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  “I can give you exactly what you want,” I said soothingly, as I traced his jaw line with my right index finger. “I can bring Cecile back. I can give you more power than you could ever imagine, we can live forever, but you need to follow my rules.”

  I knew that he wouldn’t ever really follow my rules, but that didn’t matter, I had ways and means of keeping him under control. I dosed him with more of the Power Oil and reminded myself I had to find a stronger and more effective solution to keeping him under my domination. A trick would get the job done.

  “Yes,” he muttered faintly. “Yes. I want it all and more, much, much more.”

  “Excellent,” I whispered. “Now go. Go before they see you here. No one can know you were involved, especially not your cousin.”

  “I won’t leave her,” he said groggily, as his eyelids started to close.

  He was so stubborn, worse than Cecile, but I wasn’t going to let that deter me. I took off his shoe and used it as a shovel to claw away at the earth directly under Cecile’s feet. Afterwards, I plucked out a strand of Edmond’s hair, covered it in Power oil, and threw it into the little hole I had dug along with his shoe. Burying someone’s shoe along with a strand of their hair, and some Power Oil was a simple but very effective trick that could be used to make sure the person would run and not look back until you called upon them. He nodded, rose, and kissed Cecile’s bloody feet before stumbling into the darkness of the forest.

  “Adieu for now, dear sister,” I said, as I rose and from the ground and straightened out my wrinkled cotton dress. There was work to be done.

  Chapter Two

  She Wouldn’t…

  Darkwood Plantation, New Orleans, 1853

  After the Death of Cecile LaNuit

  Wasting no time I sprinted towards the main house. The once gloomy night had evaporated and the world seemed as if it had reawakened after a long, dreary slumber. The stars twinkled lazily above, while the moon cast light on the tiny raindrops that had landed on the oak leaves, making them appear as if they were adorned by thousands of tiny diamonds. A warm wind from the nearby river brought with it the first hint of the long, sticky summer that was just around the corner. My weary feet unwillingly kept getting caught in clumps of blue passion vines and wild wisteria that grew in a never ending competition with one another.

  It was one of those magical, romantic storybook nights that Louisiana was famous for. A night where beautiful, young princesses were searching for their Prince Charming in one extravagant New Orleans ballroom or another. This was the type of night I had heard Madame LaNuit tell Cecile about countless times right before tucking her in for the night. Oh yes, I had heard countless stories about nights such as these all the while I had been down on my knees scrubbing the floor, cleaning up after dinner, or ironing Cecile’s luxurious dresses.

  Funny how things seemed to work out. Now I was the one running to meet Prince Charming, and Cecile… Well, Cecile had gotten what she deserved. Now, Prince Charming was about to get what he deserved: death. I had to get rid of Lucus for once and for all. But, how? How had he survived the brutal attack, and most important of all: what trick would I need to send him to the other side?

  From a distance the main house appeared as if it was carefully handcrafted out of fine ivory. The evening rain had scrubbed everything clean and had left a deceptive air of serenity around the entire estate. I glanced up at Lucus’ window and saw the outlines of several slaves. They wouldn’t be a problem to take care of now that I was a free woman of color, they were officially below me.

  I straightened out my dress, smoothed out my brown curls, and erased the smirk off my face. I had to play a new role until I found out how to get rid of Lucus. A role that I knew Lucus would be unable to resist: the damsel in distress. It was a part that I knew required a certain measure of weakness, so for a moment I practiced widening my blue eyes and fluttering my lashes like I had seen Cecile do so many times. After practicing tossing my head from side to side coyly for a few minutes, I climbed up the side of the house using the sturdy clumps of vines as support and positioned myself on the edge of Lucus’ window. The strong scent of licorice root, spider webs, and Spanish moss from the Confusion Oil wafted through the slightly ajar lace curtains and reminded me that I still had the upper hand.

  Thankfully, several of the candles I had lit earlier were still blazing fiercely, so I had a clear view if the scenario. The flames cast soft, ghostly shadows on the concerned house slaves that uneasily danced around Lucus. With their heads bent together they spoke in hushed whispers as they argued as to how they would calm their master.

