Voodoo Priest (Blaire Thorne Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Voodoo Priest

  Dedication

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  From the Author

  Copyright © 2019 by N Gray

  All rights reserved

  No part of this ebook may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

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

  If you enjoyed reading this story, please consider leaving a review on Amazon.

  You can find me here www.ngraybooks.com

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  First Edition 2019

  Edited by Novel Approach

  Published in South Africa by Cutman Press

  A series of gruesome murders has left Sterling Meadow in the grip of a sadistic killer. Each of the murders follows a similar MO; the victims are all male, their physical attributes are similar, and their internal organs have been removed, replaced with a small voodoo doll.

  All evidence points to local voodoo practitioner Ross McNielty, a man with plenty of secrets to hide. But when the police are unable to confirm their suspicions, Ulysses Assassins are called in to confirm what they cannot.

  Blaire Thorne, still recovering from the amnesia caused by a vicious were-animal attack that left her for dead, and her colleague, Ralph, are tasked with bringing McNielty to justice. But along with her developing relationship with were-leopard Sebastian and her discovering yet more of the truth about who she is, Blaire finds herself once more in the middle of a nightmare.

  A nightmare that could change everything …

  “I didn’t want to pick up a gun or a blade and kill the monsters. However bad they were, they were still people. I might be able to protect myself if it was self-defense, but I couldn’t see myself killing someone on purpose. Could I?”

  -Blaire Thorne, Voodoo Priest-

  Prologue

  SCOUT WAS SITTING ON MY LAP. She was so small and light that I barely felt her weight as I wiped away her tears. But, instead of tears, it was blood I was smearing all over her face.

  I saw liquid in her ears, so I cleaned that, too; the tissue came away covered in the same maroon liquid. She blew her nose, and that, too, came away bloody.

  I had to remain calm. Scout was bleeding everywhere, and I wanted to help her. I was trying to keep her feeling relaxed, but the blood was everywhere.

  “Help me, Mommy,” she said, another red tear staining her cheek.

  I held her small body tightly against mine. I pictured all the whiteness of my aura and pushed it into her, the cool, serene force of my power searching for the virus that was killing her. My strength finally found that hopeful spark and reignited it.

  “It burns. You’re burning me, Mommy!” Scout cried out, her tiny fingernails digging into my skin.

  A dark figure emerged from the shadows and towered over us. His large hands pried their way between our embrace; those dark hands were covered in soot. Black feathers danced in the air all around him and fell over us.

  “Mommy, please don’t let him take me! I want to stay with you …” she said, her shrill cries echoing off the walls.

  “No, you can’t take her now. I haven’t finished. I was helping her. No, no—please, not yet,” I cried.

  But my pleas were ignored.

  The clandestine figure opened his wings and scooped Scout into his arms. “I can protect her, Blaire. I am the only one who can take away her pain.”

  “Nooo!” I screamed, but my scream was heard by no-one but the four walls of my bedroom.

  My chest ached, my breathing was labored, and my tears flowed.

  I climbed out of bed, blew my nose and washed my face in the bathroom.

  Heavens, what the hell was that?

  In the mirror, I saw a black feather lying atop my shoulder. I stared at the object, frozen by the thought of whoever the figure was still being here. But as I reached my shoulder to remove it, it was gone. I glanced in the mirror again, and it was no longer there.

  A noise from my bedroom caught my attention. Something moved in the dark shadows near the curtains. My pulse thundered in my ears. With one hand curled around the doorjamb, I flicked the bedroom light on, but it was only the wind from the open window that was moving the curtain. I exhaled a shaky breath.

  It had only been a dream, but it had felt so real. And even though it was just a dream, the smell of burned flesh was still wafting in the air.

  The feel of my daughter in my arms had been comforting. She must have been six or seven years old in the dream, and my chest began to ache.

  I missed her and wanted to see her again.

  Chapter 1

  MY HIPS STARTED TO BURN, my legs already numb. I was mirroring Seraphine, but where she had had years of training and sitting in the lotus position, I had only had two sessions. We were midway through the second session, and again it only comprised meditation, core strengthening and drinking copious amounts of green tea.

  Seraphine’s a witch and had agreed to train me in all things spooky. Two months ago, when she had removed the curse that almost killed me—a curse she had placed on her then-boyfriend, Danny—she had metaphysically seen that I had some kind of ability.

  Seraphine explained that I had a direct metaphysical connection to the spiritual world; to any mystical world. And, with the right training, I would be able to syphon other powers and store them until I needed to use them. She had also hinted that she had sensed something else within me, but she hadn’t been quite sure of what it was, exactly.

