Chapter 8
Xavier’s question hit Lissette square in the gut. She’d asked herself that question a hundred times since she’d almost killed the town’s favorite sheriff’s deputy.
“That’s one question I choose not to answer at this moment,” she said through tight lips.
He nodded. “Fair enough. You don’t have to.” Xavier started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, heading into the center of town. “Mamba Wamba?”
“Yes, please,” she said, her voice tight, her gaze on the road ahead. Of all the questions he could have asked, why that one?
When he parked the truck in front of Gisele’s shop, Lissette jumped down before he shut off the engine.
She dug in her purse for her keys and opened the front door of the shop. The sun was well on its way down, casting long shadows from the surrounding buildings.
Reaching inside the door, she switched on the light, earning a squawk from Johnny, the macaw, in his cage in the middle of the shop.
You break it, you buy it, asshole, Johnny said.
“Hey, Johnny,” Lissette called as she entered the shop and crossed to where Johnny stood on his perch inside his cage. “Are you hungry?”
Bring me a beer, woman, Johnny responded.
Lissette chuckled. “I’ve a good mind to do that. It might make you less of a dick.”
“I doubt even a beer would help,” Xavier said from the doorway.
“Has he bitten you?”
Xavier stared down at his finger. “Twice.”
Lissette grinned. “Didn’t learn the first time, huh?”
Xavier’s lips twitched. “I guess I thought it was like lightning and wouldn’t strike twice. He drew blood both times.”
Cheeky bastard, Johnny said.
“Good boy,” she cooed at the bird and winked at Xavier. She dug the bird food out of the cabinet, opened the cage and reached for his feed bowl.
Xavier hurried forward. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll bite you?”
“Not at all,” Lissette said. “He likes being fed.”
“When I tried to give him a treat, he attacked me.”
“That’s because he prefers women and hates all men. I think his previous owner, a male, wasn’t all that kind to him.”
Johnny flapped his wings at Xavier and screeched.
Xavier stepped backward, staying out of range of the bird’s sharp beak.
“Seems like a bird like that would be a liability to a shop owner,” Xavier said, his gaze wary the entire time Lissette left the cage door open.
“There’s a sign, big as day.” She pointed to the sign at the base of the cage, written in bold letters.
THIS BIRD BITES
OFFER FINGERS
AT YOUR OWN RISK
“That wasn’t there when I first met Johnny,” Xavier said, rubbing his scarred fingers.
“I think she posted it after he took a chunk out of you.”
He’s a keeper, Johnny said, his head bobbing as Lissette fitted his food bowl back into the side of the cage.
Lissette’s cheeks heated. She hoped Xavier hadn’t understood Johnny’s words.
“Do you think he’s referring to me?” Xavier asked.
“If he is,” Lissette quipped, “who should keep you? Me or Johnny?” She glanced up at him, not realizing just how close he’d moved.
Her breath caught in her throat. She had to tip her head way back to stare up into his eyes.
“I’m not Johnny’s type.” Xavier stared down into her eyes.
Butterflies fluttered in her belly, and an aching need bloomed at her core. “Who is your type?” she whispered.
He slid his hand behind her neck and tipped her head back. “I’m beginning to think…you.”
She swallowed hard, willing away the insanely intense feeling rushing through her system like a flash of lightning, spreading its fingers and igniting a chain reaction of sensations throughout her body.
No. This couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let this happen. “I’m damaged. Unlovable.”
“Something we have in common,” he said, his head tipping lower, his lips close. Really close.
She could feel the warmth of his breath against her mouth.
“Xavier,” she spoke when all she wanted to do was feel.
“Yes,” he said, his tone rumbling, skimming across her skin, sinking deep inside her.
“I’m no good for you,” she whispered. “I’ll ruin your reputation.”
“I’m leaving in six days,” he said. “I’m not looking for commitment, and I sure as hell don’t give a damn what other people think. All I want right now is to kiss you.” His breath warmed her lips. “Just one kiss.”
Like a moth drawn to a flame, Lissette couldn’t resist the light, the heat...the kiss. She leaned into him, her lips barely brushing his.
“Hello,” a female voice called out from the doorway.
Lissette stepped back so quickly, she bumped into Johnny’s cage. It rocked violently and would have fallen over if Xavier’s reflexes weren’t as sharp as they were.
He encircled her waist with one hand, grabbed the cage with the other and steadied her and the cage.
Johnny squawked, flapped his wings and cried, You break it, you buy it, asshole.
