After the attack on Ben and the delivered invitations from the Council, the priestesses and priests contacted agreed to meet with the Coterie; they were afraid. It was clear. If they weren't, they would want nothing to do with us.
I got up that morning and began to get ready. The events of last night took a heavy toll on me, causing me to get no sleep. My eyes were heavy and my nose was beginning to bruise, but I tried to ignore it as I got dressed in jeans and a tank top. The only ones who were dressed in white were the mambos of the Coterie. Everyone else, even the hounsis, were dressed in casual wear.
I walked into the living room of Aza's house where the meeting was to
** That skill I had learned to use was coming back into full circle - the skill of silence. The skill of quietly planning. When Sajida had left, my mind was buzzing frantically. There was a lot she knew that Mama wouldn't allow her to tell me. The only way I was going to find out any of this information was if I went to the Bayou of the Shunned to speak with her privately. But I would never tell this idea of mine to the Coterie. So, I remained silent. The Coterie looked to Mama for clarification on what just happened; on what Sajida just said. Mambo Nene, Mama's trusted advisor and the one who always comes to her defense, stepped forward and wore a look that expressed loss and confusion. "What Sajida talking 'bout, Alize?" Mambo Nene asked. "Nothing. She's crazy. Y'all know this already." "She mentioned tempus summatum," Ava Claudette said. "That same word that was mentioned last night." "Does Lisa really travel
** "You must be hungry." This is what I said - the words that sparked the fire. The catalyst for our fallout. Simple words that managed to anger him. I walked over to Aza's vanity and used my old cotton shirt to dry my hair in the mirror. "When's the last time you've fed?" I asked him. I heard him growl from behind me. "Lisa," he said. "This ain't funny." "I never said it was. I was just making an observation. Your vampiric powers strengthen the longer you don't feed, which is why you're so easily annoyed and angered with me right now." "I'm always annoyed with you. You're a pain in the ass."
** Hezekiah's mouth met mine, and I responded with the same urgency. We kissed deeply, almost like we couldn't get enough of each other. His hand moved from my neck up onto my head, keeping it still. My hands gripped the back of his neck as I pushed my tongue into his mouth. It was frantic, both of us eager to taste every inch of each other again. Hezekiah then pushed me onto the bed and positioned himself in front of me on his knees, staring at me and adjusting his eyes down my naked flesh. My nipples were hard, legs quivering for what was coming next. He grabbed my foot, lifted it so the sole rested on his solid chest, spreading my thighs in the process. He caressed my leg gently before he began to trail kisses, staring at my ankle, and almost making it to my calf until I nudged him. He stopped, looked at me with impatient eyes,
** I was scared to open the door. I had my hand on the handle for a very long time, stress sweating, unable to bring myself to open it and walk into the hallway. I had to face Aza; there was no other option. But what would I say? Would I apologize? Eventually, I mustered up the courage to open the door, but the person standing on the other side startled me; Aza. I expected her to be downstairs at the head of the dinner table, trying to rid her brain of what she saw, but frankly, she was more inclined to meet with me face to face instead of waiting until dinner was over. We met each other's eyes in an awkward fashion. I knew the image of Hezekiah fucking me from behind butt naked was burned into her memory. She looked uncomfortable, leaning against the hallway wall with her arms
** My hands were firm on the steering wheel as Mikael and I journeyed through the darkened road. It had been one hour of us in the car, the city turning into country and the road transitioning into dirt and moist earth beneath my car's wheels. We kept conversation minimal the first hour because we were both nervous. Mikael, however, was more anxious than I was. He had never been to the Bayou of the Shunned, but like everyone else, had heard tales about the cursed swamp and the witch that ruled over it as its Supreme Sorceress. Sajida was the bedtime story mambos and houngans told their kids about to keep them in line; in the black community, Sajida was "that" woman that the children of voodooists were scared to encounter when the lights went out - Similar toLa Lloronain Mexican folklore, a tale told to children to frighten them. Only Sajida wasn't a legend like&
** "Sorry about that there dock. Been meaning to get that thing fixed for ages." Mikael and I were inside Sajida's treehouse, following Sajida through the hall. Our steps were slow and gracious; careful. I was still shaken up by the shadows in the water. I thought that they were going to seep through the walls or come up the ladder. The door was closed now, but I couldn't get the image of them out of my mind, and I couldn't get the way they said my name out of my head, either. There was a yearning in their voices. It sounded almost like a cry for help. This haunted me the most. Not that they were animated shadows, but they sounded desperate and hopeless as they held onto me. I wanted to ask Sajida about them. Not only was she familiar with these shadows, but this was her bayou - she controlled everyone and everything here.
** "Are you crazy?!" Mikael was furious. And he did have every right to be. I had asked Sajida the Shunned to perform a lave tet upon me, while also agreeing to spend the night at her treehouse. It was an impulsive decision, but I was so desperate for answers that I was willing to do anything. I didn't know how to respond to him. The reality of the situation finally kicked in the moment Sajida left the study and went downstairs. The Damiyas continued lightly clawing at my ankle, staring up at me but of course, unable to say anything. "It's the only way, Mikael." I said to him. "Sajida's willing to give me the answers I need. She's theonlyone that's willing to do this."
I stared at Marie Laveau for a very long time. It was the only thing I could think to do, because words failed me. The most well-known voodoo practitioner of our time; everyone in New Orleans knew her name. Anyone who practiced voodoo knew who she was. There were books written about her. Movies and television programs made about her. People worshiped her, visiting her grave every day in the hundreds to leave offerings in the hopes that she would bless them in return. Marie Laveau was an incredible woman, having left her mark in history. And not only was she my ancestor—not only did we share the same blood—but she was my djab; this woman chose me to follow in her afterlife. She chose me to guide. Marie Laveau chose me. Accounts of her physical appearance varied often; there weren't a