He’d failed to protect her twice. He wasn’t going to fail her again. If that meant he broke down and called his grandmama, then he would. He owed her that at least.
Jayden eyed the phone. Finally, he picked it up and dialed.
His grandmama never answered on the first ring but appeared to be waiting for him this day.
“Bonjour,” she answered.
“Hey, Grandmama.”
“Hello, my Jayden.”
He took a deep breath. “I brought a friend the other day.”
“The white zombie,” she said expectantly.
“Her name is Adrienne,” he said, anger bubbling “You know what? This is a mistake.”
“La-tche chatte pousse avec temps. You are coming around. Do you wear your grandpapa’s gift?”
“Yes.”
“Good. She was not the white zombie I expected. I think her sister is the white zombie,” his grandmama said calmly, cheerfully.
“Her dead sister?”
“She’s no dead, Jayden.”
This is crazy. “Anyway, Grandmama, you said Adrienne was cursed. A girl at school put a curse on her. I need to know how to fix it.”
“The girl who curse you?”
“Probably.”
There was a pause. “You bring her here. I will fix it.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You cut off her ear last time she visited,” he reminded his grandmother. “I doubt she’ll be up for visiting again. Can you make … uh, something I can give her?”
“I have her hair, blood and flesh. I should be able to.”
“You kept her earlobe?”
“Of course.”
Jayden rubbed his face and bit his tongue to keep from shouting at the crazy old woman. What was he thinking, calling her about Adrienne?
“I’ll come out Sunday,” he forced himself to say in a measured tone.
“You know, Jay, you are the hundredth firstborn in our House.” She paused thoughtfully.
“And … what?” he prodded.
“You are not cursed and she is. Your pasts are linked, and so are your futures. Do you not see it?”
“I don’t want to know, Grandmama,” he said, at the end of his patience. “I didn’t want to call you and I don’t want to see you after what you did to her. But she … believes in this stuff, and that’s why I’m talking to you.”
“I understand, my prince,” she said in a hushed tone. “One day, I hope you will come to understand all that I’ve done.”
“Let’s get through this weekend first,” he said. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Very well, Jayden.”
“Okay, so I’ll call before I come up. Have a good weekend.” He hung up.
He felt like he needed a shower at the mere thought of going into his grandmama’s freakish shed. He didn’t even feel badly this time at the odd sorrow in her voice. He was done with his mama’s family after this weekend.
The reminder of why – and who – he was doing it for eased some of his revulsion.
Adrienne was too upset to talk to him today. Tara was right. He’d give her some space then find her tomorrow. After all, he knew where she worked. He’d drop by to check in on her.
Tara reappeared five minutes later, still wearing Adrienne’s clothing. She had a backpack slung over one shoulder and her makeup case in hand. She opened the door.
“It’ll take me forever to get ready!” she complained, dropping into the car. “Drive slow, Jay. People can’t see me without makeup.”
He snorted. She was pretty either way, but he was in no rush to get back to school. Not until he’d cooled off a little more.
Chapter Sixteen
Marie Toussaint stood at the sink in her kitchen, washing dishes while her daughter, Bess, dried. She heard her son speak from the direction of the front porch and stopped to listen, curious about who had come to visit.
“G’evenin’.” Tommy’s deep voice drifted into the house.
Assuming it was one of the grandkids who lived in the neighborhood, Marie checked the bowl on top of the counter near the door to the living room. It was always loaded with treats and the first place the kids went.
It was full, as usual.
“Who is it, Tommy?” Bess called.
“Damned if I know.”
The eldest of her kids, Bess tried to take care of everyone or bullied them to death trying. Marie watched her toss the towel she was using to dry dishes and storm out of the kitchen.
“Who did you bring me here?” Marie whispered to the spirits, looking up.
Candace.
Marie stilled in her movements. From what she knew, the mambos rarely left the city. If the House leader herself was seeking her out, it had to be about something important.
Drying her hands, Marie shuffled into the living room just as Bess opened the door for the graceful, gracious Candace.
“Madame Marie,” Candace said with a smile.
The cats came out of the woodwork when she entered, sensing her subtle, but powerful healing magic. The five of them surrounded her, nuzzling her legs.
“Welcome!” Marie said, grinning. “Shoo!” She waved the cats away and took Candace’s hand, anxious to take her to the magic-protected shed out back.
“Goodness, Marie, you need an AC unit in here,” Candace said.
“Oh don’t go there!” Bess snapped.
In her fury after Jayden brought the girl over, Marie had tossed the working AC out the window, breaking it into pieces when it fell. She’d been worried about the white zombie lacing it with black magic spells, only to discover she’d been wrong about the girl completely.
And now, she once again had no AC.
You coulda told me sooner, she addressed the spirits silently.
She led Candace out of the house and to her special place to perform rites then lit candles dressed with cascarilla powder and vanilla on the table where she did most of her spell work.
“I’ve never seen such a collection,” Candace said, admiring the bookshelf dedicated to thumb-sized vials of oils. “Marie, you must have everything.”
“I hope I do,” Marie said proudly.
“I brought you some tea.” Candace held out a small tin of loose leaf tea. “May I?” She motioned to a chair.
“Yes.” Marie waited for her to get comfortable, anxious to hear why the House leader was here.
“The girl I told you about,” Candace started. She tapped the table with her fingernails, gaze growing distant. “I spent the morning in meditation, communicating with my ancestors. Marie, I think she’s the chosen one you spoke of this past weekend.”
Marie listened intently. First, Jayden called to ask if he could visit for a voodoo-related reason, now this. It was an incredible bountiful day, in terms of good news.
“You said you knew who she was?” Candace asked. “You learned this week?”
Marie’s eyes went to a jar on one of her shelves. She pushed herself to her feet and crossed to it, returning with the jar in her hand.
Candace lifted it, peering at the small segment of an earlobe suspended in gel.
“I mistook her for the white zombie,” Marie explained. “She wasn’t no zombie. When I made a spell with her blood, I got a vision. She is the chosen.” She pointed to the flesh.
“Is this … Adrienne’s?” Candace asked. “This is what happened to her ear?”
Marie nodded.
Candace smiled and then chuckled. She set the jar down. “What a fortunate turn of events. Even if by accident, you are able to confirm what I felt was true.”
“The white zombie haunts her, as does the Red Man,” Marie said. “But I don’t know why. The spirits won’t tell me nothing more.”