  So far, I had no idea how to do any of that, but apparently she was training me. I would have to wait and see.

  She uncrossed her legs and stood up gracefully. With silky-smooth chestnut hair that flowed all the way to her knees, she always managed to keep it out of her face without having to tie it up. She was about as tall as me—five foot five—and had the right amount of curves to drive any man crazy. With a thin nose and lips, and sharp features to complete the look, her eyes were the best of all her features.

  The eyes reveal so much about a person, giving little clues as to what they like and what they were thinking. The different shades of the iris were the best part, and some were utterly captivating, like Seraphine’s. Hers were the lightest green I had ever seen, almost translucent because there wasn’t a dark ring surrounding her iris like almost all green eyes had. And, depending on her mood, they would either lighten or darken. I would say she was the most exotic-lookin
g person I had ever seen.

  I uncrossed my legs, straightened them out in front of me and wiggled my toes until I could feel them again. Seraphine was older than me and she made standing up from a seated position look so easy and boneless; yet there were crunching and clicking sounds coming from my hips and knees.

  “Don’t grow impatient, Blaire.” It sounded like a warning. “We train for years before we can touch any of our spell books. We meditate and read about the differences between good and evil before we can even think about learning any spells. You are not like us, yet you are. So, we don’t know how to go about doing this; there’s much for us to cover, but I don’t want it to be too much, too soon. It will take time.”

  “I know.” The feeling in my legs returned, and I stood up slower than I wanted to. “I’m not impatient.”

  Seraphine had invited me here to learn about the potential I was harboring, but she hadn’t taught me anything useful yet. To be honest, I was feeling a little restless because we hadn’t done anything, but I was also excited to learn something no matter how small.

  Hopefully I wasn’t wasting my time, and hers.

  “Let’s have some tea—proper tea, not that green stuff we’ve been drinking.” The humor in her eyes matched her curved mouth, and she started walking toward her spacious kitchen.

  I followed her. A kitchen like hers was a chef’s dream. My jaw had dropped last month when I first visited, and she had been positively glowing when she told me how much she enjoyed cooking.

  She switched the kettle on and grabbed two cups and saucers from the cupboard for the tea.

  “I thought we could have tuna mayo sandwiches with our tea today?”

  “I don’t mind.” I really didn’t. I would eat anything she made.

  Last month, we had chicken sandwiches, but it was like nothing I had ever eaten before. I had two sandwiches and didn’t eat for the rest of the day.

  I came prepared today—I skipped breakfast.

  We sat at her dining table with our tuna sandwiches on china plates which matched the placemats underneath. She poured tea out of a pot into our gold-rimmed cups. My mouth watered. Now all we needed was the Queen.

  Today, she sat next to me; last month, she had sat across from me. Her place mat was right next to mine. The table was a twelve-seater, and I fought the urge to scoot away from her.

  There was a silver cloche covering the food. I waited to remove mine until Seraphine had removed hers. My left hand was resting on the table when she grabbed it. I flinched and fought not to squeal. She had never touched me before now.

  Her touch was gentle at first, then it warmed up and tiny pinpricks began to form right where she held me. Then the pinpricks started to move up my arm.

  “Breathe,” she said, her eyes closed and her hand still holding onto mine.

  I exhaled slowly.

  “Tighten your core muscles.”

  I did, then I inhaled slowly and exhaled.

  “Close your eyes.”

  As I did so, I felt the pinpricks mutate into red hot flames as they moved further up my arm. I bit my lip.

  I would not scream.

  “Breathe, Blaire.”

  “It’s hot,” I said, raising my voice slightly, fighting the urge not to yell at her.

  “Take it in, Blaire. Hold it in.”

  The fire moved into my shoulder, along my collar bone, and around my neck. It circled my heart and squeezed it. My breathing came in shallow breaths, beads of sweat starting to pour down my face as my clothing clung to my body. My right hand gripped the side of the chair, and that hurt, too.

  “Blaire!” she yelled at me.

  “What?” I said through gritted teeth.

  The fire was crawling through my veins, near my jaw, in my ear, and right behind my eye socket.

  “Aaah! It hurts, Seraphine. It’s too much.”

  I wanted her to let go. I needed her to let go.

  The fire she had ignited inside me reached my brain, and my breathing became labored. I pushed air through the circle of my mouth like expectant mothers do when pushing— except I was trying to push the fire out of me, and not a newborn.

  She lifted her hand off mine and the fire receded, like ice running through my body. I rubbed my hand where it still hurt.

