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  A Deal With Death

  Crescent City Wolf Pack Book Four

  Carrie Pulkinen

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Deal with Death

  COPYRIGHT © 2019 by Carrie Pulkinen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: www.CarriePulkinen.com

  Edited by Victoria Miller

  Cover Art by Victoria Miller

  First Edition, 2019

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  FREE Short Story

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Carrie Pulkinen

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  16 Years Ago

  Pissing off the Voodoo Spirit of death wasn’t in anyone’s best interest, but that’s exactly what Odette had done. When Baron Samedi visited her dreams last night, he’d made it clear what she had to do: free the soul fragments she’d helped her uncle trap and command the spirits to cross over.

  Sending the spirits to the other side would be easy; she’d been able to see and communicate with ghosts since she was little. Freeing them from their ouangas, the magical jars that contained them, would require the Baron’s assistance. She’d done the proper Voodoo rituals to allow the loa, the Ancestral Spirit, to cross to this realm. Now, all she could do was wait for her dad to take her to her weekly lesson with her uncle.

  She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling fan, following the path of a single blade as it revolved round and round until her stomach soured and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  How was she supposed to know her uncle had been lying to her about the souls? She was only twelve years old for Spirit’s sake, and the man was supposed to be her mentor. A bitter taste crept up the back of her throat, and she swallowed it down.

  With his looming presence, dark powers, and heavy hand, Odette had been terrified to cross the man, much less question his morals. Now she had to right the wrong she’d helped him commit.

  With a heavy sigh, she glanced at the clock and rolled out of bed. Jerking the earbuds from her ears, she shoved the iPod into her back pocket and closed her bedroom door before padding toward the living room. With any luck, Baron Samedi could make her uncle see the error of his ways, and he’d let his prisoners go willingly. Not that luck had ever been on her side.

  The irritation in her father’s voice as he shouted into the telephone slowed her pace, and she leaned against the wall in the hallway, peering around the corner, hesitating to enter the living room.

  “For the last time, Agnes, she’s fine with her uncle. She’d tell me if there was a problem.” Her dad let out an irritated grunt. “I don’t go to mass, but that doesn’t make me any less Catholic…”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, the gray strands of his curly salt-and-pepper hair glinting in the sunlight streaming in through the window. “I realize I’m no vodouisant, but I was married to one for ten years. Adelaide was your Mambo for Christ’s sake. If there’s one thing she taught me, it’s that Voodoo is a family legacy. Mathias is the only family Odette has on her mother’s side, and until she objects, he’ll be the one to train her.”

  Odette’s heart flopped in her chest like a fish in a flat-bottom boat. No one ever told her she had the option to object. Well, after today, she’d be done with her menacing uncle and his questionable magic. If she had the choice, she’d learn from a Mambo, a Voodoo priestess like her mom had been.

  She straightened her spine and strode into the living room as her dad ended the call. He started as he turned to her, a flash of guilt crossing his features before he pulled her into a hug. “How much of that did you hear?”

  Odette shrugged from his embrace. “Enough. Agnes wants me learning at the House.”

  “She was your mom’s best friend. She worries about you…and the trouble you’ve been getting into at school. She says children of Baron Samedi need extra guidance or the loa’s carefree ways can keep you from succeeding.”

  “Please, Dad. I’m fine.” Odette rolled her eyes. There was nothing wrong with having a little fun every now and then. “Can we go? I’ve got an important lesson with Uncle Mathias today.”

  “Oh yeah?” He grabbed his keys from a hook and ushered her out the door. “What’s he teaching you?”

  Odette waited until she climbed into the seat and buckled her seatbelt before she answered. “It’s a…role reversal today. I’m supposed to be the teacher, with Baron Samedi’s help, of course.”

  “Sounds like fun, sweet pea.” He mussed her hair, and she swatted his hand away.

  She stuffed her earbuds into her ears and cranked up her favorite Beyoncé album, tapping her thumb on her knee to the rhythm. Fifteen minutes into the drive to the swamp, her dad put a hand on her shoulder. She freed one ear and turned the volume down.

  “You’re okay with getting lessons from your uncle, right? I mean…your mom never mentioned much about him when she was alive, but he seemed thrilled to take you on as a student when I approached him.”

  She missed a beat in her reply. “Yeah. He’s fine.”

  Her dad nodded absently as he stared out the windshield. “He doesn’t practice any black magic or anything scary, right? Everything is on the up-and-up?”

  Odette swallowed and gazed out the window. Spanish moss draped from the cypress branches, giving the swamp a creepy horror movie vibe, and a blue heron swooped from a tree to catch a mouthful of bayou water and crawfish.

  She couldn’t lie to her father, but if he knew what she’d been tasked to do today, he’d turn the car around and take her straight home. Baron Samedi would never forgive her if she didn’t take care of this problem.

  Wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans, she turned to him. “I don’t know about everything, but like Mom always said… ‘There’s nothing wrong with a little gris-gris.’”

  Her dad glanced at her, smiling wistfully before focusing on the road. Bringing up her mom and all her words of wisdom was the best way to deflect any unwelcome conversation her dad tried to push on her. Guilt gnawed in her gut for manipulating him, but she couldn’t refuse Baron Samedi’s demands. She owed the loa her life, after all.

  After saying goodbye to her dad, she trudged through the front yard toward the rickety old house. White paint peeled from the wooden slats, and a porch wrapped around the entire structure from front to back. A garden overflowed with herbs, some edible, some poisonous, and she made a wide berth around it before heading up the stairs and around to the back door.

  With her hand on the knob, she paused and inhaled deeply, hoping the fresh air would untie the knot her insides had tangled into. The scents of mud and decaying foliage did nothing to calm her nerves. “I’m ready when you are, Baron. Please make it quick.”

  A heaviness formed in the air behind her, pressing onto her shoulders as the hum of living energy
gave way to the void of death. Baron Samedi was ready too.

  As she pushed the door open, a chime made of chicken bones rattled from above, and her uncle shuffled into the room, wiping something that looked a lot like blood from his hands. He kept what was left of his curly, black hair sheered short to the sides of his head, and the yellowish tinge of his bloodshot eyes reminded her of rotten eggs burrowing into his dark-brown, leathery skin.

  “’Bout time you got here.” The deep creases in his forehead turned to canyons as he frowned at her. “I need heron blood, and I had to send Emile out hunting for one instead of you. Come here.” He crooked his finger to call her close as he reached for the belt he kept wound on the shelf.

  “I’m not late, and even if I were, it’s not my fault. It’s not like I can drive myself.” She crossed her arms, refusing to budge.

  He folded the belt in half, gripping both ends and snapping it. “You listen to me, little one. Talking back’ll get you nothin’ but a bruised butt. You want that?”

  She uncrossed her arms and lowered her gaze. “No, sir.” She’d faced the wrath of her uncle and his belt enough times to know better now. This would all be over soon anyway. “Can I please see the ouangas?”

  His smile revealed three missing teeth. “Later, honey. I have a patient coming in who’s agreed to let me store a piece of his soul, so you’ll get to work your magic soon enough. Now go on out to the garden and fetch me some sage.”

  Baron Samedi’s presence behind her intensified, giving her the courage to let her own power build. She drew on the energy of the spirit realm, concentrating her magic into her words. “I want to see them now.”

  Her uncle’s eyes widened, and he started toward the other room before shaking his head and swinging the belt toward her, the leathery end slapping across her side with a crack. Sharp pain ricocheted through her ribcage, and she squealed.

  “Don’t you ever try to use your power against me again. You understand?” He shook the belt toward her. “I got plenty more of these lying around.”

  With a hard exhale, Odette released control, opening herself up to Baron Samedi. Pressure built in her chest, a burning sensation ripping through her veins as the loa took control of her body. Her spine straightened, and her head turned toward her uncle, but she wasn’t making herself move. She tried to run, to turn around and get the hell out of that place, but her will had no effect on her movements. She was like a puppet, Baron Samedi her master.

  With long strides, the loa carried her past her uncle, and with strength not her own, she jerked from the man’s grasp as he tried to stop her.

  “You get back here, girl.” He followed after her, and she whirled around to face him.

  “Baron Samedi wants to see the ouangas. Who are you to stop me, bokor?” The Baron made her mouth form the words, and though she fought it, she’d lost all control.

  Her uncle’s mouth hung open, his arms falling slack at his sides before he ducked his head in a bow. “Baron Samedi? I had no idea it was you. Please accept my apology.”

  “Why are you stealing souls that belong to me?” Her body should have been trembling, but her voice was strong and confident, not her own.

  “Stealing?” He chuckled. “Naw, I’m not stealing. Most of those people are still alive. I’m just holding onto them while they’re sick. I’ll give ‘em back once they heal.”

  The Baron used Odette’s body to grab her uncle’s shirt and twist it in her fist. “You’ve lied to the girl enough. You’re not dealing with her right now, you’re talking to a loa.” She released her hold, giving him a light shove, and her uncle smoothed his shirt down his chest.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m taking them back.” She turned toward the ouangas and lifted her hands as an ancient energy buzzed in her veins, growing in intensity until she felt like she would explode. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her muscles cramped like a Charlie horse had overtaken her entire body. Please, Baron, she begged in her mind, it hurts.

  If she’d had control she’d have crumpled to the floor, her desperate screams piercing through the swamp. Instead, she stood tall, focusing the searing, vibrating energy into her palms and throwing it at the ouangas.

