Rebelled, an Arelia LaRue Novel #7 Page 4

  Her eyes narrowed, and suddenly she appeared vastly ugly. Her lips twisted and brows knotted in anger. “I’m a queen, a true queen. I have to answer to no one, and I have more than enough wealth to make my train. I own an entire fleet of warships,” she said proudly. “I have no need to board any train and no one can judge me.”

  For the first time, I wasn’t distracted by her enchanting voice. Her words were full of vanity and pride. She wasn’t as beautiful as everyone was deceived to believe. A loud laugh escaped my lips despite my very dangerous situation. “Destruction of the soul is vanity,” I said softly. I wasn’t afraid of her anymore. I gave others way too much credit. It was time to take my power back. “You can't buy yourself out of this mess. Sadly, no one can.”

  Her face contorted further. I delighted in the fact that my words could shake her so much. “I’m giving you the easy way out. You can say yes, or I can make your life much more complicated than it already is.” Her true colors were coming out, and so were her intentions.

  “I’m not bowing down to you. I am not giving up my position to serve as your pet in this place.”

  A collective gasp escaped from the group that was intently watching our little drama unfold. “Your Majesty. Do you want me to get rid of her?” asked a very scandalized Thomaz. I guess no one ever had the guts to reject and challenge La Sirene all within the span of five minutes.

  I shot him a dirty look. “You’re on the wrong side,” I said to him.

  La Sirene simply laughed at my sudden surge in courage. “Oh, but don’t you know that you are destined to be a whore?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” My cheeks turned hot as I thought of my time as Cecile.

  “I’m only pointing out an observation that you cleverly made. Time is cyclical and not linear. History will repeat itself and when it does you’ll be right back where you started. Nothing but a whore.”

  I controlled the urge to slap her. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of such a cliché reaction. “First, stop using that word. This isn’t Game of Thrones. Secondly, I’ve somewhat gotten over my Cecile self-esteem never good enough issues. Your words, bitter and cruel as they are, do not have the power to hurt me.”

  “Oh, I’m not speaking of your experience as Cecile…” Her voice was cryptic and her eyes full of delight. She was taking pleasure in torturing me. Suddenly, she was the ugliest spirit I had ever seen even uglier than nasty Sousson Pannan.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “Stay,” she said firmly ignoring my question. “Stay and the fate that is inevitable can be avoided. I will protect you.”

  “The last thing I need is another protector. Besides, I have already made up my mind. I can’t stay with you because I don’t love you,” I said simply. “And I doubt that you love me too. What you’re trying to do is distract me and stop me with shiny trinkets. Plus as much as I love melons and sweet white cakes, I really cannot survive an eternity without buttermilk drops and good old-fashioned gumbo. It’s too big of a sacrifice to make. Plus on top of all these very good reasons, I don’t want to be around when Met Agwe discovers your secret obsession with me.” I knew I was pushing her to her limits, but I didn’t care. I had nothing to lose. I didn’t want to live half a life anymore.

  Her eyes filled with fury, and they changed from sea green to dark gray. They looked like the ocean roaring during a nasty storm. “I’m going to ask you for the last time. Stay. I know who you love, and I will make sure that you will forget him,” she insisted.

  “No.” I was back to being my stubborn self. I was sure that this time I was making the right choice. “Like I said before, I refuse to bow down to you.”

  “You’re already dead to the world,” she said.

  “No. I’m not. I believe in miracles because Lord knows that I’ve seen my fair share of them.”

  She inched towards me. I held my breath and prepared for her fury to manifest. She twirled my hair. “You are pretty but vastly stupid for not wanting to stay safe.”

  “I beg to differ,” I said, as I slapped away her hand. I never wanted to be touched by her ever again. “I mean with the vastly stupid part. What is the point of staying out of the sun? Cowering in the shadows? Besides, you can’t protect me. I know the devil is a liar and a conjurer too. You better be careful because it looks like he’s conjured you already. He doesn’t care about you, and you’re deluded if you think he does. His strategy is to divide and conquer. Once he is done with the land above, do you think that he's going to leave your kingdom unharmed?”