As soon as her feet were firmly under her, Lissette stepped out of Xavier’s arms, painted a smile on her face and turned toward the woman standing in the doorway. “The store is closed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
The woman, middle-aged with a warm smile and medium brown hair, stepped inside anyway. “Are you sure? I need a gift for my niece’s birthday party. It’s tomorrow, and I don’t have time to drive all the way to New Orleans. I won’t take long. Promise.” She gave Lissette a wide-eyed, pleading look.
Lissette glanced at the clock on the wall. “Five minutes, tops. I have places I need to be before the sun goes down.”
The woman clapped. “On it.” She hurried to the nearest shelf of Voodoo souvenirs and lifted a small doll with a pin in it.
“My niece loves everything Voodoo. I got her a book about it for her last birthday, much to her mother’s horror.
” She grinned at Lissette and held up the doll.
“Think her mother will lose it if I get her one of these?”
Lissette shrugged. “Probably. Your niece might decide to use it to punish her mother.”
“All things Voodoo are fascinating,” she said as she moved from a display of tarot card decks to stacks of miniature coffins.
She lifted one of the coffins, opened the door, studied the skeleton inside and closed it.
“Oh, this might be just the thing to add to her collection of Voodoo curios.” She hurried over to the counter where Lissette was stowing the bird food.
“I’ll get this and that black spiked collar. She’ll love it.”
“Do you want me to wrap it?” Lissette asked, praying the woman would say no.
“Oh, would you?” the woman cried and reached out to touch Lissette’s arm. “That would be so nice. And if you have a card you can attach to it, put from Aunt Odette on it. You’re such a dear.”
Lissette froze under the woman’s hand. She was, perhaps, the first person in Bayou Mambaloa who’d touched her besides her cousin and grandmother. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Actually, I’m from Thibodaux,” she said. “I heard the cemetery here was vandalized and came to check it out. We had something similar happen in Thibodaux recently.” She shook her head. “Such a shame. Whoever did it took all the reliquaries from family tombs. Our town is up in arms and afraid.”
“Why are they afraid?” Xavier asked.
Odette turned toward Xavier, dropping her hand from Lissette’s arm. “From what my niece told me, the reliquaries provide protection to the family. They’re afraid they’ll be vulnerable to bad things happening.” She touched a finger to her chin, frowning. “What did she call it?”
“Bad juju?” Lissette offered.
“Right.” Odette shot a warm smile at Lissette. “If they ever get them back, how will they know which reliquary belongs to which tomb?”
“Most of the boxes or containers are very distinct, wither wooden, brass or a combination of both. They might have images of saints or symbols carved or painted on the surfaces.” Lissette cut a piece of wrapping paper from the roll and laid the miniature coffin in the middle.
“Wha kinds of symbols?” Odette asked. “Like a pentagram?”
“Those are for witches,” Lissette said. “Voodoo reliquaries often have geometric patterns, a moon or a star, maybe a symbol resembling the sun.” Lissette held up the coffin. “Others carve coffins to protect the spiritual integrity of those who came before and are yet to come.”
“What does a triangle mean?” Odette asked.
“It’s the symbol of divine power.” Lissette laid the coffin back on the wrapping paper and made quick work of neatly folding it around the gift.
“Divine power, huh?” Odette tipped her head to one side, her brow wrinkling. “What if the triangle covers the tip of a sword?”
Lissette glanced up. “Like a sword with the triangular tip of an arrow?”
Odette shrugged. “I suppose.”
“Why?” Lissette asked, her body tensing.
“I saw such a symbol somewhere and wondered what it was.”
So had Lissette. She’d seen it on her own arm and had assumed it was an indication her spell had worked. Now, she wondered if it meant more. If she wanted to know more, she’d have to confess to her grandmother that she’d performed a spell without her permission and knowledge.
“I think I saw it in the Voodoo book I gave my niece last year,” Odette said, her lips twisting. “What do you suppose it means?”
Lissette taped the wrapping paper in place and grabbed a small gift card.
She tied it to the gift with the black ribboned choker and wrote neatly inside the card from Aunt Odette.
While she completed wrapping the gift, she thought through the lesson Madame Gautier had been teaching her and her cousins for the past couple of months.
Before Gisele and Holly had left for their respective trips, their grandmother had gone through different symbols used to define specific spirits and their protective boundaries.
Lissette held out the beautifully wrapped present. “The triangle means divine power; the sword represents the Iwa, or spirit, of warfare or justice.”
“Interesting. Such a symbol sounds important.” Odette opened her wallet and extracted enough money to pay for the gifts. “Thank you so much for staying open for a teenager’s birthday gift and for the lesson on Voodoo. I’ll be sure to pass it on to my niece.”