. My heart pounds in time with the assault from the returning memories. She…she took me beneath a tree while I screamed, trapped in my mind.

Helpless.

Nothing but a worthless puppet who got his strings pulled by the parasite burrowing beneath my skin, and, worse, I couldn't stop Sophia. Her hot breath blew in my face, and her tongue thrust between my clenched teeth as she ran her hands across my heated flesh. How far did it go?

The groan comes from deep inside. I fall back against the wall, closing my eye. The memories replay like I'm watching an actor on a movie screen, only they're disjointed and unorganized flashes of an unedited melodrama.

“Landry? Are you okay?” Mala touches my cheek, and I flinch.

I've got to get out of here.

I shove off the wall, avoiding Mala's hands with a twist. My feet don't want to leave her, refusing to cooperate as if they have minds of their own—each step an agonizing struggle. Ferdinand tries to stop me. Hell, everyone's yelling at me. Their voices buzz in my ears. But he's the only fool who goes hands on, like he can shove through the anger burning inside me.

Ferdinand's hand on my shoulder ignites the fuse, and I explode.

My first jab lands in the middle of his rock-solid gut. Air
whoosh
es out of him, and he doubles over with a groan. My downward punch hits square beneath his eye. I barrel out of the room before he collapses. My rage has barely been tapped. It boils, steaming over in a torrent of destruction. It's only after my foot gets stuck in the hole I kicked in the living room wall that I return to myself.

Still, it takes another minute before I calm down enough to pick away the plaster holding my bare foot in place. Sweat-soaked hair hangs in my face. Blood runs from my knuckles to drip into the white carpet.

And…I'm naked. With an audience.

My vision blurs from the sting in my eye.

Mala huddles against the refrigerator with a frying pan in one hand. The other holds the sheet around her trembling body. Fear widens her eyes. Her lips move, but I can't hear her over the thumping in my ears.

My gaze moves from Mala to the room. It's trashed. The plasma TV lies on the ground, the coffee table's been tossed on its side, and broken pieces of glass cover the floor. Smears of blood dot the white carpet.

I drop to the ground and press my back against the wall. My fingers flex, curling into fists, and I wince at the pain from my bleeding knuckles. A hand tentatively touches my shoulder, and I flinch.

“Landry,” Mala whispers, voice cracking. She sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. Her warm tears drip down my bare arm.

How can she bear to touch me after what happened with Sophia? She saw us together. She should be as disgusted as I am.

“It's not your fault.” She hugs me tighter. “I knew what Magnolia was capable of, but I never thought…I'm so sorry.”

Damn. How can she believe she's responsible? I guzzled down her champagne along with my own. I should've said no, but passing up free alcohol isn't in my skill set. Hell, the Top Five Fuck-Ups that have screwed up my life happened 'cause I was smashed.

You'd think I'd learn from my mistakes.

Now I've got a new #1: Almost Fucking the Hoodoo Queen's Sex Puppet.

Stupid.

My breaths come in rough gasps, and I twist around to drag Mala into my arms before she changes her mind about being with me. As her warm body molds itself against mine, the rush of desperation fueled by the thought of losing her subsides. Our roles switch as I comfort her. It kills me she feels so guilty. I should say something, but I can't talk yet.

Mala thinks she should've seen it coming. It's the other way around. It's my job to protect her, and I failed. Again.

Her curls smell of the herbs from the bath—lavender and mint. I bury my face in the thick mass and inhale. My arms tighten, pulling so hard her breasts flatten against my chest. Her hand rubs my back, and she begins to rock in my arms, like she's listening to an internal lullaby. I can almost hear it myself, a low hum beneath the questions popping into my mind, one after another.

Were both of the drinks drugged? If so, what was Magnolia's ultimate plan for Mala? Did she follow through with it? Did she hurt my girl while I was being handled? I never asked Mala where she disappeared to or what happened to her.

We need to talk.

“Where did everyone go?” My voice sounds gruff from yelling.

