Raging Inferno (Delphine Rising Book 1), page 2
Okay, I’m in a scary house. I’m in the body of a murderess, well, the embodiment of evil, yet I’m near drooling over her décor. I seriously need to get a grip and find out why I’m here and get home—quick.
Wait… Why is it so quiet here? Eerily quiet.
I stepped away from the lavish room, cleared my awestruck mind and headed back into the foyer. I saw a set of stairs off to the corner. I shook my sweaty hands and took a deep, soothing breath and began to climb the rod iron, spiral staircase. With each step, it felt as if I were wading in black tar and breathing rotten eggs. I wanted to vomit. I almost turned back, but something inside told me this was where I must go if I sought to find my way out. Filthy, dark magic saturated the air; it almost suffocated me entirely. I wanted none of it.
“If this is some kind of sick joke, whoever you are, kiss my witchy ass and screw you!” I shouted.
I’d had enough of this crap. First, some kind of freaky, hollow-eyed, whatever the hell that was tried to burn me alive from the inside out. Then the damn talisman started chanting my name, now this?
“Fu— What?”
Laughter, creepy-ass laughter touched my ears from the top of the stairs. It was coming from an open door down the hall; it looked like a bedroom to me. I began to panic a bit, cut off from my tirade and I was just getting started, thank you very much. I’ll be damned if the creepy laugh didn’t twinkle again. When I described it as a “twinkle,” I was totally being sarcastic. It was flippin’ psychotic! The tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end and I swear I felt icy tendrils—fingers, touch my back. I was officially wishing for Dorothy’s red, sparkly slippers right then, because there was no place like home.
I forced one foot in front of the other, taking shallow, even breaths to remember exactly who I was once more.
“I will go into that bedroom and I will face whatever this is. I’m a witch. Mom always says to rely on your true gifts given to you by the ancestors and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. I will not fear this dark magic, even if it is Marie Delphine herself. I’m powerful in my own right. I may be wearing her nasty ol’ body, but I’m still Abigail Marie Blanque,” I said, giving myself the pep talk I needed.
I hope I can access some sort of magic here or at least kick ass the old fashioned way. Well, I have to see what I’m dealing with first. One thing at a time. Just breathe, Abby.
I reached the open door and, sure enough, it was a bedroom, furnished just as I would’ve imagined. A massive, wooden, four-poster French bed, draped in red silk coverings and piled high with matching pillows interlaced with gold thread, took up the middle of the room. The finest, elaborately carved, wooden vanity with matching mirror…
I’ve seen enough. No way am I getting sucked into the beauty of yet another room. Especially when said room has some laughing hyena hell-bent on scaring the life out of me… but her affinity for red and gold is seriously overrated.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are. I’m here. What, no laughing in my face?” I taunted.
Crickets…
“Seriously? Creepy laughing? That’s all you’ve got? And here I thought you might be something ‘daaark and ominous.’ You’re nothing but sound effects!” I shouted, as I spun in a half circle with my arms splayed out, looking toward the ceiling.
To my left, I saw a spectrum of light reflecting off of the wall. I searched the room to see where it was coming from—the vanity.
“Holy Shit! The talisman!” I shrieked, covering my mouth at the same time.
How could I have missed it during my first examination of this godforsaken room?
Chapter 3
I nearly choked; it was just lying there as if it were merely a necklace to dress up an outfit, all in its amethyst, diamond-encrusted glory, hanging by a roped, golden chain. It began pulsing with light and I jumped back. Hair-raising laughter commenced again, but this time inside my head. I covered my ears to drown it out, but it did nothing to stop it—her. It was Delphine. I knew it.
I thundered an earth-shattering scream, “Get out of my head!”
Silence…
Black smoke ascended from the talisman and began to take on a female shape. I blinked to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Dark brown hair, piled upon her head, showcased her sharp cheekbones and exotic features. Deep brown, almost black eyes, contrasted her olive skin tone and full, red lips, as if she hadn’t aged a day over thirty. No way!
Marie Delphine LaLaurie elegantly stepped away from fading, black smoke, wearing an extravagant red evening gown, with a plunging, sweetheart neckline and a long, revealing slit up the left side of her leg leaving nothing to the imagination. You could almost see her ass.
