The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1) (24 page)

BOOK: The Satyr's Curse (The Satyr's Curse Series Book 1)
5.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He lightly chuckled as he made his way to the first floor. “I assure you, Jazzmyn, nothing and no one will be killed during the ceremony.”

“But what about the sacrifice?” she asked behind him.

When Julian reached the bottom of the stairs, he glanced up at her. “What sacrifice?”

“Ms. Helen said there must be a sacrifice to supply the power needed to change you back. Something that is dear to you; something you love.”

Julian angrily rubbed his hand across his chin. “Is that why you’ve been acting so funny this evening, because you think I’m going to kill you in order to be human again?”

“It had crossed my mind.”

Julian placed his hands on his hips. “You need to tell that old woman at the restaurant to stop filling your head with such nonsense. I can’t have a ceremony without you, Jazzmyn. I can’t become human if I kill you.” He shook his head and waved her down the stairs. “Now, come on.” He looked at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “We need to get going.”

She came down the steps to his side and nodded to the watch. “Why do you get to wear a modern watch and I can’t pull my hair back or put on deodorant?”

He picked up a black duffel bag from the table by the front door. “Because I’m not the one who was chosen. My aura is already black so modern conveniences, like my watch, won’t change anything.”

He opened the double front doors and headed outside. As Jazzmyn stood at the entrance to her home, a sudden feeling of dread gripped her. It was like a thousand cold icicles shooting into her body at once. She knew if she crossed that threshold, something bad was going to happen.

Julian held out his hand to her. “Come, Jazzmyn.”

“Jazzmyn, don’t do it,” a man’s voice pleaded from the side of her front porch.

When Kyle stepped from the darkness and into the porch light, an excruciating anguish sliced through Jazzmyn’s heart.

“What are you doing here?” Julian shouted.

“I came for her.” Kyle pointed at Jazzmyn. “You can’t have her, Julian.”

Jazzmyn swerved to Julian. She could see the change beginning in him. The darkness of the night surrounding them seemed to seep into him. His eyes became large, black orbs and his body appeared to grow in height and width.

“You bitch!” he screamed at Jazzmyn. “You gave yourself to him. What I smelled was not the restaurant, it was his seed, inside you.”

Julian’s physique almost doubled in size before her. His muscles bulged beneath the fabric of his black shirt and pants. Little white horns began protruding from the top of his head and his face contorted into a demonic expression.

“What the hell?” Kyle moved toward Jazzmyn.

Julian held out his arms and glowered at Jazzmyn. “This is what I am. This is what I become,” he cried out in an unearthly voice.

“Get inside!” Kyle yelled, pushing her into the house.

But Julian was much too fast for him and within seconds he was on top of Kyle, pinning him beneath his massive body in the doorway. Julian kneeled before her as he placed his powerful hands around Kyle’s throat.

“I can rip his head off with one twist of my hands,” Julian’s deep voice asserted as his black eyes glared at Jazzmyn. “You have a choice. Come with me, or I will kill him.”

“Jazzmyn—” Kyle cried out, but Julian tightened his grip around his throat, cutting off his words.

“No, Julian, don’t.” Jazzmyn stepped outside the front doors. “I will go with you. I will commit to you, just don’t hurt him.”

Julian leaned over Kyle’s face and sniffed his breath. “I can smell the fear in you, boy.”

“Julian, please, let him go!”

“How do I know you won’t betray me again with him?” Julian snarled.

“I will do whatever you want. I will stay with you always, but you must promise never to harm Kyle.”

Kyle’s eyes pleaded with her not to do it, but she had no choice. They could never be together as long as Julian lived. She had become just as cursed as the monster kneeling before her.

“You will stay with me, be my wife in every way for the rest of our lives?” Julian demanded, letting his hands slacken ever so slightly around Kyle’s throat.

“Whatever you want, but you must let Kyle go. Promise me he will always be safe.”

Julian nodded his head. “Once you have committed to me, I promise to never lay a hand on him.” Julian released Kyle.

Kyle rolled over to his side, gagging and grabbing at his throat.

His watery blue eyes connected with her when he felt her hand on his arm. “What just happened?” he whispered to her.

She helped him to his feet. “My unicorn just tried to kill you.”

Kyle stood up next to her. “Thanks for not saying I told you so,” he mumbled.

When they turned to Julian, he appeared normal. His eyes were dark brown again, not black, and his body had returned to its former shape and size. The horns protruding from his head had completely disappeared.

“She loves me,” Kyle proclaimed in a hoarse voice. “Your stupid ceremony won’t work because she loves me, not you.”