  “Yes,” she said with confidence. “This is neutral land as I have already explained. It is a land that the devil or your Dieu can’t touch.”

  “You’re stupid for being so proud. It will be the cause of your downfall.”

  “You are stupid for loving who you do. He’s not worth it,” she insisted rather cryptically. I hated how she made everything sound so damn mysterious. She knew way more than she let on.

  “Only I can determine who I choose to love and not you.”

  “You really shouldn’t trust anyone, you know,” she warned.

  “And that includes you,” I said. It had been a long time since I had spoken with so much confidence and fire. I felt like my old self again. The world was once again full of endless possibilities and opportunities. I was rebelling against the very prison that had bound me into my self-destructive behavior. Suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks. La Sirene wanted me to willingly give up my powers. She wanted me to willingly stay here with her. That was the same thing He wanted me to do. He wanted me to willingly give up my powers. It wasn’t a mere coincidence. I knew exactly whose side this spirit was on. “I see through you,” I said.

  My confidence didn't impress her, and revenge came in the form of a kiss filled with venom and fire. “It’s much too late now,” she whispered. “You can’t get back now. This is an act of final mercy on my part. The mystery of inequity has been at work for centuries and centuries. Now, it is time for the Phoenix to rise from the ashes. The old order has passed away, and the new order is about to begin. Lawlessness is at work and will continue until He is revealed. Anarchy is engulfing the world, and the kingdom is being birthed as we speak. The beast is rising from the sea, and I will be the queen of the sea and the land above. He promised me so.”

  “No,” I whispered desperately. “Please Dieu, erase my name from the book of death.” My eyes closed and I felt my spirit fly to the other side. A side I was familiar with yet knew vastly different from the one I had left behind.

  Chapter Six

  Somewhere on the other side, Before Last Summer

  One Kiss Can Reset the Universe

  My eyes opened. I glanced at myself in the grimy mirror and was horrified by my frizzy hair; bloodshot eyes and skin. Shifting through empty cups of coffee, piles of dirty laundry, open books, and half-empty water bottles, I desperately tried to find a hairbrush, and some much-needed lip gloss. I hated how my olive skin turned a sickly shade of yellow whenever I worked overtime at Lola’s.

  After a few frantic strokes through my hair, I gave up and roughly tied it into a lopsided ponytail. “Why can’t you cooperate?” I muttered as I tried to straighten out the mess that rested on the top of my head. I glanced at my wrinkly gray tank top and worn-out jeans knowing that Sabrina would give her stamp of disapproval. I took a quick glance into my wardrobe and tried to hunt for a few more presentable pieces to stuff into my duffel bag. At the very back, there were expensive dresses that Tony, my ex, had given to me as presents. I should have burned them, but I had decided that when I had the time, I would give them to charity instead.

  “The devil takes many forms my child,” Grand-mere Bea's voice was barely above a whisper. “Speak his name, and he appears. I don’t understand why you have to go to Darkwood plantation.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes at her for the millionth time. “Money, grand-mere. We need money and lots of it. We’re in debt, and the c
ost of your heart medication isn't getting any cheaper. If I don’t save up for college now, I’ll never go, and this cycle we find ourselves in will go on forever. Plus, you know as well as I do that James isn’t going to have mercy on us anytime soon. If the devil does exist, I'm sure he's got much better things to worry about than tormenting us, so that's one less thing we have to worry about,” I teased.

  “This isn’t a joke, Arelia,” she warned, as she continued to fiddle with the beads that hung around her neck. Her dark leathery skin and gray streaked hair gave away her age. I knew that she wasn’t going to be around forever. I had to keep her healthy, as long as I possibly could. She was the only family I had aside from my best friend.

