Leif (Existence Trilogy #2.5)(11)
Pagan shook her head as her eyes focused on the ball of fire in my palm. “You’re just going to take me from earth? What about my mother? I can’t just leave her.”
No. That wasn’t what I planned to do. Shaking my head, I extinguished the flame in my palm and walked back over to stand in front of her. “I’ll take you back soon. She won’t even realize you were gone. I just needed a place where I could talk to you. To explain, without,” unable to control the distaste over her affections for Dankmar, I snarled, “that stupid transporter or Dankmar continuously botching my attempts.”
The sigh of relief in her voice told me she’d once again thought the worst of me. “You were worried I would hold you prisoner? Come on Pagan, you know me better than that. When have I not made sure you were happy? When have I ever intentionally hurt you? Never.” I reached out and took her hand in mine. When she didn’t snatch it out of my grasp, I pulled her beside me.
“What is it you want to talk to me about?” She asked studying me. She was calmer now. The rapidly beating sound of her heart had eased.
“That’s better. Your heart has slowed down. I don’t like having you scared. I never want you to fear me,” I squeezed her hand in reassurance of my sincerity. “Come for a walk with me, please. We can talk while I show you around.” I reached for the stone wall that I knew would open up onto Bourbon Street.
Pagan stepped out into the warm New Orleans evening. Her eyes widened in shock as she scanned our surroundings. The bars, dance clubs, and voodoo shops were all lit up against the darkness of the night. Tap dancing kids, drunken men, and topless women all claimed her attention as if it were a play being performed just for her. The familiarity of the scene in front of us suddenly seemed vulgar as I watched Pagan take in the lewd behavior I’d grown up amidst. I didn’t want her watching anymore. It was all-wrong. She didn’t belong. She was too good, too pure.
“Come on Pagan, you’ve got your eyeful. Let’s go for a ride,” I replied leading her toward the buggy I’d summoned.
“We’re going to ride?” She asked as I picked her up and placed her safely inside. I suddenly wanted to take her somewhere that was good enough for her. This was too dirty. It wouldn’t do.
“Yep,” I replied taking the seat across from her. “So, what do you think of Bourbon Street? Everything you’d ever imagined?” I wanted to make light of the inappropriate behavior I’d just forced her to witness.
“These shops, the Voodoo ones...,” she asked trailing off.
Chuckling, I glanced over at one of the ridiculous shops set up to take advantage of tourist with hopes of finding a spell for true love or a skinner waist line or revenge on their enemies. If they only knew.
“Are owned by regular people sucking the tourists dry. Not one of them hold any power. I’d guess if a real voodoo spirit were to grace their doors they’d close up and leave town. The real voodoo isn’t along these streets. It can only be found deep in the swamp by those chosen by the spirits to embody it.”
“This is the Garden District. It’s a nicer area. The most well preserved southern mansions can be found right here.” I explained relieved to be leaving the filth of my world behind us.
“What did you want to talk to me about Leif? Why am I here?”
She was ready to talk now. Okay. We could talk. I leaned forward resting my elbows on my knees and held her gaze. “I know you understand now what your mother did. You remember all the times I’ve come to you in your life. You know it was me that day in the old Voodoo queen’s home that removed the sickness from your body. Yes, I did it and I require, my father requires, restitution for it. All gris gris comes with payment. Not the monetary kind like the voodoo shop owners require. Real Voodoo requires something more. The more difficult the request, the more the payment will be. I wanted you to live Pagan. I’d watched you from the moment you arrived in New Orleans. The nurse watching over you was the granddaughter of the voodoo queen. She brought me to see you the first day you arrived. I was fascinated with your spunk. My father was looking for my mate and I went to him with the request to have you. He said we must wait. That if it was meant to happen then fate would play into our hands. When the doctors said you would not see another day, your mother went to the nurse and she brought you to the old voodoo queen who summoned me.” I forced myself to stop. She needed time to process all of this. I’d just been waiting so long to tell her all these things. Time was short. Dankmar would find her soon. Our time was limited and I wanted so badly to make her understand.
“A life cannot be spared for free. The cost is a life for a life. I saved your life and in doing so bought your soul. It has been mine since the day you were healed. I’ve been near you ever since.”
The frown on Pagan’s face puckered her forehead. “None of this makes sense. Why did you become human? Why did you ignore me for years? Why did you pretend with me? Why do you want me? Why can’t you just let me go?”
She was ready to listen.
Then I felt his power. The life around us stilled. Not even the birds would remain in Death’s presence. I’d been so close to making her understand. So damn close.
“He’s here. How the hell did Dankmar get here so quickly?” Without a backward glance I left her there. I wasn’t ready to face Dankmar. He still held all the cards— her love and his authority over life.