Darkness Becomes Her

“Thanks, but all I really want is to have this curse lifted, and Josephine knows how to do it. Then I’m out of this nightmare. No offense.”

He scratched his chin. “You must be careful of Josephine.”

“I know. I’ve been warned. But she knew my mother, and she knows how to help me.”

He stilled and began staring at me hard, his mind working, taking in my information, processing, giving me the willies because whatever conclusion he was coming to did not look good. He swore under his breath. “Eleni’s daughter.”

A rush of cold went through my stomach.

“No wonder you’re wanted.”

I didn’t ask by whom. Josephine. Athena. Suddenly I didn’t want to know. I just wanted to be fixed. Maybe once my curse was gone, neither one of them would care so much about me anymore.

He reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “This is for your own good.”

I tensed. Right before the ground dropped out from beneath me and my vision went black.

Images — disjointed, random — filled my mind. The prison. Violet in her mask. Pascal’s milky white nose, mouth agape, teeth showing, staring so close. Mother in front of a mirror, tears streaking down her face, hands shaking as she tried to dig imaginary snakes from her scalp. The harpy and her great wings, flapping, hitting glass and chirping with a chorus of other birds. Sunlight. Clean-smelling sheets.

Clean sheets?

My eyes popped open. Birds moved and fluttered and chirped in the vines that crawled up the side of one window. I rubbed my eyes, wiping the filmy tears that came with my yawn. My face felt old and heavy, my body wooden and tired, but as I moved and stretched and snuggled into the soft down mattress, I began to feel like my old self. The blades of the ceiling fan went slowly around, caressing me with a gentle breeze.

It didn’t take long to see that I was in a ground-floor bedroom, with a view of a garden courtyard, similar to the one at Jean Solomon’s house on Dumaine Street. Someone had dressed me in a white tank and a pair of white drawstring pajama pants. My feet were bare. I got off the bed and crossed over the hard-wood floor to a set of French doors, opening them to a beautiful winter sunset in the French Quarter. The air was cool, but the sun had warmed the brick pavers so they emanated heat.

I’d slept the entire day, from dawn to sunset — spending all night breaking out of “goddess prison” and trudging through the swamp and back to civilization can do that to a girl.

No locks on the doors. No prison. Just put into a soft bed by Michel. Michel, who knew about my mother. Who, probably, knew all about my curse.

Beyond the tall brick walls, the clip-clop of hooves on the street and the creak of carriage wheels caught my attention. Muffled voices drifted through the courtyard tunnel. My hand squeezed the door frame. God, I wished my mother was still here, that we’d had more time together. That she could see me now, to see what I’d grown into.

I began to see why my mother had chosen to live in this place. It was full of beauty, not only seen, but felt and heard and tasted. I drew in one more cleansing breath, trying to quell the tightening in my chest before going back into the bedroom.

A neatly folded pile of clothes had been placed on the dresser. Not my own. I figured those had been ruined beyond washing. A pair of jeans. Stretchy black T-shirt. My black boots had been cleaned, and there were new socks and underwear, too. My backpack sat on the floor next to the dresser. After a quick search, I was relieved to find it hadn’t been opened. My gun, of course, was gone. That had been taken by the ????? hunter, but the blade was there, and that was all that mattered; the blade was way more lethal than the gun.

In the en suite bathroom, I took a quick shower, washing my dirty hair twice and thinking of how I’d gotten here, what I’d do now, and how in the hell I was going to make Michel tell me everything he knew. I squeezed the water from my hair, wondering why Athena wanted me, and if it was she who had cursed my family to begin with. But why would a goddess curse us to die at twenty-one? Why make us have unchangeable hair like this and eyes the color of a neon sea? If anything, it attracted attention, something Michel had said Athena hated. So why?

I dried off, made use of the toiletries that had been set on the vanity, and then dressed in the new clothes. Under the sink I found a hair dryer.

My hair was still damp by the time I gave up and began braiding the large pile into something more manageable and less eye-catching. Once done, I left the room feeling energized, swinging my backpack over my shoulder and going in search of something to eat. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.

Ah, yes I could. Beignets with Sebastian.

The house was enormous and filled with ancient artifacts and antiques. The lair of a warlock, for sure. On the second floor, I passed through a double parlor. Voices drifted from a set of tall wooden doors. I hid behind a large urn as a servant carried out a tray, bringing with her voices that carried my name. After the maid passed, I peeked around the urn and got a glimpse of a massive library. Checking for anyone else, I eased up, stuck out my toe, and let the door come to rest slightly ajar.

“It’s too dangerous to keep her here, Michel. You know this. Athena will bring the full force of her power against us.”

“Rowen is right. You saw what harboring Eleni cost us and this entire city. Those hurricanes nearly destroyed everything.”

“But together we had the power to protect us. Together we are strong,” Michel said. “And together we will be strong enough to shelter this child.”

“Not while she carries the curse,” another voice said. “Even without Athena, that child is a danger to us and everyone in this city. No power can stop what she can do once she matures.”

“She has not come into her curse. She is no harm to us now. If we help her get rid of the curse,” Michel proposed, “she will be of no use to Athena and no harm to us.”

“Help her get rid of it?” This from Josephine. “Do you realize what an asset this girl can be to us? Think of the power we will have. Power over the gods. We can be rid of them forever.”

A bang issued as something was slammed against wood. Michel’s voice was harsh. “Listen to you, Josephine! This was what got us into trouble the first time. Had you not tried to use Eleni, we might not even be in this situation now. And now you will use her child? For power?”

“For protection,” she snapped. “Athena has been an enemy to us since the Inquisition, when she tried to wipe all of us off the face of the planet. She is afraid, afraid of us becoming too powerful, afraid of her own creations coming back to defeat her. We keep the child and let her become what she was meant to be. Then Athena, or any god for that matter, will not dare challenge us.”

“What do you suggest? Imprisoning her? No. I forbid this.”

Josephine laughed. “You cannot forbid anything, Michel. This is a council. And majority rules.”

“I am not comfortable using a child in this manner, but we cannot sustain another blow to the city like the one thirteen years ago,” said a new voice. “We have had peace in New 2, a peace we have been seeking for ages. Harboring or helping this child will cause a war between us and Athena. I say she goes, takes her chances outside The Rim.”

“No, she cannot go,” Michel said. “Think about it, Nickolai. She can’t hide from Athena. That girl doesn’t even know what she’s capable of. Once the goddess has her, she can and will use that child against us. She must stay, but not as a weapon. As a child needing protection.”

My throat went dry. My heart raced. I leaned back against the wall. Blood pounded through my ears so fast that I couldn’t hear any more of the conversation even if I’d tried.

I didn’t know what to do, so I ran.

Out into the street, directly in front of a trotting horse pulling a carriage full of tourists. So close its warm breath fanned my cheek before I stumbled to the other side of the street.

I stopped at the corner, grabbing one of the streetlamp poles for support and gasping for air. Tears pricked my eyes but didn’t spill over. I wanted to go back, to storm into that library and tell them they were all wrong. I was not a weapon. I didn’t have powers like the Novem or the doue.

I’d make the decision for them. I’d leave New 2. If Athena had caused the hurricanes because the Novem had