  She turned to face me. “Now do the same to me, Blaire.” Her pale green eyes had bled to the color of seaweed, and she opened her hand for me to take.

  I could still feel the fire pulsing at my fingertips; it was there for me to use. I took her hand and thought about what she had said. That I needed to take that power and use it on her.

  I pictured the fire that had burned through me and how it had hurt throughout my body. Extending my fingertips, I pushed that little spark back into her, gripping her hand tightly, my nails digging into her skin. She tried to pull free of my grip, but I held on.

  A smile spread across my face, a grin somewhere between smug and pleased.

  I let go of her hand and that little spark disappeared—I’d used everything she had pushed inside of me.

  A pained expression crossed her face, and when her eyes fluttered open, there was something else present in her stare. Regret?

  “Are you okay?” I asked, turning my body to face her.

  “I was only testing you, Blaire, but…” She turned her hollow gaze in my direction, and I held my breath. She was quiet for a moment, her haunted eyes flicking away to stare at something behind me. I didn’t want to look away. “How were you able to do that?”

  I shrugged and stared at my fingertips as I wiggled them.

  “I don’t know. When you let go of my hand, I could still feel the energy at my fingertips. All I had to do was push it into you the same way you did to me.” I shrugged again. “I felt it—how it went into your hand and up your arm. I wanted it to hurt you as badly as it hurt me.” My lips were dry.

  She nodded quickly. “That was good. You are a fast learner.”

  “I wonder if I was able to do that before—”

  “Have any of your memories come back yet?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s all very much a blank, still.” I hesitated, closing my mouth.

  “What, Blaire? What were you going to say?”

  To look at her would show too much. There were dreams I had been having— they could even have been memories—but I wasn’t sure yet as to what they all meant.

  “Look at me, Blaire.” Seraphine was nothing if not persistent. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I’ve been having dreams… Of my daughter,” I said, and I looked into Seraphine’s eyes as they returned to their light green hue. “Or they could be memories, but I don’t know. I can’t be sure.”

  “It’s been two months, Blaire. Your wounds have healed, have they not?” She touched the fine scar above my left eye, a light brush of her fingertips with no magic behind them.

  Mel, the were-wolf doctor who treated me after I was attacked by a were-wolf and a were-lion, had done a wonderful job that if you didn’t know I had stitches on my face, you wouldn’t know the scar was there. The scar on the left side of my abdomen and back was another story altogether; it stretched from my belly button all the way across my body, ending somewhere near my spine. The red welts of the scarring branching off in all different directions looked like a road map, the result of my attackers trying to tear me apart.

  “Yes, the wounds have healed.”

  “But not in here.” She pressed a finger lightly to my forehead.

  I blinked back tears.

  My favorite song started playing, and I knew who was calling me. Ralph. I fished my phone out of my pocket and answered the call.

  “What’s up?”

  “Are you done yet? We have a new contract and I think you should join me on this one.”

  “I don’t know, Ralph...”

  After I was attacked, I had suffered short-term amnesia which had completely robbed me of my identity. In the weeks that followed, I had slowly learned t
he truth about myself, and, in all honesty, it wasn’t exactly a truth I was thrilled about.

  Since the ‘new me’ still wasn’t sure about being an assassin, I had been convalescing on holiday for the past two months, and each time Ralph had received a contract, I had politely declined his offer to join him. He was my partner in the killing game; we used to scope out targets and kill the monsters together. Ordinarily, I was usually the one to do the hit, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep doing that.

  “You can stay in the car, I promise.”

  I hesitated. I wanted to, but caution told me not to go.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “I need to fetch you anyway. You might as well just ride along instead of sulking back at your place.”

  I rolled my eyes and was glad he couldn’t see it.

  To Seraphine, I asked, “Are we done for the day?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay. You can come fetch me now, if you want.”

  Chapter 2

  I HELPED SERAPHINE CLEAR THE TABLE when we were done eating and thanked her for the session. We set a date for next month and agreed that I would bring something sweet for tea. At first, she refused, saying it was her house and that she looked after her guests—not the other way around. I told her it was a small gesture to repay her for her kindness helping me, seeing as though she wouldn’t take money. She reluctantly agreed. Unfortunately, my baking skills were awful, but I knew a great bakery around the corner from my house.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and wrapped my coat tightly around my body. It was only autumn, but the wind had an icy chill to it today.

  As I waited for Ralph, I thought of my daughter, Scout, and what she was doing. Was she outside in the cold like I was? Or was she someplace warmer? Her father, Mason, had had to run away with her to keep her safe. That happened ten years ago, but for me, I relived it months ago upon hearing about my past.