  The first jar shattered, the pieces flying across the room as the soul trapped inside it was freed, the Baron’s magic joining it with the living being to which it belonged.

  “No!” Her uncle begged. “Don’t take them.”

  The second ouanga shattered, the soul swirling into the air and hovering on the ceiling, confusion furrowing its ghostly brow. Though it had been stolen from a living person, the victim had since died, so the soul had nowhere to go.

  It would be Odette’s job to cross the dead over to the spirit realm if she survived this possession. The Baron called on more of his power, and her blood felt like it boiled in her veins. It was too much magic for a human to endure. Her muscles screamed for relief. Her steady pulse begged to race in her chest, but the Baron kept her under tight control.

  She lifted her hand to free the next soul when her uncle grabbed her shoulders, attempting to tackle her. Baron Samedi’s otherworldly strength held her still, and she threw her uncle against the wall, holding him there with the loa’s magic.

  Jar after jar shattered, the living souls exiting the moment they were freed, the dead collecting in a mass by the corner. Her uncle screamed, angry, hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled against Baron Samedi’s hold.

  As the last of the ouangas broke, the ghost joining the others, the Baron’s voice echoed in Odette’s mind. Cross them over and go home, child. I’m proud of you.

  The loa ripped from her body, and she collapsed in a heap on the floor. Her muscles felt like pulverized meat, her nerves raw and exposed as she heaved in breath after breath, the air slicing through her lungs like razor blades.

  She scrambled to her feet, doubling over as dizziness threatened to force her to the ground. The mass of ghosts glared at her, their anger palpable in the air. All seven of them drifted toward her, their energy converging into one impenetrable wall of hate.

  She stepped backward into her uncle’s chest, and he gripped her shoulders, throwing her to the ground. Her head smacked the wood with a clunk, and her vision swam. Dropping to his knees, Mathias clutched her throat, tightening his grip until she couldn’t breathe.

  “You little bitch,” he growled between clenched teeth. “How dare you bring your loa here to steal everything I’ve worked for?”

  Stars glittered in her darkening vision as she clawed at her uncle’s hands, but he was too strong, her own strength zapped from the loa’s possession. If she couldn’t fulfill her duty and cross over the souls, Baron Samedi probably wouldn’t accept hers.

  “Dad?”

  Her uncle loosened his grip as her cousin, Emile, stormed into the room, and Odette gasped for breath.

  “Get off her!” Emile tackled his father, freeing Odette from his clutches, and she scrambled to stand, panting.

  Mathias focused his anger on his son, wailing on Emile like he’d been the one to free the souls. He landed punch after punch, bloodying his son’s face until his eye swelled shut.

  “Stop it!” Odette screamed, but the men ignored her. Mathias continued pounding on his son, Emile lying motionless beneath his father’s rage.

  The ghosts advanced on her again, and she threw up her arms. “Stop!”

  The spirits froze, and a euphoric sensation swept through her body, making her tingle from head to toe. “Turn around.”

  The spirits did as they were told. As she told them to do, and her heart sprinted. “Stop Mathias.” She pointed to her uncle. “Get him!”

  The ghosts converged on Mathias, but their essence passed right through him. Odette opened herself to the spirit realm, channeling the energy of the dead through her body and into the ghosts, making the specters’ ethereal forms solid.

  A burly ghost grabbed her uncle and yanked him off Emile, while a female spirit punched him in
the stomach.

  A hysterical laugh bubbled up from Odette’s chest. These ghosts were hers to command. No wonder her uncle had been so willing to tutor her; she had a power unlike anything she’d known possible, and he had planned to exploit it.

  The ghosts continued their assault, beating her uncle until she screamed at them to stop. The burly spirit dropped Mathias’s lifeless body to the ground, his head lolling at an unnatural angle. His neck had been snapped.

  Oh, no. No, no, no. She didn’t use the ghosts to kill her uncle. That’s not what she meant when she told them to get him. This couldn’t be happening.

  She could fix this. She could use the ghosts to… No. No, she couldn’t. No matter how amazing it felt to use her newfound magic, she made a promise to Baron Samedi to cross the spirits over, and that’s what she would do.

  Raising her hands toward the ghosts, she used her magic one last time and called on Baron Samedi to take the spirits. One by one, they disintegrated into the spirit realm, leaving Odette alone with the man she’d murdered and his bruised and bloodied son.

  Tears brimmed in her eyes as she dropped to her knees between them, and Emile rolled to his side and looked at his father. Odette followed his gaze and found Mathias’s eyes wide with fear, the light in them gone, and a knot wedged in her throat, blocking her sob.

  The room spun. A million thoughts raced through her mind, but she couldn’t grab onto one. She’d lost control. First with the Baron using her body and then with her own powers. She’d killed a man. Her own uncle.