6. Mean-Mug
Chapter six
Mean-Mug
Kazimir
The journey from the airport to Delphine’s property was nothing short of breathtaking.
I found myself in the back of our SUV, drinking the vibrant landscape of New Orleans.
The city was alive and breathing beneath the sultry Louisiana sun.
Outside my tinted window, a symphony of colors and sounds. Jazz notes floated from the corners, blending with the chatter of locals and the ever-enthusiastic tourists. Whimsical architecture greeted my eyes. I guessed it was a unique blend of Spanish, French, and American styles.
When we entered the French Quarter, Paolo climbed onto my lap. With his little finger, he pointed at things rushing by the window.
It shocked me to no end how comfortable Paolo was getting with me.
He turned my way and switched to Italian. “Where are we, lion?”
My heart warmed at his calling me lion. “We are in New Orleans?”
He batted those lashes as if trying to figure out in his head where that would be. “New. . .Orland?”
“New Orleans.”
He turned back to the window and swept his curious gaze over everything. “New Orleans.”
You’re just like your father was at your age. Always so curious and excited.
We continued down the narrow streets. Wrought-iron balconies teemed with a wild mix of greenery. Colorful buildings—most of them two and three stories high—stood at odd angles.
It must have been crazy for Paolo to leave the snowy streets of Moscow and arrive here. I was sure he had never seen anything like it.
Paolo tapped at the window. “Pretty.”
“Very pretty.”
“I want.”
“You want to see it?”
Paolo bobbed his head. “Yes.”
“When I have time, I will take you around.”
Paolo’s face brightened with excitement, and I swore my soul lit up too. I made a mental note to make sure Paolo and I spent time out in New Orleans together.
Pavel. . .can you see this?
The SUV purred smoothly along the asphalt, leaving the echoes of the city behind.
Then, gradually, the urban scenery gave way to the outskirts.
Even more intrigued, Paolo leaned his head toward the window. His gaze darted here and there.
How far is Delphine from the city?
We crossed over onto a big highway.
She must be out in the swamps.
The scenery shifted dramatically. Fields of sugar cane, green and gold in the midday sun, reached out as far as the eye could see.
We passed small, weathered houses, some adorned with crawfish nets and rusty bikes. This was certainly a much slower-paced way of life than our day-to-day in Moscow.
And how is my mouse and son?
I turned to the love of my life. Emilio slept in her arms with his mouth open. Although passed out, he nuzzled against her breasts as if still yearning for the comfort of her milk.
Sorry, son. You have your wet nurses. That milk is now mine.
I placed my view on her face.
Worry decorated every inch. She seemed to be looking out at the landscape rushing by us, yet I had been around her long enough to know that her mind was somewhere else.
Dread sparked at my core.
Loving her had shown me that in many ways I was powerless. Right now, I yearned to kill the problem keeping her mind scattered.
But it wasn’t a man or thing that I could physically destroy.
It was inside of her.
It was pain.
Her trauma.
And as much as I wanted to take it all from Emily myself, she would have to be the one to truly get rid of it.
Will this help her?
Suddenly, the SUV pulled onto a narrow, gravel road.
On one side of the road a deep, green sea stretched out before us. It was a mess of moss-caked cypress trees and mud.
“Ooo.” Paolo tapped the window. “Ocean.”
I turned back to him. “No. That is a swamp.”
He blinked. “Swamp.”
Tall cypress trees adorned with drapes of Spanish moss stood like stoic guardians of this mysterious wilderness.
We must be close.
Terror washed through me.
I considered what Jean-Pierre had told me about Delphine.
Apparently, she was born into a long line of voodoo practitioners. When she was a kid, she was taken from her mother and raised by her grandmother.
Something about a kid dying in her class.
Once her grandmother passed, Delphine inherited her grandmother’s house and began providing voodoo services to many. Over time, her reputation grew, and she was now the most sought-after figure in the New Orleans criminal underworld.
In fact, he had added that many nicknamed Delphine the Bayou Banshee . However, people didn’t say that to her face.
I frowned.
That nickname triggered a shiver.
Jean-Pierre’s words sounded in my head.
“People claim that she has extraordinary power, and one of those things is to create haunting, otherworldly sounds that can disorient and strike fear into the hearts of her enemies.”
But, how much of that was bullshit?
I hoped bringing my family here was the right thing to do. Yet, this talk of voodoo and other world power shoved me on edge.
I dealt in the world of guns, death, and explosions.
That was my reality.
Of course, I knew that our reality held more things beyond what I could see. It was why I always consulted Baba.
Any logical person could admit that magic was melded within nature. Every day, the sun rose and set in a show of colors and light. Was that not magic?
The Earth rotated, and we all simply accepted it as reality, not supernatural. But, the deep-thinkers knew that our very reality was all supernatural.