  I unwillingly sighed yet again. “You worry way too much. Didn’t the doctor tell you to relax and not to worry about the little things? I promise that I’ll be safe. These spirits and supernatural things that you’re always stressing over are nothing but a man-made invention.” I gave her a tight hug and felt her release an exhausted breath of frustration.

  Grand-mere Bea crossed herself. “You are never to joke about that, Arelia. The spirits are everywhere, and they hear everything, and so does the devil. He has an army.”

  If I heard another word about the spirits, I would scream and pull out all of my hair. Hell, I would offer myself as a living sacrifice just as long as I didn’t hear another word about the other side and those damn, tricky beings. Everyone in New Orleans went on speaking about them as if they were real leaving them rum bottles, cigars and even the occasional blood sacrifice or two. To me, the whole concept was so silly and surreal. Why on earth would anyone bother to be obsessed over the invisible, when there were so many tangible problems like taxes, sky-high health insurance costs, student debt, world hunger and greedy landlords? The list was endless. How in the world spirits had any control over this world was beyond me. However, grand-mere insisted that it was true.

  “Oh God, Arelia. What the hell? Where are your bags?” Sabrina’s expensive designer perfume and open disgust filled the room.

  I glanced at her perfectly manicured nails, shiny blowout, and wrinkle-free designer sundress and had the sudden urge to hide under the bed. I should have gotten over my inferiority complex, but when Sabrina was in the room all eyes automatically went to her. "It's right here." I held up my measly duffel bag. “We’re going to work, remember?” There was no shame in being poor. At least, I was willing to work my ass off to make sure that this wouldn’t be my permanent situation.

  Her blue eyes widened in dismay. “Do you know how wealthy the LaPlantes are? They come from French and Spanish nobility, Arelia. This is my chance at hitting the jackpot, and I would appreciate it if my best friend was a bit more supportive.”

  I shook my head. The girl had mad research skills. She probably had the LaPlante family tree traced back all the way to Genesis. “I’m positive all eyes will be on you, and the LaPlantes won’t even give the lowly help a second glance,” I said sarcastically. “Plus don’t all the rich families in New Orleans hail from nobility?”

  Sabrina let out a self-assured giggle. “You’re right. I mean, I’m probably over thinking the whole thing, plus if it doesn’t work out with the LaPlantes, there are hundreds of other families on my list,” she said with such confidence that I was about to help her shop for her wedding dress.

  I shook my head. “Let’s go. The last thing I want is to be late on our first day.”

  “We can’t go with you looking like something that crawled out of a swamp. Yours truly took the liberty of buying you a new dress,” she said, as she pulled a gorgeous sky blue sundress out of her Louis Vuitton carry-on. She tossed me the outfit.

  “Sabrina, you know I can’t accept this. I hate when you give me stuff for no reason. It makes me feel…” I wanted to say like a charity case, but the words wouldn't dare come out in front of grand-mere. The silky material of the dress felt so soft and inviting against my fingers. Suddenly, the cheap tank top I was wearing was unbelievably hot. I felt like a traitor.

  “Relax, Arelia; it's only Dior." She made it sound as if it had come from Wal-Mart. "You have exactly three seconds to put it on, and then I'll do something about that hair and those tragic under eye circles. No one should be seen in public looking like a damn raccoon."

  “But…” I hesitated, as I saw the distress on grand- mere's face. She never had enough extra dough to buy me fancy things, and when Sabrina splurged on me, it always made her feel inferior. She gave me a small smile as if telling me to go ahead and put on the damn thing.

  After Sabrina had worked her magic, my hair was no longer a bird’s nest but hung long and loose with a slight beachy wave. My skin was silky smooth and the picture of health and endless hours of sleep thanks to the expensive foundation, concealer, blush and a whole lot of other products that should have made me look like a clown. The only thing she didn’t force on my face were false eyelashes. Why was she getting me so dolled up? “Thank you, Sabrina,” I said, as I examined myself. “I hardly recognize myself.”

  “No big deal. Let’s get a move on it. We have to make a pit stop first.”