  As I peered through the curtains I could see Lucus as he feverishly stumbled from one end of the spacious room to the other. His dark hair fell into his eyes and his naked torso was covered with unsightly gash marks from the beating that idiot slave Louis had given him. Despite being bruised, bloody, and clearly in pain he was determined to find Cecile.

  “Where is she? Where is she?” he asked, as he wildly clutched a fist full of air thinking it was the door handle. He spun around and around as he grabbed one object after another. One by one crystal bottles full of expensive liquor were smashed, heavy silver candlesticks were thrown across the room, and leather bound books flew off of the shelves.

  “Monsieur, you’re not well. You must lay down,” pleaded one of the slaves. His deep voice trembled in genuine concern as he clutched his wrinkled hands.

  “Non! Non! Non!” Lucus screamed in desperation. “That letter wasn’t written by her! It couldn’t have been! She wouldn’t!”

  “Monsieur please.” Another house slave tried to reason with him unsuccessfully as she nervously tugged on her brown tignon. “This madness won’t bring her back. In time, you’ll forget all about her. There are so many beautiful girls in New Orleans and the Madame is planning on holding a ball.”

  “Non!” There was no reasoning with him.

  As he continued to hurl objects, my gaze fell onto his wrist. Protective gris-gris. Of course. I knew that tiny red signature gris-gris bag with the delicately woven wristband. Cecile had protected him. How had she known that his life would be in danger? She couldn’t have known, it had just been her paranoid nature. It didn’t matter. I knew I would be able to get rid of him once and for all. I was ready to leap through the window and use one of my many tricks on him when a voice stopped me.

  “Non, non, non. I asked for Cecile. Bring me, Cecile. He won’t die until she comes back. I want her dead and gone.” His voice drifted through the oak trees and trickled into my ears.

  I frantically glanced around, hoping that I would catch a glimpse of him, even though I knew he wouldn’t show himself to me on demand. “No, you’re wrong. I haven’t failed you. I swear, she won’t come back. I’ll kill him and then she’ll never come back.”

  “You foolish child. Who are you to question me? Never question me. If you want all that was promised to you do as I say and do it now. Do it with blind obedience. Do it without conscious and above all, do it without fear.”

  “But if Lucus won’t die until Cecile comes back, what am I to do? How can I bring her back? Can you bring her back?” My once calm façade quickly melted in his presence and I started to panic. A million questions and scenarios swerved inside my head.

  “No, I cannot bring her back to this side. She has some of the loa on her side. I know she’ll come back when she’s ready. When that is I’m not certain, but I know she will come back and I can’t have that.”

  “Then what should I do? Please tell me. I’ll do anything. Anything to serve you.”

  “Anything?”

  “Oui.” I forced back the lump of uncertainty that had started to build up at the back of my throat.

  “Then lean in a little closer and listen to my words, and listen to them carefully.”

  I leaned in a little closer as he began to speak.

  “Since you cannot kill him you must… make him tell you his secret… Their secret… Their secret
is the key to your future.”

  He went on and on as he laid out his new plans for me. What secret had Cecile and Lucus been hiding and how was I supposed to use it to my advantage?

  I nodded and took in his words. His plans were now my plans. I had to find out their secret and I had to use it. I needed to have patience and above all, a certain measure of ruthlessness.

  “Yes. Yes. I’ll do exactly that,” I said excited that he had given me a second chance to prove that I was worthy. It didn’t matter how long this plan would take to unfold and fulfill I was going to make it work. I had to make it work. “Merci,” I said.

  “Don’t fail me this time. I may be merciful, but I have my limits and my patience with you is wearing thin. Oui, very thin.” His voice was low and scratchy as it rustled through the oak leaves.

  “I won’t disappoint you.” I promised him once again.

  “Then go and make me proud,” he whispered. The leaves stopped moving and I knew that he was no longer near.

  Quietly, I slipped into the room. My shadow merged with those of the slaves, but they were still oblivious to my presence. “Monsieur,” I said finally, after watching him smash another porcelain oriental vase. Who knew he had such a dramatic streak.