Flowers bloomed.
Caterpillars metamorphosed into butterflies.
All magical.
Was the moon not a supernatural being?
Or even our flying in the plane to get here, a clear example of magic.
Sure, scientists attached grand words like gravity, biology, and physics to explain such things, but in the end, there was still that out-of-this world component.
Who created gravity and put it here?
What was before physics and biology?
What was before us and this planet?
Even if I turned to Christianity, there were certainly accounts of supernatural events.
Jesus performed many miracles—turning water into wine, walking on water, healing the sick, and resurrecting the dead.
These events were described as miracles—acts of divine intervention—rather than magic.
However, one could argue that the distinction between a miracle and magic was largely a matter of perspective and interpretation.
In fact, if we took a step back and redefined what magic truly meant, we all might find that it permeated our daily lives more than we ever imagined.
Can magic occur with my mouse?
I looked back at Emily.
Her face was still blank, her eyes staring out into the swamp.
Tension gathered in my shoulders. “ Mysh ?”
She blinked and looked at me. “Yes, baby.”
I smiled at her use of baby . “What do you need from me? Say it. Anything.”
“You’re already giving me what I need, Kaz. You brought me here.”
“But is that enough?”
“I hope so.” She swallowed. “I’m not sure what Delphine has planned for me or how she can heal me, so. . .we’ll see.”
“Baba talked about my needing to get items to help you.”
“How do you feel about that?”
A fiery determination blazed in my chest. “Whatever you need, I will get.”
“But. . .it was something about the way Baba said it.”
I tilted my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Why can’t other people get the stuff? It seemed like you had to be the person to do it.”
“If it needs to be me, then I’m fine with that.”
“I don’t like the idea of your being away from me getting shit.”
“ Mysh , you are the rhythm that makes my heartbeat, the song that soothes my soul.”
A warm smile spread across her face. “Kaz, don’t make me cry.”
“I would move mountains for you if need be or at least blow them up. If I have to get something for you to heal, I will do it.”
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too.”
The SUV slowed down its speed.
Paolo shrieked. “Big Lizards, mysh !”
Emily and I snapped our view that way.
Outside of the window, two alligators lazily sunned themselves on a muddy bank.
Emily chuckled. “Those are alligators, baby.”
Paolo widened his eyes and glanced at her. “Nice?”
“No, baby. I wouldn’t say that they are nice. Very bad lizards.”
“Oh no.” Paolo turned back to the window.
I returned my attention to my mouse. “If you get scared or uncomfortable and want to leave for any reason, tell me. We will get out of here. Do you understand?”
“Kaz, I’m not leaving until Lunita is gone.”
Pressure built in my chest.
And then we turned down a rocky dirt path.
Paolo giggled. “House, mysh .”
I checked what he was looking at.
An old Victorian house painted in yellow with white trim loomed ahead. Two large bay windows decorated the front. A massive porch wrapped around the front of the house.
And on that porch, several Black men stood, holding machetes and guns. Each man was built like a fortress—tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, and imposing.
They glared at our approaching vehicles with fierce unblinking eyes.
I spoke through clenched teeth, “We should not have brought the kids.”
“We didn’t come here to fight, Kaz.”
“I do not like the way they are looking at us.”
“They don’t know us like that. It’s fair game when you are riding onto Black people’s property. It is what it is. You’re going to get mean-mugged.”
I snapped my view to her. “Mean-mugged?”
She grinned. “It’s a slang term for when people are staring at you in an aggressive way.”
“I will need to explain to them that the Lion does not like to be mean-mugged.”
“Relax.” She raised Emilio and kissed his forehead. “This is just an initial visit for all of us to feel each other out.”
“I have been on my best behavior, mysh .”
“Kaz, you would have slapped Rafael, if you wasn’t holding Emilio.”
Surely, my hand had burned to connect with the side of that idiot’s face. And little did my mouse know, after his pitiful roars, I made it a personal goal to slap the Comedienne before we left New Orleans.
The SUV came to a stop in front of the house.
As if hearing me, she shook her head. “In fact, I’m giving you Emilio now to keep your hands busy.”
Paolo climbed off my lap and got closer to my mouse.
I took Emilio from her arms. He stirred a little and then let out an exasperated sigh, returning back to slumber.
Up ahead, SUV doors opened in unison. My men stepped out.
To my shock, more Black men appeared from the woods lining the house. Each one gripped a weapon.
I tensed. “What is this?”
My mouse put her hand on my arm.
I gritted my teeth. “Next time, we do not bring the kids.”
She frowned. “I agree.”
Rafael left his car and headed forward.
The Black men on the porch spotted him and shook their heads. I didn’t think any of them liked the Comedienne at all.
For that reason, these men made me immediately like them.
