Read This Wicked Game Page 14


  Claire should have been surprised. Calling on the assistance of the loas—the spirit beings said to aid practitioners of voodoo in their spells, potions, and ceremonies—was something she’d never believed in. Sure, everyone in the Guild did it, from the leadership right down to everyday people who purchased supplies.

  But Claire had always thought of it as a meaningless ritual. Like saying amen after a prayer or asking God to help you, when the truth was, there was no way to be sure anyone was even listening.

  Yet somehow, she wasn’t at all surprised to hear that Max could summon the loas, wasn’t even surprised that she believed he could. Max seemed bigger than all of them, and Eddie suddenly seemed like a more reliable witness than anyone in the Guild.

  “And that was unusual?” Xander asked. “That kind of power?”

  Eddie nodded. “Still is, my man. Still is.”

  “What does all of this have to do with your decision to leave the Guild?” Claire asked.

  “Max’s need to save Elisabeta was toxic. It polluted the air around him until you could feel it, like a thundercloud that followed him wherever he went. Petitioning the Guild for permission to use black magic was just a way to gain access to the ingredients he needed. But everyone knew it was a formality. He was already trying to work the spells on his own. Those of us with a sensitivity to the dark side of our craft could feel it on him.” He paused.

  “Max was the only Houngan who ever truly scared me, and my family’s been in voodoo for almost two hundred years. When Max said he’d get his revenge on the Guild families, I didn’t doubt it, and without the Guild’s permission to use black magic to bring him under control, there was nothing to stop him. The way I saw it, Max was just the beginning. If the Guild wasn’t prepared to address a threat like him, who’s to say there wouldn’t be bigger and badder threats later on?” He shook his head. “There was no upside to staying with the Guild and a whole lot of downside, so I left. The craft’s a part of my life. I can take or leave the Guild. One is not dependent on the other.”

  Claire wondered if she would be as nonchalant as Eddie if the Guild ceased to be a part of her life. Of course, Xander and Sasha would always be her friends. Her parents would always love her. But what about everyone else?

  “So why do they . . .” Claire paused, not sure how to pose her question.

  He laughed. “Why do they call me Crazy Eddie?”

  She smiled, nodding.

  “The easiest way to make sure no one follows my example is to cast me as a nutcase. I’ll bet a few high-ranking people called me crazy a couple of times and the Guild gossip mill took it and ran with it.” He laughed again. “Damn! I’m probably a legend now, am I right?”

  Claire smiled again. “Kind of.”

  Eddie nodded, his voice growing serious. “Max has to be dealt with. You do know that, right?”

  He was right, but they couldn’t exactly fight Max, using the craft or anything else, if they didn’t know what he had in mind, and it’s not like they could call the police and demand they arrest him for maybe casting evil spells.

  Even if they caught him in the act, voodoo wasn’t a crime.

  As if he could read her mind, Xander answered. “We’re working on it. But the Guild isn’t going to be any help.”

  “You ask them about it?”

  Xander shook his head. “Not in so many words, but I think it’s safe to say they’re not going to change anytime soon. Not even to deal with Max.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  Xander sighed. “We don’t have one. Not really. Except . . .” He shot Claire a look.

  “Except?” Eddie prodded.

  “We found some things,” Claire said. “In the house they’re staying in.”

  “In the house they’re staying in?” Admiration flashed in Eddie’s eyes. “Well, well, well. Seems this litter of firstborns might have some teeth. So are we done?” He leaned forward. “Or are you going to fill me in?”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Claire told him all about the house on Dauphine, the travel itineraries, the pictures of the Guild firstborns, the letters, and the panther blood. Then she told him about the old photograph and the dream she’d had with the insight potion, the little girl she could only assume was Elisabeta staring balefully into the camera, as if she was watching her own death in its lens.

  Eddie was silent for a good minute before he spoke. “These letters . . . Do you have them with you?”

  Claire shook her head. “I left them at home.”