  All eyes turned to me. The slaves immediately surrounded me, clearly thinking that I was one of them. “What are you doing in the master’s room?” One of them asked making the mistake of thinking I was a filthy field hand.

  Lucus turned towards me and blinked a few times as if he had just come back from a far away dreamland.

  “Emilie?” Light flooded his eyes and immediately his face became warm and soft as if he had just devoured a bottle of rich red wine.

  “Oui, Monsieur,” I said, as I lowered my lashes and bowed my head ever so slightly.

  “Oh, Emilie. Emilie. Emilie,” he repeated my name as if it was the sweetest word he’d ever heard.

  I felt his arms around me as he crushed me into his chest practically squeezing the oxygen out of my lungs and smashing my fragile bones.

  “Monsieur!” Both of the slaves cried as if they were terribly scandalized by his actions.

  “Please leave us,” he ordered.

  “You’re not well, Monsieur,” the slaves pleaded. “You need to rest. You need to get better. You need to come back to us.”

  “Now,” he said, as he gave them an authoritative look that spoke louder than words could have.

  The slaves bowed their heads and hesitantly made their exit all the while letting out low murmurs of disapproval.

  “Emilie,” he said, once again turning his attention to me. He brushed aside the wet strands of hair that clung to my forehead and looked deep into my eyes. For a mere second his warmth was overwhelming and I wanted him to hold me. Maybe even dance with me the way I had seen him dance with Cecile. I allowed him to hold me and for a few seconds it seemed as if the entire world had vanished and all that remained was us clinging to one another as if nothing else mattered. A Nightingale sweetly hummed in the background and I suppressed the smile that was bubbling on the tip of my lips. Maybe I would let him hold me for just a tiny while longer.

  Unfortunately, my fairy tale came to an abrupt end when he released me and opened his mouth. “I knew she wouldn’t leave. I knew Cecile was still here,” he said, as he searched my eyes with childlike excitement. “I knew you two must have simply taken a walk or perhaps you may have gotten lost. Yes, that’s it, isn’t it? You two were taking an evening stroll and got caught in the horrific rain. She’s in the bath, isn’t she?” He smiled and let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been worried for nothing.” He let out a deep laugh and spun around on his heels and headed towards the door. “I feel alive again. Alive!”

  The mere thought that Cecile hadn’t left and was simply taking a bath had left Lucus invigorated. I had to put a stop to that and I was going to have fun while I did it.

  “Non, Monsieur. That’s not what happened,” I said, as I dramatically fluttered my eyelashes and forced myself to shed tears that weren’t really there.

  Lucus stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. His smile wavered slightly, but his eyes were still hopeful. "Emilie.” His voice softened, as he brushed away my tears with the tips of his fingers. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter now. You’re safe. Cecile is safe.”

  I shed more tears and gasped as if I were reaching for my last breath. “She left,” I blurted out. “She’s gone, Monsieur. She… She told me that she couldn’t live a lie. She wanted to be free and staying here… Staying here would rob her of that freedom.”

  I shed more tears as I turned my back on him and gazed out of the French window. To avoid breaking out in laughter, I focused my attention on a bright green cricket that had decided to rest its little body on the edge of the window ledge. It happily chirped away without a care in the world and I had the sudden urge to crush its tiny body to death. Its sweet singing made me realize that words, or to be more specific, sweet words along with the loa would be my most useful weapons. So I started my heartfelt little speech all the while I squeezed the life out of the cricket, for luck, of course.

  “I wanted her to stay. I pleaded with her and reminded her of how much you loved her, but she was deaf to my pleas. There was no reasoning with her. She’s a fool for not seeing how wonderful you are, Monsieur. Although she is my sister, I find her actions shameful. You don’t deserve this. You’re good and kind and you gave her no reason to leave. What she has done is incredibly cruel and selfish. She wronged us both, Monsieur. She wouldn’t allow me to go with her. She abandoned me. I’m an orphan once again, Monsieur. I’m lost, oh Lord I’m so lost. I don’t know where I belong or where I should go. I have no one to turn to. Cecile promised to take care of me, but now all that is left are broken promises and a fearful future.” I stopped to catch my breath and mentally praised myself for my dramatic abilities. After all, didn’t all great leaders have a dramatic side to them?

