“Yes.”
I guess it made sense to use a voodoo charm of protection against the son of a voodoo god that protected things. If sense could be made of any of this.
“How did Mait come to exist?” I asked. It never hurt to know the history of a Nephilim. Sometimes the past was the only thing we had to keep us alive in the present.
“Legend says his mother—a mambo, or priestess who became a bokor—summoned Kalfu with black magic, then compelled him to give her a child.”
I shivered despite the steaming heat that still poured in through the open balcony doors. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to do that. The idea of allowing a demon to not only touch you but impregnate you—
I shivered again. I could imagine it, but I really wished I’d stop.
“Where’s Kalfu now?”
“The lowest level of hell with all the other fiends.” Oh, yeah. To make a Nephilim like Mait required a Grigori and a human. Kalfu, being a Grigori, was confined. At the moment.
“What about the voodoo witch mom?” She might be the human part of the equation, but in this story she’d behaved as badly as any demon.
“Dead,” Jimmy said.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” Jimmy tossed the trash into the wastebasket in the corner.
“You killed her.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
“Lizzy,” Jimmy murmured, and when I glanced at him he gestured to the window.
The moon was coming up.
“Could you do one thing?” he asked.
“I’m sure I’ll have to do more than one.”
His exhale was short, sharp, and annoyed. I couldn’t blame him. “Can you take that off?”
He pointed to the turquoise that still lay between my breasts. It had always driven Jimmy insane. I guess I couldn’t blame him. The stone was a constant reminder of the bond between Sawyer and me.
Without another word, I lifted the necklace over my head and set it aside.
Jimmy and I had never had a problem having sex. The problem had always been trying not to have it. Of course things had changed since the last time we’d had anything but vampire sex. I wondered if Jimmy would be able to perform. He not only didn’t love me anymore, lately he didn’t even seem to like me.
Jimmy opened the brown paper bag on the dresser and began to remove items. Candles, incense, and two tiny burlap sacks, which he set away from the rest. The gris-gris, I assumed.
“Candles and incense,” I said. “How . . . seventies.”
Jimmy’s cough sounded like smothered laughter, but when his dark eyes met mine in the mirror on the wall not a hint of amusement remained. “Both the candles and incense contain dragon’s blood.”
“There be dragons?” I quipped.
Jimmy gave me a look. We both knew there were dragons. We’d killed quite a few, and I was certain there were more where they’d come from.
“Dragon’s blood is an herb,” he said. “In the candles it ensures that whatever we put in, we get out.” He held up a hand to stall my questions. “I’ll explain later. In the incense it cleanses negative entities or influences.”
Jimmy picked up a green candle and set it on the table. “Green for changes and renewal.” He set a red candle on one side of the bed and a pink on the other.
“And those?”
“Sex stuff,” he answered, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I didn’t push it. I couldn’t.
Next came the incense—small cones that Jimmy set on equally small dishes next to the candles, lighting one before he moved on to the next. “Tea tree for cures. Spearmint for freedom, power, and peace. Bay for protection and exorcism.”
Listening to Sanducci recite the magical powers of scents and colors was a little like hearing a professional wrestler share his favorite recipe for canapés.
“You learned all this from Summer?” I asked. “She doesn’t seem like an incense-and-candle gal.”
Jimmy went to the window and stared at the sky, neatly avoiding my eyes again. He didn’t want to talk about Summer. Hell, neither did I.
The candles glowed softly golden, at odds with the cool silver spray of the moon. The incense mixed with the scent of the night, and I felt a little floaty.
“During the spell,” Jimmy said, “we’ll order our demons beneath the full moon, banish them from our souls, ask for protection and peace.”
“What we put in, we get out,” I murmured. “When do we do this?”
“I’ll—” He cleared his throat. “I’ll let you know.”
Silence settled over us. Jimmy continued to peer upward. I continued to stand several feet away, breathing in candle wax and incense.
“Should we . . . ?” I began, then paused, uncertain what to say.
“We probably shouldn’t,” Jimmy muttered. “But that never stopped us before.”
I found myself smiling. That had been the perfect thing to say.