  It had never occurred to her that Eddie would be so normal, let alone that he would be able to help them decode the letters.

  He nodded, deep in thought. “You planning on telling the Guild what you’re up to?”

  “We haven’t decided,” Xander said.

  “We figured it would be best to get as much information as we can first. It’ll be harder for them to blow us off if we already know everything,” Claire added.

  “I can’t say that I disagree,” Eddie said. He was opening his mouth to say something else when a raspy, demanding voice sounded from the front of the house.

  “Eddie? Is it time for my pills?”

  It was Miss Thelma, calling to Eddie from the front porch.

  Eddie glanced down at the old watch that encircled his left wrist. “Excuse me a minute.”

  Claire watched Eddie leave the room, waiting until she heard the screen door slam to turn to Xander.

  “I think we should ask him to help us.”

  “Who? Eddie?” Xander asked.

  “Think about it,” she said. “He was part of the Guild so he knows how things work, but he’s just as frustrated as we are with it.”

  Xander raised his eyebrows. “‘We?’”

  Claire sighed. “Yes, ‘we.’ Just because I don’t believe in voodoo doesn’t mean I don’t care about stopping someone like Max. Call it whatever you want, but Eddie’s right; the Guild could put a stop to it when they hear about someone like Max, and they don’t. I may not be a fan of the Guild, but if they’re going to be around, they’d be better off listening to people like Eddie and Allegra when it comes to dealing with crazies like Max.”

  “Okay, but what would we need Eddie to do, exactly?”

  “I think we should ask him what to do next. Maybe we need a fresh perspective. Someone who’s not so close to it all. And who knows? His background on Max could come in handy, too.” She remembered something. “Speaking of which, you haven’t asked him about your mom.”

  Xander’s eyes darkened. “I’m getting to it.”

  “All right, then, Aunt Thelma,” Eddie was saying. “You just sit there with your tea. I’ll be out to check on you when the young people leave.”

  The screen door slammed again. Eddie’s footsteps grew louder as he came nearer to the kitchen.

  Claire looked into Xander’s eyes. “So?”

  He only hesitated a minute. “Okay.”

  “Sorry about that,” Eddie said, re-entering the kitchen and taking his seat. “Aunt Thelma likes to pretend she doesn’t remember anything, but she keeps me on my toes. Now where were we?”

  “I just had one more question. About Max.” Claire heard the strain in the too-casual tone of Xander’s voice. “Was he . . . involved with anyone while he was here? Anyone from the Guild?”

  “What? Romantically?” Eddie shook his head. “Not a chance. Max was too busy trying to save Elisabeta. He didn’t have time for tomcatting. In fact, I’d say he was as straight as a monk. Except for that black magic thing.”

  The relief was visible on Xander’s face.

  Eddie looked puzzled by the question but let it go. “Anything else I can do for you two?”

  Claire glanced at Xander, wanting to make sure he hadn’t changed his mind about Eddie, before she spoke again.

  “Actually, we w
ere kind of hoping you would be willing to help us figure this all out.”

  Eddie’s nod was slow. “I was kind of hoping you’d ask.”

  “Did you have the right address for Crazy Eddie?” Sasha asked as soon as they sat down at their usual table.

  It took Claire a minute to reconcile the image that automatically came to mind when someone said “Crazy Eddie” with the reasoned, intelligent person she and Xander had met in Treme.

  “No,” Claire said. “But he’d only moved a few blocks.”

  “So you found him?”

  Claire nodded.

  “What was he like?” Sasha asked.

  “Not what we expected,” Xander said.

  Allegra looked confused. “What do you mean? The guy’s a legend.”

  “He’s . . . normal,” Claire said.

  “Normal?”

  Claire shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Then why was he kicked out of the Guild?” Sasha asked.

  “He wasn’t kicked out,” Claire said. “He left.”

  “Why would he do that?” Allegra asked. “Why would anyone?”