  “Non, Emilie. You must have heard wrong. She must have gone to the city to visit one of her clients or maybe to the French market to buy pralines. You know Cecile and her spontaneous moods. That’s one of the things I love most about her, she always keeps me guessing. With Cecile I know life will always be a beautiful mystery. An enigmatic symphony of some sorts. There is no one that captures my heart in the way she does. She’s beautiful, of course, but her beauty is much more than simply superficial. It comes from within. From the very depths of her soul. I never want her to feel trapped. Ever. I want… ”

  I held in my disgust as he marveled at how wonderful Cecile was. It wasn’t long before I cut him off and crushed his annoying enthusiasm. “Non, Monsieur. I know what I heard. She was very adamant in her decision. She doesn’t feel the same way about you. She told me herself. She thinks you’re weak, predictable, and rather dull.”

  “Non! You speak lies!” There was a drastic shift in Lucus’ tone and I sensed that his lunacy and desperation had returned. He grabbed me by my shoulders and forced me to look at him. His face was a mask of its former self. The warmth in his eyes had vanished and his skin was pale and ghostly even under the warm yellow glow of the candles. My words had gotten under his skin. It made me proud that even with all his wealth and privilege Lucus LaPlante could be shaken so easily.

  “I’m so sorry, Monsieur,” I whispered, as I turned on the tears again and averted my eyes from his distrustful gaze.

  “She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. I know she wouldn’t. We had plans…” He abruptly stopped speaking as if he had just revealed a deep, treacherous secret. He let go of me and stumbled backwards and focused his gaze on the high ceiling as if the mere sight of me repulsed him. “Get out,” he said calmly. “The mere sight of you repulses me. I see her in you. The way you purse your lips and the shape of your face! Get out now before I call the guards on you!”

  “Monsieur, please. I know you’re good, and kind, and as I said before, I have nowhere to go. Surely, you’re not going to ta
ke your anger out on me. You can’t send me away, please I beg of you. I’m sorry that my sister has caused you so much pain, but please have mercy on me. ”

  I inched towards him and forced more tears to slide down my cheeks. He had let it slip. The secret. I needed to find out what type of plans he and Cecile had been hiding. What did he know? And how could I use it to my advantage?

  “Go!” he screamed. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling.

  “Non, please, Monsieur. Don’t make me go out there alone. You know all of the horrors I’ve suffered. I know you’re not cruel. Whatever plans you had with Cecile, you can share them with me. I’ll listen. I’m a good listener. Maybe you don’t have anyone to talk to…”

  He took his eyes off of the ceiling and his expression softened as it rested on me. When he finally spoke his tone was defeated and exhausted. “Please forgive me,” he said. “I’m never this rude. I don’t know what has come over me. Of course you can stay. This is your home now. I never take back my word. Stay as long as you want and need. You’re safe here. Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I can’t bear the thought of any more hardship in your life. ”

  “Merci! Merci!” I wrapped my arms around him. It was an action that startled him. “Monsieur, these plans you speak of what were they? What did my sister promise you? Whatever it was, maybe I can somehow make up for it.”

  He gently peeled me off of him and picked up an unbroken bottle of absinthe from the floor. “It doesn’t matter now. Emilie, you are in no way a replacement for Cecile. None of this matters anymore. Adieu, Cecile. I know how much you adored absinthe,” he said, as he took a generous swig of the bright green liquid.

  So he wasn’t going to betray Cecile even after her supposed betrayal. He was even more foolish than I had given him credit for. And wasn’t I good enough to be a replacement for Cecile? Wasn’t I good enough to laugh with and share secrets with? My right hand started trembling uncontrollably and I slowly slipped it into the sack that was attached to my hip. If he wasn’t going to tell me what the big secret was, I would have to coax it out of him.