Seriously? That isn’t nineteenth century attire…
With a slow clap and wide smile stretched across her evil face, she began to glide toward me. “I didn’t think ya had it in ya, girl. You look good wearing me. Unfortunately for you, I’ll be wearing your skin soon,” she said, with her left hip cocked to the side and hand perched upon her cinched waist, displaying a devilish smile I couldn’t wait to rip off her stupid face.
That’s it. “Look, bitch! You may be my ancestor, but you chose the wrong side. I might be ‘wearing your body’ as you so eloquently put it, but believe me when I tell you: My body belongs to me and only me. You can’t have it and I’ll fight you until my dying breath,” I said, feeling magic rising in my core, something I didn’t think, only hoped was possible in this alternate universe.
“Oh child, that’s where you’re wrong.” She paused, tsk-ing, wagging her pointer finger in my direction. “I already have it. Every moment you’re here, bits of your essence are channeled into my talisman, making me stronger by the minute.
“Did you really think that fire was real?” She evil laughed at me this time. “Once you touched the talisman, you became trapped in my little illusion of… paradise,” she said, throwing her right arm out dramatically.
I wanted to punch her smug, evil ass in the throat.
I stood shock-still taking it all in, but careful not to give my emotions away. Inside, I’ll admit, I was beginning to feel a little terrified, but I let her continue as I allowed my mind to think of possible solutions to getting out of her illusion from hell.
“Out of all the souls I’ve stolen to fill the talisman’s magic, along with my essence of course, none will be as strong as yours. Soon, I’ll not only have my magic, but yours as well and a perky, twenty-four-year-old body to go along with it. New Orleans won’t know what hit it—literally.” She threw her head back and cackled.
During her rant, I channeled all of my magic and called upon my ancestors to guide me from that evil place, to give me strength to break the spell of illusion.
I looked down, picking at my—her—nails as if I was bored. “Are you done yappin’ yet? That was some kind of monologue. How long have you been playin’ that over and over in that crazy-ass mind of yours? It must get quite lonely and maddening not having any real power or a real body for that matter. Pity,” I said, with a pouty lip.
“You see, there’s a tiny flaw in your ‘well-crafted’ little plan. I’m not playing,” I said with my— her—sweetest, fake smile. I felt the ancestors’ magic pulsing inside of me, ready to ignite at my call.
She looked behind her at the now dull talisman, seeing for herself my essence was staying put. She no longer had the upper hand. “Impossible…” she breathed.
I tried my best evil laugh using her stupid voice and said, “Not impossible. I’m just better than you. I also have one thing you’ll never have: the love of our ancestors and their magic, even in this dreamed up, hellhole you call an illusion. You lose.” I winked, just to be a snarky bitch. Because, well… I am who I am, even in her disgusting form.
I pushed my magic out, breathed in deeply and spread my hands around in a wide circular formation around me before pushing forward once more. Deep yellow, blue and white hues exploded like sunrays around the room, cracking away the illusion like a broken mirror.
I heard a deep, guttural scream. “Nooooo!” I cracked a grin, as I felt the magic working. I continued pushing my magic outward, using the same repetitive motion until blackness consumed me.
***
I awoke to my Mom’s concerned, green eyes. She was holding my head in her lap saying something, but everything sounded as if I were underwater. I closed my eyes again. Mom gently slapped my face and yelled, “Abigail! Wake up, child!”
I heard that clearly. I turned my face so I was able to look at her and attempted to speak, but only a croaking sound made its way out.
Great. Did the old witch take my voice like that half-octopus witch, what’s-her-name, on The Little Mermaid?
Yes. I watch Disney movies. Don’t judge.
Maybe she took too much of my essence before I was able to center my magic.
This can’t be good.
I tried to shift around, but Mom wasn’t having any of it. She had a ninja death grip on me. She pinched the inside of my arm and twisted the most sensitive part. I jerked up and shouted, “What the hell, Mom? That freakin’ hurt! Damn, that’s gonna bruise.”