Mala gives a shaky chuckle, but her arms tighten. “They shot out like lightning bugs were sparking their butts.”

“Smart move. If I'd gotten my hands on Sophia, I might've killed her. Hell, I was so out of it that I could've hurt you by mistake.”

“You'd never hurt me.”

I sigh at the stubborn set to her chin. “Maybe you believe that, but I don't. The demon's feeding off my soul. This”—I wave my hand to indicate the hole in the wall—“wasn't me. Yeah, I'm pissed. But that
thing
did this. I lost control, and it took advantage.”

That's the truth of the matter.

Mala gives a jerky nod, then rises. “You're right, but we still have time to figure out a solution. We've got a more pressing problem to deal with.”

“What's the matter now?”

“Dena.” Her mouth opens then closes. “I think she's running out of time. Come on. Magnolia said Etienne will drive us home. I'll explain everything in the car.”

“Wait. Did you call the kids? Is she home?” I chase after her.

She freezes in the doorway to our suite with a muffled cry. “Where's the sheet?”

Confused, I stare at the bed. Sure enough, the mattress has been stripped. Mala turns to face me with wide eyes.
Woman's blood and sex.
Magnolia used those words. I run over to the trash can where I tossed the condom. The
empty
trash. “Son of a—”

“Why would she take…” Mala holds up her hand. “You know what? I don't care. The crazy witch can have them. We can't do anything about whatever spell she's brewing up. What's important is getting back to Paradise Pointe and finding Dena before that guy murders her.”

“What guy? Who has Dena?”

Mala grabs a T-shirt and shorts from the dresser while I watch, cold and confused. A tear leaks down her cheek. She slams the empty drawer shut so hard the mirror rattles. Her movements are jerky as she flops onto the bed and stuffs her legs into the shorts, inching them up over her hips with a wiggle that should turn me on but doesn't. Not right now. Not when worry creases Mala's forehead.

“I guess it's the fourth guy. I saw him when I traveled…you know, like how I used to visit you in jail.” She shoves her head out of the top of her T-shirt in time to catch my nod. “The asshole's got her tied up in a dark room. I'm not sure where. I should've checked since I was invisible.” She lets out a huge sigh. “We'll call George, report her as missing. Get him to search for—”

“—a dark room?”

Mala stiffens at the skepticism in my tone. “What else can I do? He'll kill her. I don't know why she's still alive.”

“'Cause she's bait. For us.”

DA Cready predicted the guy would make his move. Does he know Dena's a witness? Or is she a convenient hostage because she's our friend? I have to believe she's still alive 'cause he's waiting for us to return. He'll use her to draw us to him and take us all down. The only way to stop him is if we can turn the trap around on him.

While Mala does one last check of the room to make sure we haven't forgotten anything, I stop off in the bathroom to use the first aid kit I find in a cabinet and quickly get dressed. I'm sad we have to leave. Even with all the bad shit's that's happened, this place feels safe. For one magical night, Mala and I connected. Now chaos returns to toss our lives to the whims of fate.

When I finish, I join Mala in the elevator with our bags. She grabs my hand, punching the down button with the other. “Hey, it's not so bad. I think all we have to do is tell George about our power, the ghosts, everything.”

“That's your master plan?”

“Okay, I made that sound easier than it really is. I may resort to a show-and-tell. Bring him proof.” A wicked light enters her eyes. “Not like we've got a choice. If we don't, he won't believe us about Dena being held captive. I can't let anything happen to her because I'm too scared to admit the truth.”

As soon as we get in the Cadillac, Mala calls George. She doesn't go into any details of her vision other than to say she has information about why Dena's missing. The rest of the drive home is as quiet as the drive to New Orleans. Mala and I soak in our own thoughts, trying to plan how we're going to handle George.

George paces on the porch when Etienne parks the Cadi in front of Mala's house. Dena's twin brothers, Daryl and Carl, are also waiting for us. The boys have grown up in the last couple of days. They look like men, rough and full of sadness. It's a damn shame. First they lost both of their parents. Now their sister.