Julian grinned. “All she has to do is speak the words, Kyle. Odette Livaudais never loved me, either. She just pretended to.” Julian slammed his fist into Kyle’s face, sending him hurtling through the front doors of the house and into the foyer.

“Kyle!” Jazzmyn screamed as she made a move to go after him, but Julian held her back.

“He will keep.” Julian shut the doors, took her keys from his pocket, and set the deadbolt. “When we return, I will let him go.”

Jazzmyn grabbed Julian’s thick arm. “You promised not to hurt him.”

He removed her hand from his arm and replaced the keys in his pocket. “I promised not to hurt him once you have committed to me. When you have held up your end of the bargain, I will honor mine.” 

“When you become human, Julian, you will be just as vulnerable as the next guy, and then I will leave you,” she growled.

Julian laughed as he picked up the black duffel bag from the ground and swung it over his thick shoulder. “You will never leave me, Jazzmyn. Try to end our relationship in any way, and the curse will return.” He lowered his head to her. “Then, I will hunt Kyle down and rip him apart limb from limb right before your eyes.”

“Ms. Helen was right. You are a demon,” Jazzmyn asserted, feeling the bile rise up the back of her throat.

“One day I have got to meet this, Ms. Helen. It seems I might have a lot to discuss with her.” He grasped her hand. “Come, we’re wasting moonlight.”

He dragged her down the front steps, heading to his dark blue Maserati, just as the full moon appeared from behind a cloud. The eerie light streamed through the tall oaks next to Jazzmyn’s home, illuminating the bricked pathway below her feet. She glanced back at the wide doors of her beloved home and yearned to go to Kyle. Jazzmyn knew the only way she was going to have any chance of saving him was to go with Julian and do whatever he asked. It seemed that her worst nightmare was about to come true.

Chapter 21

 

Lafayette Cemetery Number One was the oldest cemetery in the Garden District, and a short drive from Jazzmyn’s home. Established in 1833, it was originally part of the city of Lafayette, which was later incorporated into New Orleans.

During the bright light of day, the cemetery was a hub of tourist activity, with tour buses and cabs often seen waiting outside the massive, black wrought iron gates that marked the entrance. With Commander’s Palace Restaurant right across the street, there was always a flurry of people about to add an air of normalcy to the graveyard. But by the time the shade of night descended and Commander’s Palace closed its doors, the cemetery took on a unearthly atmosphere.

Julian parked his car before the tall, delicately designed gates that led to the long alleyways of raised graves. The full moon above illuminated the smooth vaulted tombs behind the cemetery’s high-bricked walls with a pale light. Shadows from the statuary of angels and otherwordly figures placed above many of the mini-masoleums filled the streets of the dead, making it appear as if mourners from funeral processions in the past had never left their loved ones behind.

“Every Livaudais from Odette’s father to your father is buried here,” Julian remarked as he looked up at the beautiful gates outside his car window.

Jazzmyn glimpsed her trembling hands. “My father wanted to be buried with his family.”

“When your time comes, will you join him?”

She leveled her dark green eyes on him. “Are you planning for me to join him anytime soon?”

Julian gingerly patted her thigh. “No, my love. I will be watching over you. I can’t afford for anything to happen to you.”

“Or the curse comes back, is that it?”

Julian grabbed the duffel bag from the back seat. “Once you have committed to me in a formal ceremony, I will be bound to you. It does not matter whether the curse returns, or I remain mortal; after tonight, Jazzmyn, you will never be free of me.”

Jazzmyn shook her head. “This just gets better and better. What’s to stop me from putting a bullet in my head after tonight?”

Julian reached for his car door. “You won’t do that. You fear death more than you fear me.” He opened his door and stepped outside.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, asshole,” Jazzmyn muttered, and then noticed the engagment ring on her left hand. She angrily yanked the ring from her finger and dropped it on the floor of the car.

After he opened her door, she stood beside the car and peered through the cemetery gates as a chilly breeze enveloped her.

Julian came alongside her and swung the duffel bag over his shoulder.

“In a short while we’ll leave this place joined as one, and then we will begin our new life together.”

Jazzmyn looked over at him. “You want to spend the rest of your life with a woman who despises you? Why?”

He placed his powerful hand over the back of her neck. “Ah, but there is a part of you that wants me too, Jazzmyn. That you cannot deny. All the emotions you have for me are the same as Odette’s. She hated me for raping her, but at the same time she was attracted to me.” He gently squeezed her neck and urged her forward toward the cemetery gates.

“But how could she be attracted to you after what you did to her?” Jazzmyn challenged when they stood before the gates.