Mom actually laughed at me. Had she lost her mind while I was trapped in my own personal hell?
Is this “Play Pranks on Abby Day”? If so, the party’s over folks. I’m outa here!
“I thought that might wake you up.” Mom chuckled.
I glared.
I gazed around and found myself on the floor of our now-pristine shop. The old hag was right. The fire, everything, was a freakin’ illusion. Well, thank the blessed ancestors for helping me out of that mess. Now Mom was giving me her inquisitive stare, the one where it seemed like she could see into my soul.
It’s creepy when she does that shit.
“What?” I asked innocently.
“What? I find my daughter out cold on the shop floor, for ancestors know how long, and you ask me, what?” she shrieked, cheeks flaring red.
Uh oh… Mom’s pissed.
I leaned back slowly, and carefully tried to formulate the most logical answer that wouldn’t send me straight to the insane asylum. “Um… I fell?”
By the look in Mom’s crazed eyes, that was the wrong answer. Her silver-streaked, black hair whipped across her face so fast, I thought I was about to witness a repeat of Linda Blair in The Exorcist.
“I saw the magic, Abby. Don’t play games with me. You were screaming so loud, I thought someone was trying to kill you. I found you lying here on the floor, out cold, glowing in a dark magical aura. I want an explanation. No. I deserve an explanation. Are you on drugs?”
“Drugs? What the..? Are you serious right now?” I cried, barely able to contain my shaking hands. “Have you ever known me to take drugs, magical or otherwise? Hell no, you haven’t! If I told you what really happened, you’d think I’d lost my mind. So, excuse me if I want to take some time to breathe. I just woke up from a living, freakin’ nightmare!”
I stood, wiped the tears from my face and started to walk away from her. Mom grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug. “Oh, Abby. I was so worried. I thought you might not make it. I didn’t know what to do. It was as if you were in a trance, lost to me and the outside world.” Her tiny, five-foot-three frame began to shake uncontrollably as she sobbed into my chest.
I felt like the world’s worst daughter. I knew I should tell her what happened. It was possible we were all in danger with Marie Delphine’s essence, spirit or whatever, lurking around trying to steal my magic, body and soul. If she couldn’t get to me, she might try the next best thing: my little sister, Elizabeth.
At twenty-one, she was tall, five foot eight, and had long, dark brown waves stretching down her back; her olive skin tone and angelic face highlighted her killer, cat eyes that glowed almost yellow in the light with dark green hues above her plump, pink lips. If that wasn’t enough, she had a thin frame with a great rack and booty to match. A natural beauty Delphine would love to get her nasty essence into. Over my dead body!
Did I mention I loved to hate her? Well, her body anyway. It wasn’t natural to be built that well. She was a freak of nature. She could eat what she wanted and maintain washboard abs, never touching a gym. If I looked at a greasy cheeseburger I would gain ten pounds. We were built basically the same, except I was slightly larger—okay, by two sizes—and I had to work at it. It’s not fair. Oh well, she would always be my beautiful cherub and I’d do anything to protect her. She wasn’t just my little sister, she had become my best friend.
I peeled Mom away, held her shoulders and looked down into her glowing, green eyes. “I need to tell you what really happened, but you’ll want to sit down,” I said in a near whisper.
It was as if Elizabeth had supersonic radar, bouncing down the stairs in all her peppiness. “Did I hear my name? What’s going on? What did I miss? Wait…Why is Mom crying and why do you look like shit?”
“Elizabeth! Language!” Mom scolded her, while I tried to hold back a snicker.
Elizabeth cut her cat eyes toward me with a glare and huffed, “Well, it’s true. Abby looks like she’s been rode hard and put away wet. Just sayin’.” She flipped her shiny, dark brown hair and flopped down on the sofa, propping her knee-high, black leather boots on Mom’s serving table she reserved for customers. Then proceeded to file her nails.
Dramatic much? But I had to admit, the girl had style. She was a diva in every sense of the word, with her unbelievably high-heeled boots, leather pants and sexy tops that always made her eyes pop, and she kicked some serious ass while keeping her perfect manicure in place. She constantly made me smile, even when I didn’t want to.
