“You think you can fare better than you did when we last met?” He asks. “Come out here and show me your strength. Then let me show you why you never should have crossed me.”
I hand the phone back to Luna and march toward the front door, a chorus of complaints my company. No one wants me to confront the bokor. Not Grandma, Mom, Luna, James, or Jeanna. But when Miri grabs my arm, her intense stare causes me pause.
I stop and return her gaze. “What?” I blurt.
“Don’t be foolish, Belle,” she says. “I see his power; it is thick and explosive all around him. And that is not a fight you can win.”
“You see his power… with your third eye?” She nods. “And I am not strong enough to win?” She nods again. “But you could? Win, I mean.”
She blinks. Looks away, over the group, then back to me. “I… I gave up magick.” Her forehead presses with wrinkles.
“A combination of strength and power?” Luna steps to my side.
I grab her hand in way of an answer. Within seconds, James and Jeanna are at our side, extending our chain and adding their might to that of mine and Luna’s.
“If you don’t come out, I’ll be forced to come in,” The bokor yells from the front of the house, his voice carrying considerable volume despite the rain. “My lesson to give is one you must learn.”
Thunder cracks and the house slams into darkness once more, the light cutting out. The fireplace and few remaining candles take up the chore of illuminating our surroundings. Grandma and Mom step forward and add their strength to our line. The house shudders, groans. The bokor and his men advance a step.
Miri peers from the scene outside to our gathered group and back. With a sigh, she steps into our joint power-line, pushing between me and Jeanna. Miri’s hand in mine is warm and electrified with inherent power waiting to be unleashed.
“The house is protected,” Grandma says. “They can’t come in here. We’re safe.”
“Yeah, but what about when we have to go home?” James asks.
“And what about my mom?” Luna adds.
The room chills and the smell of sulfur rises around us. At my side, Luna shivers. Across the room, Bastian’s hair stands on end and he hisses. Glares at us.
At my other side, Miri’s hand turns to ice within my hold. “If the man is not dealt with, he will continue to come at us,” she says. “He will come until we are undone.”
“What are you suggesting?” I resist the urge to drop her hand and warm my palm against my pant leg.
“Eleanora?” Grandma shifts and stares down our connected line to Miri. Miri shoots her a sideways glance. “You cannot have my granddaughter, Eleanora. She has denied you.”
Eleanora? What is going on here? I stare at my sister, then glance over my grandma, blink to my mom. Mom appears more confused than I feel. I think of Miri’s ice-cold hand in mine. Is Miri possessed? Possessed by the ancestor she told me was trying to take over her life a few years ago?
“She has let me in,” my sister says, talking of herself in the third person. “She understands that you need me and my power, if you want to stop the bokor from harassing you and destroying your Mirabelle.” She spares me a quick glance and I gasp.
“No.” Grandma stomps her cane, her response getting lost in another rumble of the house.
“Shall I come in and get you?” The bokor calls from outside. “Or should I simply allow Mrs. Flores to slit her throat?”
“The death would surely be a waste,” Miri yells back. “But, I’m rather comfortable here. We’re in the midst of a celebration. Why don’t you join us?”
Goosebumps explode, covering my arms, and I recall the bokor tossing Michael across the room, knocking him into the wall and unconscious, jumps to the front of my mind. The bokor is a monster, but this ancestor controlling my sister, what of her? What kind of evil does she bring?
“Get them,” the bokor hollers, and his men dash forward.
Miri’s grip on me tightens, turns to ice. Flashes of memories flicker through my mind and they are not of my choosing. It is as if Miri… or the ancestor possessing Miri… is flipping through the recesses of my mind. The flashes pause on an image of me and Luna on a bike, racing away from the bokor’s men, landing on my grandma’s front lawn.
The bokor’s henchmen pound on the front door.
James squeals in a bleeding-ear pitch.
The front door bursts open. The bokor stands at the threshold.
“I thought you said…” Mom yells.
“No one unwanted may enter,” Miri says, completing Mom’s sentence.
Everything topples in on itself. My vision folds, and the house vanishes.
I tumble, knees and elbow, into the mud. Rain pelts against my skin like thousands upon thousands of tiny pebbles.
“What happened?” Luna yells, pushing her sodden hair from her face.
Our entire group, including the bokor and his men, have been relocated. We’re no longer standing within the comfort of the family home, but rather, scattered amongst the graves of one of New Orleans’ cemeteries. Everyone has been pitched to the ground. Everyone except for Miri, who stands tall and steady in the center of our chaotic fall.
“How in all of creation did we get here?” Mom says, pushing to a stand.
“Borrowed the idea from Mirabelle,” my possessed sister says. “Thought I would bring the fight to a location where my power is at its strongest.
Strongest? I glance around the surrounding graves and recall the time Miri exploded a grave and hit me with the stone. It was here, in this cemetery, the day after the fire. Miri must have been drawn here by the ancestral power back then.
All these years,