Julian let her go when he spied the chain that held the gates closed. “I have often asked myself that same question. Odette was kept cloistered all her life. Educated by the Ursuline Convent nuns and only presented to society at well-chaperoned balls, she knew nothing about men.” He gripped the chain with both hands. “That night of the rape, when I went to her home, it was because she invited me. She arranged for Eve to be away and for us to be alone.” He began pulling at the chain with his bare hands.

Jazzmyn watched in horror as the thick metal chain ripped apart like paper.  

Julian eased the chain through the gate and dropped it to the ground. He wiped his hands together and then pulled the gates open.

“Initially, when I was alone with Odette, I was a proper gentleman, but she was the one who made improper advances toward me. She was curious about the opposite sex, so I educated her,” he explained as they began to walk down the wide main street inside the cemetery.

Jazzmyn cast her eyes to the shell-covered road. “No means no, Julian. I’m sure that was just as true in your time as it is today.”

“Not quite. In my day, if you made advances to a man, you had better be prepared to see them through.” He directed his eyes down one of the side alleys that turned off the main road. “This way,” he ordered, pointing to a narrow walkway.

Jazzmyn followed him as he turned down the alley.

“After the rape, Odette came to me. She blamed herself for what had occurred. And then a funny thing happened.” Julian paused. “She wanted more. Raping her did not turn her off to sex, it turned her on to me.” He laughed, a cruel sounding chortle that made Jazzmyn’s blood run cold. “She wanted me to overpower her, to dominate her like I had the night I raped her.” He shrugged. “Needless to say she was a frequent visitor to my bed after that.”

Jazzmyn observed his profile in the bright moonlight. “Then why did she kill herself?”

Julian stopped at another intersection of alleyways. “She didn’t hang herself,” he coolly stated.

Jazzmyn froze. “What are you saying?”

“One of Odette’s favorite games in bed was rape. She could only achieve an orgasm if I practically strangled the life out of her. Today, you would call it asphyxiaphilia or erotic asphyxiation.”

Jazzmyn closed her eyes as a wave of nausea passed through her.

“One night, things got a little out of hand.” He turned down the path.

“So you hung her body from a tree in the back garden of her home to cover your tracks,” Jazzmyn surmised as she fell in step beside him.

“There was no CSI or forensic analysis back then, Jazzmyn. I had to make it look like she killed herself. For something like that to have gotten out would have ruined me and my family. I never meant to harm her, I was just participating in her fantasy. Despite what you might think, I became quite fond of little Odette.”

“But what about the curse? If she didn’t kill herself because she was shamed, then why did Eve curse you?”

He stopped and turned to her. “Because the stupid bitch didn’t know!” he shouted. “She didn’t know about Odette and me. Odette never told her. She never told anyone. Eve assumed I had done something cruel to make Odette kill herself, but Odette was smaller than you, Jazzmyn. She was five-foot-two and very petite. No one bothered to ask how such a small woman could hang herself from a tree branch ten feet off the ground.” He stopped and ran his hand through his curly hair, calming himself. “When you wanted to kill yourself in my time, you took poison or used a gun. Hanging was something you did to runaway slaves and condemned prisoners. It was a shameful death, and Eve knew it.”

“She figured Odette had been shamed in some way and had chosen hanging as a way to point the finger at you. Is that it?”

He nodded. “In the end, all of this comes down to a simple mistake. If I had left Odette’s body to be found on the street, they would have assumed she had been strangled by a robber, and I would never have been cursed. In trying to hide my crime, I did not think my actions through and jumped to the one form of death I thought would completely cover my guilt.” He began making his way along a path in between several large tombs.

Jazzmyn quickly followed him. “Why didn’t you just go to Eve and tell her the truth? Maybe she would have lifted the curse?”

“I did. She said I deserved the curse no matter what the truth was. She said I had corrupted Odette. I had killed her the moment I was betrothed to her.”

Julian suddenly stopped before a large tomb that Jazzmyn instantly recognized.

Made of pure white marble and done in the Baroque style, the tomb rose fifteen feet into the air and was over ten feet wide. At the top was the large decorative ornamental urn that bore the name of “Livaudais” at its base. The square mini-masoleum was decorated with wreaths, swords, and swirls, reflecting the icons found in the family coat of arms. When she was a little girl, Jazzmyn’s father would bring her to this cemetery every All Saint’s Day to help him wipe the grime of the city from the fine marble tomb. She remembered how her father would go down the long list of names carved on the bronze front panel and share tidbits of information about every former Livaudais.

“You made it, I see,” a woman’s deep, throaty voice called from the darkness surrounding them.

Emerging from the shadows of the neighboring Iberia Society sepulcher was a round woman dressed all in white. She had a white turban wrapped around her head, wore a white robe tied at the waist with rope, and sported a pair of white nursing shoes. Her face was covered by dark glasses, and she carried a brown paper shopping bag in her hand.

