Page 48 of Hooked on a Witch
As they passed close to her through the door, the smell of rum and cigars assaulted his nose. She’d been conjuring spirits today who’d probably foretold of their arrival. One step inside and his stomach lurched at the fetid odor of barn animals, putrefying blood, and incense. He stared at Lola’s eyes, violating his own rule. Yet, he pulled away before he became entranced by her cloudy, pale blue irises. The eyes were disconcerting next to her dark skin and Haitian heritage.
“You been communing with Papa Ghede today?” Merck infused calm into his voice.
Lola cackled. “You’s a smart one. Papa Ghede does love his rum. He be telling me abouts you and the lady, he did.”
Great. Just what he needed was the voodoo spirit of death to be talking about him. “Guess he’s looking forward to a meet-and-greet soon. He say anything useful to you?”
She laughed her shrill noise again. “He’s a fickle one, that Papa Ghede. I take everything he say to be only half true.”
Lola waved at her dining table, which she probably never used for meals, but only to invoke spirits and cast spells. “You two sit at the table. I made us tea.”
“Don’t drink,” he whispered to Shannon as they sat.
Her throat worked as she glanced at the table of rotting severed heads of dogs, snakes and lizards—fetishes used in spells ranging from the simplest libido enhancement to the darker rituals. Three skinny, hobbled roosters lay on the floor near the kitchen table ready to be used as sacrifices. On a side table an altar to a goddess was decorated in flashing Christmas lights, flowers, and mini liquor bottles.
He tried to convey reassurance with a small smile, but feared it came out stressed.
Lola placed a cup of tea in front of each of them and nudged at the sugar bowl in the center of the table suggestively. The tea smelled herbal with a splash of something extra that most likely helped push people into “the spirit.”
Lola rubbed her lower lip with her index finger as she stared at Shannon. The excitement in her eyes wasn’t good. “What brings you two all the way out here?”
“We’re searching for something.”
Her gaze snapped to Shannon. “You don’t think you have it? Many think you do. ’Course Papa Ghede told me you thought you didn’t. You want me to help you find it?”
Merck said, “I think we need to clarify whatitrefers to so we’re all on the same page.”
“Poseidon told Papa Ghede he’s very angry. He don’t like being angry with his son, ya know. But his son is helping the one who stole.” Lola clucked and shook her head. She rubbed her hands together. “Maybe I call on Papa Legba and see if he has anything to tell you about the staff of Poseidon.”
“Is he a more reliable spirit than Papa Ghede?” He distrusted all voodoo spirits. If they didn’t receive the perfect offering and proper veneration they were apt to lie to the conjurer.
“I have a price for asking.”
Of course she did. He gave her ago-ahead-and-name-your-pricenod.
“I want the scrying glass that she tried to buy off Harnish.”
“That’s not really your style, Lola.”
“It’s what I decided this be worth.”
“Don’t make me have to hunt you.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Not your business what I do with it. If I use it, then we be seeing who’s got better magic. If a friend uses it, I’ll warn her you be vistin’.” She crossed her arms. “It’s the price.”
He didn’t want to give up the dangerous piece. Shannon chewed on her lower lip and looked at him with a mixture of hope and apprehension.
He wasn’t going to win the argument of not giving it to Lola. If Shannon said please or shed a single tear, he’d do it.
Merck said, “Okay. You want it now or after?”
Lola waved her hand dismissively. “We’ll get around to it.”
She placed beans and rum in small dishes in the center of the table as offerings. Then, she began weaving from side to side, humming. Eventually, she broke into song:
“Legba, open the gates for me
So that I may go through.