  “Because of Maximilian.”

  “Wait . . .” Allegra looked confused. “What does Max have to do with Crazy Eddie leaving the Guild?”

  Claire and Xander filled them in. Claire was glad to set the record straight about Eddie after the Guild’s hatchet job on his character. Sasha and Allegra would find out the truth soon anyway, but in some strange way, Claire felt like she owed it to Eddie to come to his defense.

  “So Maximilian’s back to get revenge on the Guild,” Sasha said quietly. “It’s kind of sad, when you think about it. About his daughter.”

  “I know what you’re saying,” Xander said. “But it’s hard to be sad for the guy when he’s breaking into our houses and planning to hex us all.”

  “You know what I mean. Elisabeta was his daughter. Are you saying you wouldn’t use the craft to save someone you love? Even if the Guild forbade it?”

  Xander’s eyes slid to Claire. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “So Crazy Eddie—” Allegra started.

  “I don’t think we should call him that anymore,” Claire interrupted. “He’s not crazy.”

  Allegra sighed. “Whatever. The point is, he agreed with me. Even back then, he thought the Guild should be doing more with their power.”

  Claire nodded. “Yep.”

  “Did he have any idea what Max might be up to? What he might do to get back at the Guild?”

  “We didn’t get that far,” Xander said. “But you can ask him yourself.”

  Sasha frowned. “What do you mean? How would we do that?”

  “Easy.” Xander turned to the window, tapping on it until Eddie, standing outside the Cup, turned to him with a nod. Xander waved him in. “Like that.”

  Sasha and Allegra watched dumbfounded through the window as Eddie made his way into the Cup. He cut an imposing figure as he maneuvered his way through the crowd to their table.

  Xander and Claire stood up.

  “Eddie” —Xander gestured to the two girls— “Sasha Drummond and Allegra St. Martin. Allegra and Sasha, meet Eddie Clement.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  “Now what?” Sasha asked.

  It had taken ten minutes for Sasha and Allegra to lose the look of shock on their faces and another twenty for Eddie to answer their questions. A lot of it was a repeat of what Claire and Xander told them when they’d first arrived, but Allegra and Sasha wanted to hear it straight from Eddie. He didn’t seem to mind.

  “I stopped to pick up the letters so Eddie could read them, too,” Claire finally said. She reached into her bag. “Maybe he’ll be able to tell us what they have to do with Max and Eugenia.”

  Claire handed the letters to Eddie and sat back, watching as his eyes skimmed the pages. Xander tapped his fingers impatiently on the table while Sasha and Allegra eyed Eddie with thinly veiled curiosity.

  Finally, Eddie looked up, his eyes shaded with concern.

  “Well? Do you know what they mean?” Claire asked.

  Eddie looked nervously around the Cup before returning his eyes to them. “We can’t talk about this here.”

  They decided to go to the library on Carrolton. For a New Orleans library, voodoo research wasn’t exactly out of the norm. It was the closest they could come to a place where they could talk freely.

  They entered through the glass doors, making their way past the main desk to one of the empty tables near the back.

  Once they were settled, Eddie pulled out the letters he’d been carrying since they left the Cup.

  “I’m assuming you’ve all read these,” he said, looking at each of them.

  They nodded.

  “We get the gist of it,” Claire said. “This woman named Sorina wanted revenge for something that happened to her parents. So she contacted Marie and asked for information about some kind of black magic spell called Cold Blood.”

  “Except Marie shut her down, because, duh, Marie didn’t approve of black magic,” Allegra continued.

  “But she must have tried spells out on her own,” Claire said. “Otherwise, why would the Guild expel her?”

  “That’s what I don’t get,” Sasha said. “Why would Sorina even need Marie’s spell? If Sorina knew the craft, couldn’t she just create one of her own?”

  “She could,” Eddie said. “But it would be like baking bread without a recipe. Could you do it and come up with something approximating bread? Maybe. But even if it worked, it probably wouldn’t be as good as something tried and true.”

