“What?”
Solaris sighed. She hated to bring this up. “The people of the island are very superstitious. You know that. If we don’t go ahead with the ceremony, and economically the island does poorly, they’ll say it’s retribution, that the spirits are angry for not being honored. Anything that goes wrong in the coming year will be blamed on the fact that we didn’t conduct the yearly ritual.”
Tobias raised his voice in anger. “I don’t care what the people think or don’t think. We’re talking about my daughter’s life!”
Bo spoke up. “We’re not living in the old times. The townspeople will understand.”
Solaris rose from her seat, hands on hips. “You think so? I’ve been getting phone calls already. Sam Johansson is claiming his apples aren’t doing as well as last season. His reason? We cut the Nights of the Parades down to a week. And he’s not the only one. Sue Graver’s corn has come down with some disease. You want the list?”
Bo’s shocked expression conveyed he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He let out a low growl as he raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “Corn and apples,” he muttered.
“What’s more important, Solaris, Raven or some bushels of apples and corn?” Tobias snapped.
Solaris shot an angry gaze at the ancient Lamai. “Of course Raven is more important! There’s something else. I think maybe…” She sat back in her seat, suddenly exhausted.
“What?” Tobias prodded.
“It’s just a very strong feeling I have. You’re not going to like what I have to say, either one of you.”
Tobias prodded her to confess what she knew, but was obviously uncomfortable sharing. “If it has to do with Raven, tell us.”
Bo voice was strained. “Please, tell us.”
She leaned forward, folding her hands neatly on the desktop. “Laroque might use the ceremony to get your attention.”
Tobias turned away from her. “Sol, I do not want Raven used as bait. I’m going out to look for her. Maybe Rhia knows where she is.”
Solaris stood. “Rhia is an ancient Lamai with severe dementia. She won’t be of any help.” She walked around to the front of her desk.
Tobias’s grey eyes shone brightly, and he shook his head in dismay. “I expected more from you. You’re like an aunt to Raven. At the very least a little understanding would be nice.”
“That’s unfair, Tobias.”
“If that’s what you think of Rhia, then she has done her job well,” Tobias said with a sigh. “That’s what she wants people to think, that she is a feeble, old deity with little sense and even less influence on our lives than we give her credit for.”
“Tobias, she is your deity, not mine,” Solaris griped.
The evening sun was setting. The only reason Raven was able to tell was that the room was plunging into darkness. She hadn’t seen Philippe all day. The Lamai, Mick, brought her breakfast and lunch. Dinner was yet to be served.
She asked repeatedly where Philippe was, but the Lamai refused to answer.
“Come on, Mick, you know me. I’ve seen you every night at Blood Pool. We were buds,” she said sarcastically.
For a big man, Mick was soft-spoken. “Mr. Laroque will see you when he’s ready.” He handed her clean clothes-a cotton shirt, a package of underwear and jeans. “Sorry, Mr. Laroque didn’t know your bra size.”
She grimaced as she tore open the package. “How thoughtful of him. Can I at least get cleaned up?”
He pointed to a washcloth and a bowl of soapy water next to her bed.
She held up the panties, frowning. They looked more like granny bloomers. They would have to do. “Then can you tell me…is he still on the island?”
Mick walked out without answering.
“I have to pee,” she yelled before the door closed.
His voice boomed out from down the hall. “Don’t wet the bed!”
“Damn,” she swore as the door slammed.
At some point during the night, the winds picked up. The slamming of the shutters woke Raven from her restless sleep. The sheer curtains billowed inside and became soaked with rain. Despite Raven’s newly humanized sense of smell, she could still identify the bougainvillea, jasmine and plumeria that scented the air.
Lightning lit the night sky, and thunder rumbled. She heard waves roil in the distance. Her legs were still cuffed to the bed, so she couldn’t move, couldn’t go to the window for a look or to climb out.
She deduced from the bouquet surrounding her that she was somewhere in the south. Jamaica, perhaps, or Haiti. Except Laroque was smarter than that. Everyone would think to look for her in New Orleans or Haiti first.
Lying in bed, she stared at the ceiling. Light poured in from the hall as her door opened. It was Laroque. He went to the window and closed the shutters.
He was quiet for a long while, staring off into space. “I suppose you figured we’re in the middle of a tropical storm,” he finally said. “It may turn into a hurricane during the night, if you are to believe the weather forecasters.”
“Yes, it being October and all. Hurricane season’s a bitch.” Raven motioned with her head toward the packages of undergarments and jeans. “I’m a 36 D bra by the way. And tell Mick thanks for the bedpan.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced at the nightstand. There sat an empty bedpan. “Are you hungry? I was sleeping, and I assumed you weren’t fed.” He pulled a chair from the darkened corner and sat.
“I’m not hungry, no. My feet hurt,” Raven said as she reached for her ankles and tried to rub beneath the straps that were digging into her flesh. She stole quick glances at the man across the room as she fidgeted.
What a time to become mortal. She thought about Bo and wondered where he was.
Laroque’s complexion was drab, and half circles bulged underneath his tired eyes. He seemed to sway in the seat.
“You’ll try to escape if I let you go,” he said between ragged breaths.
Raven leaned against the headboard. “You really don’t look well. Do you have any medical supplies here?”
He looked at her and opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He reached into his pocket and tossed her the keys to the cuffs on her ankles.
“The Lamai have strict orders if you try to escape. Just try, and they will turn you…and you will die.”
Raven had no doubt he would keep his word. She unlocked the cuffs and massaged her feet. Normally the marks would heal within seconds of appearing. This was the new normal, and she wasn’t used to it. She wasn’t used to hunger pangs and she certainly wasn’t used to the thought of dying.
She supposed, in hindsight, that was how she was able to do her job. Death was something that happened to others.
“I have a vaccine that seems to be working on the Lamai. Mick is the longest-running success story. The other two Lamai and the shifters have also been inoculated. I’m afraid I haven’t got one that will work on humans.” He rocked back and forth, almost falling off the chair.
Raven stood and steadied herself. “Supplies. Where are they?”
Laroque wheezed. “Downstairs. Masks, gowns, oxygen, quarantine tent…”
He was visibly weak, barely able to hold himself up on the seat, let alone speak. “Raven, I loved your mother more than life itself. I know she never loved me the way she loved your father, but she did love me, and that was enough. I would take whatever she wanted to give. Jade…is my whole world. You are sisters…”
Her hands fisted at her side, she suddenly lost her self-control. “You almost killed the only man I will ever love! Am I supposed to forgive you?”
He shook his head. “No…of course not. I promised Jade I wouldn’t hurt you. We all do things we wouldn’t normally do for love-or hate. Your father couldn’t live with the fact that Nicki gave herself to me. He did the unthinkable…” He could hardly catch his breath now.