I looked at Mom and said, “The gang’s all here. Might as well let Liz join us as we venture into crazy town.”
Mom scoffed, and I plopped down next to Sis, while Mom sat across from us in her favorite white wicker chair.
Chapter 4
I started from the beginning, leaving no detail out, not even the hollow-eyed, creepizoid in the tomb. That was where it all began and it had to have some kind of significance. If anyone would know, my mother, Jaqueline Francis Blanque, would, or at least how to find out.
When I reached the end, retelling how I gathered my strength and powers from the ancestors to break the illusion and the power Marie Delphine held over me, my mother gasped. I thought she might fall out of her chair. I looked at her with a “What?” face. She started muttering something in French under her breath and made the sign of the cross.
“Um… Did I do something wrong?” I asked wearily.
Mom started shaking her head wildly without speaking. Sis and I looked at each other and shrugged. We had no idea what was going on inside her mind, but something was seriously freaking her out.
Finally she spoke in a low, calculated voice. “No witch has ever been able to break a Delphine illusion, let alone call upon the ancestors while in an alternate plane of existence. What you did, Abby, should be impossible, unless…” She broke off in thought. “Your father!”
At this point, Liz and I stared at Mom like she’d just lost her last scruple. Paul Pierre Blanque, our father, died in a fire eighteen years ago. Yes, he was a direct descendant of Marie Delphine’s son, Jeanne Pierre Paulin Blanque, and he held strong magical powers, but he never dared dabble in the dark arts. He was a good man. He practiced the magic of the ancients, of our ancestors. That’s how he and our mother met, both powerful witches from strong magical backgrounds. They were soul mates.
“Mom, I don’t understand,” I said.
Liz and I shared matching looks of confusion. Mom was visibly shaking now with giant tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were closed, as if she was caught up in a long-lost memory.
Liz knelt next to Mom’s chair. “Mamma? Are you okay? Please tell us what’s going on. If it affects Abby and me, we need to know…even if it is painful. What about Daddy, Mamma?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Mom kept shaking her head and began outwardly sobbing. I knelt on her other side and laid my head on her shoulder while Liz did the same, until the sobbing subsided.
Mom gently clutched both of our hands, looked up at us with red-rimmed eyes and said, “Girls, there’s something I need to tell you about your father’s death. I never thought the details of his death added up. There were rumors from our coven, but… I was just too consumed with grief to pay them any mind. Not until now.”
“But, Mamma, Daddy died in the fire at our home… His ashes? I don’t understand where this is coming from. What rumors?” Liz asked nervously.
Mom looked at both of us despairingly and asked us to sit down. By this time, Liz and I were near tears remembering the loss of our beloved father. He was such a kind and gentle man and he loved his little girls more than anything, next to Mamma. His family meant everything to him.
When we lost him, our world shattered. I still remember his handsome face: dark brown hair, the way he smiled and the laugh lines around his yellow-green eyes. His smile and boisterous voice could always light up a room wherever he went. Even though he died when we were very young, we still missed him. Mamma kept his memory alive in our hearts.
Mom leaned forward, placing her tiny hands in her lap and took a sharp breath. “Yes, there was a fire that claimed two lives that day, eighteen years ago. However, only one body was found.
“We were having brunch in the dining room when Paul”—Mom always called our father Paul—“and your Uncle Julian heard a ruckus upstairs in the old attic. I felt something off that day—a surge of unfamiliar magic—but I couldn’t place it, nor could I sense where it was coming from. I looked to Paul and he told me to keep you girls downstairs, regardless of what I heard. I think he felt it too.” She paused, taking a shuddery breath, looking down at her hands.
“Then I saw the plumes of smoke billowing down the stairs. I raced to the neighbors and asked them to keep an eye on you two. When I arrived back at the house, the smoke was near the foyer. I performed a spell to clear the air and proceeded toward the attic. That’s where I found my little brother, Julian, lying unconscious and not breathing on the steps. I tried to wake him, but I was too late; he had no heartbeat. He was already gone. I was heartbroken that I couldn’t save him…” she trailed off, allowing unshed tears to fall.
