“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.
“I think it’s best to pull the boat up and wait for your father,” Rourke said. “We don’t know what’s real now, and what may be an illusion. From what I know about black magic, everything is tainted.” He slowed the boat down by turning off the propeller and gliding us toward a thick bank of trees. These boats didn’t have brakes. As Rourke nestled the boat in between cypress roots like a pro, the air around us pushed down on our chests, making it harder to breathe.
My wolf paced back and forth, lifting her muzzle to scent the area. The smell of rancid meat and rotting flesh started to creep into my senses. No wonder the guides didn’t venture any farther. It was menacing here, and the trees were so thick that we could see only a few feet into the grove. Anything could be lurking there.
“Is that fog rolling in like on a movie set?” Marcy asked, her voice hitting a high note at the end. “This place is laced with negative energy.”
There was indeed a fog creeping in. It was misting in front of us, straight up the waterway, blocking out any sun that had been trying to filter through.
“Dammit,” Tyler swore. “This isn’t good.”
Rourke went to the side of the boat. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’re about a mile farther in than the guides have ever been. I didn’t feel any wards, but we definitely crossed a line of some kind back there.” He glanced at the sky. “And the vamps should’ve been back by now. I say we turn around and head back to wait for them on the other side of the line. No reason to stay here like sitting ducks if we’re in the priestess’s domain.” Rourke reached back to flip the fan back on.
Nothing happened.
Danny stepped over the bench in front of us, heading toward the guys. “Here, let me help. I have gifted fingers when it comes to starting things.”
Rourke stepped aside. “By all means, wolf, give it your best shot.” Danny flipped the switch and nothing happened. Tyler started to argue with him and Rourke drew closer to me. He leaned over and said, “If we’re under some kind of attack, I want you to head straight back the way we came. Use the sun if you have to, but I want you to go.”