I nodded. “I always knew Nick would be a great leader. He managed to keep me safe for all my formative years, and that took some gumption. How many status fights has he had?”
“Three,” my father said. “After that, I placed him in charge of the younger wolves, and there have been no further issues. He’s like a son to me, and my wolves know that, wolf or not. But I will not tolerate any underhanded dealings. If one of my wolves wants to challenge him, as they will, we’ll set it up appropriately. For now, next to James, he is the best person I have to keep these camps running so we can efficiently take out the threat.”
“One more question before we discuss what happened to me while I was away, which I know you want to hear sooner than later,” I said. “You keep referring to this threat as a ‘priestess.’ Do you know for sure that’s what she is?”
My father shook his head. “I’m not sure of anything, but I refer to her as that because that’s what Redman called her. When I came down here the first time and tried to talk some sense into the Southern Pack, he insisted that she had been in ‘his’ territory for years and that they previously had an understanding. She kept to herself and they left her alone. That’s how the fracture wolves knew how to find her. She’s a legend in these parts.”
“And he said ‘priestess’ for sure?” I asked.
“He said something like that, but mainly he called her a nuisance. Why do you ask?”
“Because Marcy seems to think she’s not a priestess, but something more powerful.”
“And what would that be?”
“A sorceress.”
8
“A sorceress?” My father scratched his head. “I guess that makes some sense given she can make rabid wolves. My understanding of priestesses is that they feed the ghosts they worship or some such nonsense. I’ve never paid much attention.”
“I don’t know the role a priestess plays, but in voudoun Marcy said the sorceresses are called bokors.” I wished Marcy was here to explain, but I would do my best to relay her thoughts.
“That sounds about right. I’ve heard of them before, but only vaguely.” My father shifted in his tiny seat.
Rourke cleared his throat. “I’m not up on the practices of Haitian voodoo in the last few hundred years, but I agree with Marcy’s assessment. I’m somewhat familiar with voudoun. I know it started in the Congo at least a thousand years ago, and from what I’ve heard on my travels, a bokor does indeed specialize in mind control. I’m not sure if the creatures they puppet are dead or cursed, but it seems to fit the bill here. They also use fetishes. It’s their specialty. I know this because some supernaturals are willing to pay large sums of money to procure them.”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about an object—that kind of fetish?” Danny asked. “Or are they just really into certain things, like feet or belly buttons? I can totally understand the belly button part, because who doesn’t love a good navel? But feet? No, sir, I’ve never been a fan.”
Rourke arched an eye at Danny. “They trap magic into objects to enhance their power when they need it later. No navels.”
I drummed my fingers on the table. “So this is another supernatural who can harness power and magic?”
My mate turned to me, his face grim. “There are no accidents or coincidences where you’re concerned, Jess. I believe that. Like Eudoxia said in the Underworld, the fact that we’re where we are right now is not a mistake. This bokor is aware of you. My guess is she knew you’d show up eventually if she kept sending rabid wolves out. The minute we entered her territory, she let you in, and when you left, she gave you an ominous message. None of that was a mistake.”
“What did this sorceress say?” my dad asked, leaning forward.
“She said that we would meet again soon,” I answered. “And she called me a wild animal in some kind of Creole. Naomi heard it.”
My father raked a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “If she’s a bokor, and those Made wolves are dead, this just became more complicated. Dammit.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I wanted to eradicate this threat and be home before you arrived back from the Underworld, but that clearly didn’t happen. So here we sit, playing chess with a sorceress who wants to harm my daughter by draining her power.”
“A sorceress who’s likely been playing games with us since before Stuart brought his ragtag pack of wolves to her doorstep,” I said. “She must have taken one look at him and saw her opportunity. She set this up so we’d be forced to come here, and if she can pull power or magic out of me, there’s no doubt she’ll try.”
“The question is, how do we fight her?” Tyler asked. “Do we know enough about her magic to gain an advantage?”
My father shook his head. “No, we don’t know anything about her, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find a way to best her. I’ll put a call in to Devon as soon as I can. He’s been busy gathering information from a home base in Florida. But before we try to figure out a game plan, I need both of you to fill me in on what happened while you were in the Underworld. I can sense your signature change, Jessica”—he leaned over, his eyes grave as they met mine—“and your power feels layered. I need to know what’s going on.”
“Of course,” I said. I had so much to share. “Is this the only place we can talk?” I glanced around at the small space. “Where do you eat and sleep?”