“Go in there.” The woman freed Sarah’s wrist and pointed to the white door on the left.
Sarah lifted her hand to knock.
“No, just go in. She’s waiting for you.”
Sarah’s fingers shook a bit when she grasped the doorknob. She twisted it and the door swung inward with a groan.
More candles. Flickering. The scents of jasmine and vanilla hung in the air. And in the far right corner, a woman leaned over an old wooden table. Her long hair—a shade of smoke between black and pure gray—cloaked her features.
“Come in, child,” she murmured, her voice rising and falling in the same rhythm as the man. Her native accent. Haiti. Marie Dusean lifted her head and her hair slipped back, revealing a face lined with knowledge and time, a face that was strangely beautiful. Otherworldly. But Marie’s eyes . . . those blue eyes were cloudy. Far too cloudy to see.
Cataracts? Was that—
“I can see everything I need to see,” Marie told her. “Far more than you.” Her gnarled fingers lifted and she beckoned Sarah closer. An empty seat waited on the other side of the table.
Sarah walked forward slowly as her gaze searched the shadows. The wooden floor creaked beneath her.
“Only us,” Marie told her. “No more eyes . . . no more ears . . .”
Sarah’s fingers slid over the back of the chair. “I have a friend outside. He needs your help.”
Those blank eyes stared up at her and a faint smile curved Marie’s lips. A smile that was the faintest bit cruel. “What makes you think I’d want to help the wolf?”
Her palms were sweating. “Because he’ll die if you don’t.”
Marie’s hands slapped against the wooden table top. “Might anyway.”
No.
Marie leaned forward. “Matters so much to you, does he?”
Sarah eased around the chair and sat, hard, her knees weak. Was Marie reading her mind? “He saved me. I can’t let him die.”
“Can’t stop Death.” A shrug. “Not when he’s coming.” Those eyes were just eerie as they locked on her. “He’s coming for you, charmer.”
First the Haitian, now the mambo. “How did you know I was—”
“Special . . . aren’t you?” The thin shawl around Marie’s shoulders slipped a bit. “Better be careful. Some would kill for a little power.”
“I’m just here about Lucas.” She reached forward, scared but determined, and caught the mambo’s hands in hers. “Please. I’ll do anything. ”
Marie laughed and the hollow sound chilled Sarah. “How badly do you want him?”
The hair on her nape rose.
“What would you trade?” Marie pressed.
Sarah hesitated.
“Um . . . what I thought. Not yet ready to give your life for his, are you?”
The woman was jerking her around. Ancient or not, this Marie was as sharp as they came. “Can you save him?” Maybe she hadn’t been asking the right questions.
“I can do anything.” Not boasting. Sounded just like Marie was stating a fact.
“Can you—”
“Two ways . . . Stop him before Death comes . . .” Her eyes slit a bit. “Drag him back after. But, you might not like how he comes back.”
Oh, hell, no, the woman had not just offered to make Lucas into what—a freaking zombie?
“Don’t look so shocked, child. Wouldn’t be the first time, wouldn’t be the last.” Her gaze trekked to the window on the right. “Sometimes folks can’t let go.” A hint of sadness colored the words.
“I don’t want him dead. I want you to save him.”
Marie’s stare turned back to her. “What will you give?”
Dammit. Time was running out. For Lucas? “Everything.”
A small nod and some of the lines smoothed from Marie’s forehead. The woman almost looked . . . satisfied. “Good. But it won’t take all that.”
Sarah didn’t believe her.
“I’ll have Maxime bring in your man.”
Sarah leapt to her feet. “And you’ll really be able to save him? He’s got silver in his blood. The bullets fragmented and—”
“Already know that.” The thin shawl slipped down her shoulders another few inches. “If your man didn’t have such a strong spirit, Death would already have him.” Those cloudy eyes closed. “Felt his spirit long ago, when he came after my Maya. Knew he was coming, long before he set foot on my land.”
Maya. The name clicked. Maya Black was a vampire in LA. Powerful, kick-ass, and rumored to be mated to an equally powerful shifter.
“Strong spirit,” the mambo whispered again. “Spirit wants you, charmer. He’s not making this easy.”
No, Lucas wouldn’t.
Marie’s eyes opened and fixed unerringly on her. “If Death takes him, you want me to bring him back?”
Her breath caught in her throat, almost choking her. “How bad you want him to stay with you?” Marie pressed, blind eyes watching too closely.
“I don’t—” Back from the dead? This was too beyond her experience. You can’t do that. That was her instinctual response. No, that was the way she’d been raised to think. But the truth was . . . vampires bit their prey, demons played with fire, and she controlled wolves. “I just want him to live,” she whispered.
“Maybe he will.” Marie rose, her long hair fluttering around her. “Maybe he won’t.” Her smile was gone. “Either way, I’ll be collecting what’s owed to me.”
A chill slipped down Sarah’s spine. “Save him.”
Marie’s head inclined. “But there’s no saving everyone. No matter how you fight, Death will still be there.” The candles flickered. Marie’s hands fisted. “When the time comes, tell her to let go.”
What? “Um, tell who?”
But Marie just smiled her small, tight smile.
The candles flickered again, a wild, desperate dance, and the shadows in the room lengthened as Marie began to chant.
“This is a bad idea,” Dane said, his shoulders brushing Piers’s as they faced off against the men and women blocking the entrance to Marie Dusean’s house.
“It’s the only idea I had,” Piers growled back at him.
Their claws were out. Claws and teeth were the only weapons they had. Normally, that would be enough, but with Marie—
If half the stories floating around about her were true, claws and teeth wouldn’t even scratch her skin.