  “Pit stop?”

  She nodded cryptically.

  “We’ll see you soon grand-mere,” I said, as I gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

  “You girls promise to be safe,” she called after us. I could smell her worry, which stressed me out more. I wish that she could see that I was only doing this for us.

  “We will,” I said, as I closed the door behind us.

  We headed out to the parking lot and were greeted by a new, hot-pink convertible. “Look what mommy and daddy got me as a see you later present,” Sabrina grinned as she opened the car door. I couldn't help feeling jealous.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, as I tried to squish the envy that was forming in the pit of my stomach. It cost enough to pay for college and perhaps a kidney or two.

  “Thanks,” said Sabrina, as she got behind the wheel and applied yet another layer of gloss on her thin lips. “I need fillers,” she pouted, “and a new set of veneers. Bigger ones.”

  I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. At the ripe old age of sixteen, Sabrina was well on her way to looking like one of those Real Housewives of the Garden District. “So where is this mystery pit stop?” I asked as I took a deep whiff of the air. I loved summer in New Orleans more than any other season. Sure, it was humid, sticky and deathly hot but the intoxicating scent of magnolia blooms and jasmine drove me wild as did the sound of jazz as it lingered on and on into the long nights.

  Sabrina ignored my questions as we sped to the French Quarter which was simultaneously my favorite and most hated part of town. The Quarter with its Spanish, French and Creole architecture, epic cast iron balconies, and legends of ghosts, pirates and rich history was always buzzing with life. Year after year, writers, tourists, artists and movie stars flocked there for a quick vacation but ended up never leaving. I suppose if the spirits did exist, they loved to hang out here. There was just something about the place that made you forget what century it was and how crappy your life was. It was like a portal to a whole different dimension, a place where you had a bit of luck, magic, and love along with a whole lot of food that nourished the depths of your very soul.

  My throat got dry as she pulled up on Royale Street, and I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten to put on deodorant.

  “Why are we here?” I asked. I had vowed never to come to this street again unless it was under the cloak of night.

  “He’s been hitting up my phone, Arelia. You have to talk to him.” Her blue eyes were wide with concern and sincerity. “He's sorry and wants to make things right.”

  The dress, the hair, and the makeup all became less appealing now that I knew their real intent. It had been a mistake letting Sabrina know about my secret relationship with Tony Dreaux. I was still traumatized after the way he had treated me last summer. There was no way in hell, I would be able to waltz into his family’s five-star hote
l and look him in the eyes. “You’re insane. If you don’t drive us to Darkwood now, I’m taking the bus.”

  I crossed my arms and slouched further into my seat as we approached the looming hotel. Hotel Dreaux, the gorgeous fully restored 18th-century building with its cast iron lace balconies overlooking the mighty Mississippi, lush French courtyards with blooms of pink magnolias and white roses, enormous suites, sparkling swimming pools and mouthwatering restaurants was the darling of the French Quarter.

  Thanks to the success of this place, the Dreaux’s hotel empire was vast and had expanded globally. They had places in all the hotspots, including Paris, England, Dubai, Egypt as well as all major American cities. They were pretty much the cream of the crop when it came to New Orleans society and were in league with the Richards, who were real estate moguls. I was almost half certain that Sabrina had slept with Tony somewhere along the line, but I never had the guts to ask her.

  “He’s waiting at Antonio’s,” she said referencing one of the hotel’s restaurants.

  My cheeks flushed, and I had the urge to rip off the stupid dress and scrub my face clean of all of the crap that had been placed on it. I had no desire to come face to face with Mrs. Dreaux’s horse face and stiff blond helmet hair.

  “Sabrina. Turn this car around now,” I said through clenched teeth.

  "No," she insisted. "I can't let you let a guy like Tony slip through your fingers. He screwed up, but everyone deserves a second chance even an ass like him. And if you're worried about Mrs. Horse face and Mr. Gucci suit don't. They're in Paris opening their latest hotel."