Max got out of his SUV. Tisha and Lemon exited the same SUV and followed him.
Instead of heading to the house, Max came over to our SUV and opened the door.
We turned to him.
Max gave us a sad smile. “So, I forgot to tell you that they had a limited white man policy.”
“A what?”
“Only three white men can go inside her house.” Max gazed over his shoulder. “And the way dudes are yelling at Rafael, I think we may even have too many white men on the property. Shit may get heated.”
I was about to speak, but the house’s front door opened.
Everyone went silent.
A small woman emerged wearing a floor-length black dress. She was no more than 4’10, and her steps were gentle as she advanced forward.
In one hand, she grasped onto a cane that was adorned with various gems up its wooden side. The gems sparkled in the sunlight.
Her long gray hair was tied up in two braids that stopped at her waist.
All the men on the porch gave her a wide berth.
The men—that had rushed out of the woods—put up their guns and edged back.
This is Delphine.
Rafael never went up the stairs. Instead, he stayed right there and placed his hands behind him.
From the porch, the woman looked down at Rafael and nodded.
He turned and gestured to our SUV.
I guess it is time to meet the Bayou Banshee.
Slowly, I left the vehicle, holding Emilio in my arms.
My mouse took Paolo’s hand. Together, they got out of the car.
A warm smile spread across Delphine’s face while she watched us exit.
Everyone remained silent.
Delphine’s eyes softened as she looked at Emily and Paolo.
To my shock, Paolo pointed at her. “Woman, mysh .”
Emily kept her voice low. “Uh yes. She is a woman, baby.”
Paolo tapped his head. “In my dreams.”
“What?” Emily blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Dreams.” Paolo smiled.
Delphine’s gaze went to me and then lingered for a moment on Emilio as he slept peacefully in my arms.
Then, this loud movement sounded behind us.
A car door slammed.
Who is that?
I looked behind me.
Baba slowly walked over.
Suddenly, the space went thick with an unsaid challenge.
For some reason, I checked Delphine’s face. The warm smile she had earlier, instantly vanished.
Huh?
I turned back to Baba. A stern expression covered her face.
This is weird.
I kept looking back and forth at Delphine and then Baba. I could have sworn that both women were engaged in a silent, mental conversation. Each glance, each subtle shift of their expressions, was a message, a whisper in the wind that only they could hear.
Next, Baba stopped and stood next to me. “Please, give me my little one.”
I whispered, “What is going on, Baba?”
“Nothing, Kazimir. Just give me that little one.”
I did as she said.
In that moment, I realized Delphine was making her way towards us.
My nerves flared.
All of the men on the porch exchanged nervous glances.
With the cane, she took her time and passed Rafael like he wasn’t even there.
Rocking my sleeping son, Baba remained at my side.
“Welcome, Emily and Kazimir.” Delphine called out in a voice that was surprisingly strong for her size. “It’s been a long time coming.”
Emily nodded. “Thank you for having us.”
Delphine’s gaze rested on Paolo. “You want to see my garden, boy.”
Baba loudly spoke, setting me even more on edge. “Paolo will remain with me while you take the Lion and Mouse in the garden.”
Delphine stopped walking forward and stared at her. She didn’t look pleased at all.
What the hell is going on?
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread as I watched the silent interaction between Baba and Delphine. It was clear that something deeper was happening beyond our knowledge.
Delphine sneered. “You hid yourself on the way here, but I saw you.”
Quirking my brows, I turned to Baba trying to get some clue of what was going on.
Baba’s stern expression didn’t shift. “Your focus is on healing Emily, not getting close to Paolo.”
An edge laced Delphine’s voice. “This boy will have something to do with my kin. It is my right to make sure he is on the best path.”
“He has more than one path to choose.” Baba got closer to Paolo. “Regardless, when he does choose the path, it will be a time when the both of us are deep in the ground.”
“Do not speak for me. The only thing we are sure of is that you will be buried before me.”
One of the men snickered from the porch.
I glared at him.
“Behave, Kazimir.” Still holding Emilio, Baba took Paolo’s hand and led him away.
Frowning, Delphine watched them head off to another SUV.
Paolo glanced over his shoulder and waved goodbye to Delphine.
I looked back at her. “Have you been talking to him?”
Delphine studied me with pure amusement. “Now how would I do that, Lion? That boy doesn’t have a phone.”
All of the men on the porch laughed.
It took everything in me to not roar. The way she spoke seemed to be mocking me in some way, but I couldn’t point to how.
Emily took my hand and squeezed it.
Delphine moved her gaze to Max and gave him a wide smile. “Welcome back, grandnephew.”
He stirred. “Yeah. Hey.”
“Now all the commotion is done.” Delphine motioned for us to follow. “Let me show you my garden.”