I glanced at Rourke and my brother. Marcy sat beside me and Danny was in front of us. “Do you feel anything particular?” I asked my mate.
“Not yet,” he said. “But according to the guide, we still have about ten miles to go. We’re edging toward the coast. Keep your senses open. I don’t have a good feeling about this.” He shook his head gravely. “Whoever this priestess is, she knows we’re coming.”
We headed down the channel in silence for another few miles, all of us scouting and trying to sense any magic.
“Marcy, tell me what you know about voodoo,” I murmured, not taking my eyes off the trees. “Before, you said it’s magic based on sacrifice and blood. What else?”
“Voodoo is very old magic—possibly one of the oldest forms of all time. It’s often referred to as vodou or voudoun. And from what I know—and my info is a little sketchy because it’s been so long—the kind that’s practiced in the U.S. was brought over from the West Indies a few hundred years ago. Voodoo worships the loa, which are literally spirits—like ghosts—but much more powerful. A priestess can summon the loa, and the spirit inhabits her body. It’s called being ‘ridden,’ if you can believe it.” She guffawed. “Not a ride I’d want to take.”
“No, that sounds a little unpleasant,” I mused.
“After they summon the loa, they’re supposed to become stronger. There are a couple of groups of loas, if I remember correctly, but this is coming from my grade-school witch education, so take it with a pinch of salt. All spell casters are required to learn about the entire witchy community, so we know how to defeat them.”
“Did you learn how to defeat them in grade school?” I asked, my voice hopeful.
“Heck no!” She laughed. “That’s a specialized field of magic. They just teach us a broad overview and how to shield and bounce back certain spells. But now that I’m thinking about it, there might be a teensy thing that could make this entire thing worse.” She turned toward me, her face appearing a little stricken.
“What is it? You just went pale.”
“Talking about this made me remember. In voudoun, the priestesses are not the top of the food chain.”
“They’re not?”
“No. So pray to your great aunt Fanny that we’re dealing with a priestess here, because if we’re not, life is about to get much harder.”
“Stop beating around the bush and just tell me what you’re talking about! What’s more powerful than a priestess?” I didn’t really want to know, did I?
“A bokor.”
The name rang a few tiny bells inside my head, but not enough to put it together on my own. “Explain.”
“In a nutshell, they’re the equivalent of a sorceress, and they deal primarily with the dead.”
“Like a necromancer?” I asked, hoping she would tell me they were nothing like a necromancer.
“Kind of, I guess. I don’t know much about it. We’re talking fifth-grade learning here. But I do know they’re supposed to be able to control their victims’ brain activities, and I know this because we used to chase each other around on the playground pretending to ‘voodoo’ each other at recess. But who knows, really? Like anything in our world, it’s all myth until you see it for yourself. If Tally were here, she’d set us straight.” Marcy’s eyes misted immediately and she glanced away. “Dang, I hope that old biddy is okay.”
“Me too.” I’d been worried about Tally too. Ever since we’d found out the witches had disappeared unexpectedly, my mind had been occupied with scenarios about what had happened to her, none of them good, and all of them involving me in some way. Tally had disappeared while she was helping me after I’d killed Ardat Lili, who was the previous witch contingent on the Coalition. After we finished helping my father, aiding the witches would be my next order of business. I had no doubt Tally was in trouble because of me. “Do you have any hunches where she might be? Anything that can help us?”
“Not really. The only info I have was from that Romanian witch who said there was something brewing in Italy.” Marcy had filled me in before we’d boarded the plane. To me, it was no coincidence that Julian de Rossi, the leader of the European Pack, was also in Italy. If there was a convergence of supernatural activity going on, they were all tied up in it together.
The air around us suddenly became heavier.
Both Marcy and I straightened in our seats. I darted a look back to Rourke. His face was set.
We’d all felt it. Black magic.