Cursed by N. Isabelle Blanco

Author:N. Isabelle Blanco [Blanco, N. Isabelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

“Laveau?!” My scream shoots up and down the first floor of my home, ricocheting back to us. “Marie-fucking-Laveau?!”

The two women ahead of me share an amused glance, but they don’t pause to acknowledge me.

“This is some kind of joke,” I fume.

It’s not a joke. I know that.

What the fuck did I ever do to deserve my life being turned upside-down like this?

Oh, right. I sold my fucking soul. “But I was freaking high!” I shout, although this conversation is supposed to be taking place in my head.

My very fucked-up, possibly traumatized head.

“Is he high right now?” Marie asks my witch—who I’ve decided needs a fucking nickname since she won’t tell me her actual name.

For now, Brat will do nicely.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. It is a huge part of his history. Old habits die hard and all that.”

Another invasion; the proof that she knows way too much about my past grinds me raw. “Funny how you’ve seen that part of my history—”

“I’ve seen way too many pieces of that.” They turn into my kitchen, where they both pause to stare at the large size of it.

“Save it. I’ve seen where your coven is,” I snap at them. I will no longer be judged for living in luxury.

Or for selling my soul to get there.

Their kind dangled the offer in front of me, while I was fucking blitzed and desperate.

“You act all fucking high and mighty compared to me—”

“As ridiculous as this all is”—the brat waves a ringed-finger around the two-hundred square foot kitchen—“your money isn’t the problem, werewolf. You sold your soul to cheat your way to the top.”

I sold my soul so I could have a shot at you! Although I believed her to be a figment of my imagination. “I sold my soul to escape my miserable life, but if you want to get technical, I went along because I thought I was hallucinating off the fucking drugs.”

A stillness falls over the two women in the kitchen, although I can’t really look at the one claiming to be the infamous Marie Laveau alive and in the flesh. I hear the bones of the skeletal bracelet around her wrist clicking together as she turns to the other witch. “They’re allowing those types of deals now? Child, I know I’ve been gone nearly fifty-years, but I never thought they’d fall that far.”

The brat throws a scowl my way, bristling from head to toe. “Of course they aren’t allowing that. He’s lying.”

The sudden tension in the room makes no sense to me. They’re both acting like me being intoxicated changes the reality of whether I sold my soul or not. It’s a done deal . . . isn’t it? “I don’t have a reason to lie. I was high off my ass. You saw for yourself, didn’t you? I was always high in those days.”

Marie slaps her staff onto the kitchen island. “Alright, child. It’s time we consider this deal might be rotten.”

“I’m telling you! He’s lying. Seril knows damn well what the rules are.

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