  “He’s right,” Allegra agreed. “And the spells for black magic are trickier than most.” She sighed. “Come on, Sash. You know this.”

  Sasha looked offended. “This is . . . you know. Technical stuff. I know what ingredients to mix together for which spells and I remember most of the words for conjuring, but don’t ask me about all the rules. I don’t pay attention to that kind of thing.”

  Eddie snorted.

  “What?” Allegra said.

  He leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “This is what I’ve been saying; the Guild hasn’t prepared you for this kind of attack. They expose you to the craft—and all kinds of people who practice it—and don’t teach you to defend yourselves. To defend your families and the Guild.” He made a sound that clearly expressed his exasperation. “It’s negligence, plain and simple.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying!” Allegra crowed, looking at Eddie like he was her new best friend.

  Eddie shook his head. “Do they bother training you at all? Teach you ways to make your recipes stronger? Show you how to build your own spells? To figure out where your gifts lie?”

  “Our parents teach us stuff when we’re little,” Sasha said. “Like . . . which ingredients go into which spell and stuff.”

  “Ingredients,” Eddie repeated, disbelieving. “Well, that’s one way to handle training, but it’s not going to get you very far with someone like Max.”

  “I guess, in eighteen eighty if you wanted a foolproof spell for black magic, Marie would have been the one to go to,” Claire said, trying to turn the conversation back to the letters. It’s not that she didn’t agree with Eddie and Allegra. But they had more immediate problems than the Guild’s training practices and its relevance in modern society.

  “In any year,” Xander corrected her. “I mean, not to brag, but the Toussaints are pretty well known for the strength of our spells. But they don’t hold a candle to Marie’s, even after all these years.”

  “So let’s get this straight,” Sasha said. “Sorina wanted Marie’s spell for revenge, but Marie wouldn’t give it to her.”

  “Right,” Xander said. “But Sorina had an idea of what was required, and she kept experimenting until she got it right.”

 
; “And the Guild disavowed her,” Claire said softly. “Just like Maximilian.”

  “Except unlike Sorina, Maximilian never mastered the black magic spell he needed,” Eddie reminded them. “Not in time anyway. Elisabeta died.”

  “Well, I think it’s safe to say that he mastered something. Otherwise, why would he be here targeting the Guild?” Allegra asked.

  Claire reached for the letters, dropping her eyes to the slanted writing. She flipped through the pages, searching for a paragraph in the final letter.

  “This is the part I don’t understand.” She lowered her voice as she recited the words. “‘It was never my intention that my spells and potions be used for ill. I have uncovered keys to the craft’s darkest door only to foil those with a less altruistic view of it, hoping to have some defense should it be used as a means to harm others. It is a heavy burden to know that my attempts at safeguarding the world from those who would use the craft for evil have instead caused that evil to be unleashed.’” Claire looked at Eddie. “It almost sounds like the Cold Blood spell was Marie’s to start with.”

  Eddie nodded. “It probably was.”

  Xander shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. Like Allegra said, Marie didn’t condone the use of black magic.”

  “You know how doctors develop vaccines?” Eddie asked them. “For diseases and such?”

  “Sure,” Xander said. “They use a weakened or dead form of the microbe that causes the disease to create a kind of antidote.”

  “In other words, you have to understand the disease to create a cure,” Eddie said.

  “Wait a minute . . .” Claire said. It was starting to come together. “You’re saying Cold Blood was Marie’s spell, but she only created it as a way to make a counterspell in case someone else discovered it?”

  “Can’t fight what you don’t know,” Eddie said.

  Claire was beginning to see his point.

  She sighed, turning her attention back to the final letter. “That leaves this then: ‘I can only appeal to the all-powerful loas to accept an addendum to the Cold Blood spell. One that will require an ingredient you will never obtain.’” She looked at Eddie. “What does it mean?”