“You brought everythin’ I told you to bring?” she queried in a voice that sounded vaguely familiar to Jazzmyn.

Julian nodded and placed the duffel bag on the ground by her feet. “We also had our ritual baths, as per your instructions,” he assured her.

The older woman removed several white candles from inside the brown paper shopping bag. She handed the candles to Julian. “Place these at the four corners of the tomb.” She unzipped the top of the duffel bag and dug around until she pulled out the jar of olive oil. “Spread the oil around the outside of the tomb in a thin line,” she instructed.

Julian took the candles and jar of oil in his hands, and walked over to the grave.

Jazzmyn moved closer to the woman and inspected her round face.

“You’re the bride?” the older woman asked in her gruff voice.

Jazzmyn nodded. “You’re Lucinda La Cre. Have we met before?”

Lucinda lowered the dark glasses covering her eyes. “How ya holdin’ up, child?” Ms. Helen whispered to her, and then she winked.

Jazzmyn jumped. “You?” She quickly lowered her voice so Julian could not hear. “You’re Lucinda?”

Ms. Helen chuckled. “My priestess name is Lucinda La Cre. The tourists like it if you give them somethin’ theatrical. They tip better that way.”

“If he finds out you’re not a voodoo priestess, he’ll kill you.”

Ms. Helen waved an unconcerned hand at her. “But I am a voodoo priestess, Jazzmyn. I’ve always been strong in the art. Not to worry, I know what I’m doin’.”

Julian came back to Jazzmyn’s side. “I’ve laid out the candles and spread the oil. Now what?”

Ms. Helen looked him over from head to toe. “Get the pennies, your picture, and the knife from the duffel bag.” She motioned to the front of the tomb and handed him a box of matches. “Lay those things out at the entrance to the tomb and then light the candles.” She gazed up at the night sky. “Moon’s almost at its height. Time to get started.”

Julian laid the pennies, knife, and his miniature portrait out on the front ledge of the tomb. When he began to light the candles, the air around the large, vaulted structure quickly changed. Instead of a cool spring breeze, the atmosphere grew heavy with condensation.

Jazzmyn turned to Ms. Helen. “What’s happening?” She waved her hand through the thick mist that was swirling around them.

“The spirits are comin’,” Ms. Helen told her. “The air changes when they show up. They know somethin’ is gonna happen.”

Julian went to Jazzmyn’s side, but Ms. Helen pulled him away. “You stand here, facin’ Odette.” She positioned Julian in front of the tomb and turned his head to face the long bronze panel listing the names of all the grave’s occupants. “Look at Odette’s name at the top of the list,” Ms. Helen directed. “Think of her, what she was like and how she looked. Call to her spirit with your mind.” Ms. Helen then took Jazzmyn’s hand. “You stand here, behind him.” She placed Jazzmyn behind Julian. “Look at him and think only of your love for him.”

Jazzmyn stared at the back of Julian’s head as a swirling drizzle surrounded the two of them. The mist moved closer to Jazzmyn, hovering about her hips and waist.

Ms. Helen came up to her side and noted how the light swirl of thick air concentrated around her. “Just what I figured,” Ms. Helen huffed and placed her hands on her wide hips.

Julian turned to her. “What? What is it?”

Ms. Helen pointed to Jazzmyn. “Is this woman your intended?”

Julian nodded. “She is a Livaudais, a direct descendent of Odette’s and the chosen one.”

Ms. Helen shook her head. “She ain’t your chosen one.” She placed her hand over Jazzmyn’s lower abdomen. “This is your chosen one. The child inside her is the one who will set you free.”

Jazzmyn glanced down at Ms. Helen’s hand covering her stomach. “You’re joking?”

Ms. Helen smiled at her. “You’re the gateway to his reckonin’. The child is his reckonin’.” She removed her hand from Jazzmyn’s belly. “Your daughter is the one who will end the curse, Jazzmyn.”

Julian staggered around to face her. “You’re pregnant?”

Jazzmyn threw her hands in the air. “It’s news to me!”

“How can I be a father?” he asked, turning to Ms. Helen.

“I didn’t say you were the father.” Ms. Helen nodded to Jazzmyn. “But she is your intended.”

Other books

Caribbean Rain by Rick Murcer
Dangerous Promises by Roberta Kray
Dead Past by Beverly Connor
Kingdom of Shadows by Alan Furst
La naranja mecánica by Anthony Burgess
Denied by Marissa Farrar
The Mulligan by Terri Tiffany
Earthquake Weather by Tim Powers