No, we'll get Dena back. Somehow.

I grab the bags out of the trunk of the car and head for the porch. Mala lingers by the car, thanking Etienne. She's procrastinating. This will be the most difficult conversation she'll ever have. If not handled right, not only will George refuse to help, we'll get locked up in the mental hospital and Dena's SOL.

Maybe spilling our guts isn't such a good idea. Too many things can go wrong by bringing in Deputy Dawg. We should handle this solo. Or get Dad. He swore he'd help to protect Mala, but he can't do that if he's hiding out from the law.

George bounds down the stairs. “What's going on?” He glances over his shoulder at the twins. “The boys filled me in on Dena's disappearance. I take it she didn't just run off? What does Mala know that she can't say over the phone?”

“Yeah, it's complicated.” I drop the bags to wait for my girl. Mala comes running up. I grab her arm before she can bypass me and go for George, like I'm invisible or some shit. She shouldn't act so happy to see another guy when she's with me or lift her arms like she's about to hug him.

No. Hugging and kissing, definitely not allowed.

“Hold on.” I pull her against my side and wrap my arm around her waist.

She squirms in my arms, throwing looks from George to me. “What?”

“We need to talk.”

Mala pokes my side with a finger. “We've talked. Don't get squirrely now.”

George steps closer. “Look, don't waste my time. If ya'll know something about Dena, spit it out.”

I answer with a hard glare.

“Fine! Sort it out.” George throws his hands into the air and stomps back over to the staircase to talk to the twins.

Mala watches him go, blinking hard.

I state the obvious.
Again.
“He's not gonna believe us,”

“I know, but I've got to try. You go find our skillet-dirtying Goldilocks. Tell him we need help and it's time to keep his promise.” She stares hard into my eye, forcing me to interpret the emotional chaos in her gaze. Frustration, betrayal…Goldilocks and baloney.

Oh shit!
Excuses and apologies race through my mind only to be discarded one after the other. None of them will dig me out of this hole. I'm so busted.

“Is that guilt I see?” she asks with a wicked half smile–half grimace that contorts her face. It's terrifying, in an unpredictable I'm-gonna-get-punched kind of way. “Good! Yeah, you should be ashamed about lying to me.”

I rub at the burning hole in my chest. “When did you find out?”

“The day you met your dad in the woods, I got worried and followed you.” She rises on tiptoes and plants a kiss on my cheek, whispering “I overheard how he didn't help kill Mama.”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“I trust you, Landry.” She stares hard at the ground for a long moment, as if unable to meet my gaze, and I want to die. When she looks up, tears shimmer in her eyes. “I just wish you'd trusted me enough to be honest about who was eating all of our food.”

Gut punched.
Ouch.

I swallow hard, throwing a glance in George's direction to see if he heard. I think his reaction would've been more heated than the glare he's giving. That I think has to do with her kiss. It might not help our situation, but I give in to my inner caveman by wrapping my arm around Mala's waist and pulling her against me. She gasps as my mouth finds hers, opening up to my tongue. The kiss lasts until a clearing throat pulls us apart.

Yeah, George. She's mine now.

I give Mala one last kiss on the forehead for luck before sprinting off.

I'm halfway to the back shed where Dad's been staying before I hear the twins running footsteps. I spin around. “Naw, not happening. Go back to the house.”

Daryl, the chubby twin, doubles over with his hands on his knees, panting. His flushed face screws up. “We're going with you.”

“Like hell.”

Carl puffs his narrow chest. “You can't stop us. Dena's our sister.”

“Besides,” Daryl says with a grin, “we know how to find Reverend Prince.”

My eyebrows rise.

“We know he's been staying here”—Daryl runs out of breath so Carl finishes—“to watch out for you and Mala. When we told him Deputy Dubois was coming out, he told us where he'll be waiting for you.”

“And where is that?”

The twins share a smug look.

“Fine, you can come, but only as far as the meeting place. Then you're going home. I'm not answering to your sister if you get yourselves hurt.”