Wicked Unveiled Read online

  Wicked Unveiled

  Hidden Conduit Series Book Three

  J.N. Colon

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Read more from J.N. Colon

  About the Author

  Wicked Unveiled © copyright 2019 J.N. Colon

  www.jncolon.com

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Evangeline made another deal with the voodoo king. And there’s no getting out of it this time.

  Baron Samedi wants Angel’s soul, and he’s using her sister to get it. With a countdown clock hanging over her head, Etie will stop at nothing to defeat the dark deity once and for all. But messing with voodoo’s scales of light and dark could have consequences no one is prepared to face.

  And other witches are beginning to feel the conduit’s power. They want her. No matter the cost.

  With voodoo’s Festival of the Dead fast approaching, the day Baron Samedi demands a choice, Angel and Etie search for answers among enemies.

  But who can they really trust? And who’s lying in the shadows, waiting to attack when they least expect it?

  Chapter 1

  Blood pounded in my ears, slamming against my skull. My sister sat in the center of a voodoo ritual circle. The worst name she could have ever uttered during a summoning spell just spilled from her lips.

  This was a dream. A nightmare. No way in hell Marisol’s boyfriend was a voodoo caster who’d secretly been hexing her.

  I pinched myself. The horrific scene didn’t disappear.

  My lids squeezed shut, and I willed Ms. Delphine’s attic to vanish. I wasn’t really there. I was in my bed, and soon Etie would wake me from this fitful sleep. My worst fear wasn’t coming true. It was my demented imagination.

  I opened my eyes only to face the same frightening event. Jesse had put Marisol into a trance and tricked her into summoning Baron Samedi.

  Rum and sickly sweet cigar smoke spilled through the air, choking me. Cold sweat trickled down my spine, and not a drop of moisture remained in my mouth.

  The voodoo king was coming.

  “W-What’s going on?” The haze began to melt from Marisol’s brown eyes.

  “Don’t you remember what you did, Mar?” A reptilian smile slowly split Jesse’s lips.

  “I don’t…” Her gaze drifted to the voodoo symbols drawn on the wooden floor and then up to me. “Angel?”

  My heart shattered into a million pieces. “Mar, I’m sorry.” I stepped forward, but an iron grip fastened around my bicep.

  “No, cher.” Etie’s gaze was fixed on the spot between Jesse and my sister. He pulled us both out of the circle. “It’s too late.”

  His form turned watery through my unshed tears. I thought the worst was behind me. Mere hours ago, I’d lain in Liseria’s basement after the shop owner of Madam Monnier’s and her blue-mohawked, evil sidekick had abducted me. My powers had been completely drained, and my life was fading.

  But my alimèt wouldn’t let me down.

  Etie had burst into the coven house like a wild force of nature with Henri, Lucas, and my father in tow. He saved my sorry butt again, and with the help of the mystical snake tattoo on his back, restored my powers.

  What good were my coveted powers if I couldn’t even save my sister from the mess I created? The voodoo king couldn’t have me so he was going to use Marisol any way he could until I surrendered.

  Thundering footsteps echoed on the stairs. Familiar figures appeared, a mixture of Wiccan and voodoo power swarming the attic. Henri took one look at the ritual circle and cursed. He knew exactly what—or rather who—was coming.

  “What’s going on?” My father’s baritone voice boomed against the walls so forcefully the hanging light fixture in the center swung through the air.

  Before anyone could answer, a deep laugh penetrated the room. Cigar smoke snaked around the ritual circle. Goosebumps popped along my flesh.

  The dark deity materialized next to my sister.

  She gasped and scrambled back.

  Baron Samedi lifted his hand. “Baryè.” The barrier Etie had dissolved reformed, separating Jesse, Marisol, and the voodoo king from us.

  I swallowed hard. Etie wouldn’t be able to break it again so easily.

  The white paint on the baron’s dark face was exceptionally garish in the dim, yellow light. “I didn’t know I was invited to a party.” The heavy Cajun accent dripped effortlessly from his lips, hypnotic and enchanting even. “I would have cleaned up.” He smoothed his long fingers over the silk lapel of his flashy black suit adorned with silver embellishments.

  A long string of Spanish—mostly curse words—spewed from Abuela.

  The baron’s obsidian eyes slid toward her, a smile tipping the edges of his lips. “That was impressive, madam.” He removed his hat and gave my grandmother a small bow. “Bonus points for the expert rolling of your R’s.”

  Her nostrils flared, and she stepped forward. “You’re going to regret ever messing with my family.”

  My mother grabbed her, yanking her to a stop. “Don’t, Milagro.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t make this worse.”

  Baron Samedi turned toward my sister, holding out his hand. “Shall we?”

  She shot to her feet and backed away, hitting the invisible barrier. Her eyes were wild. “I don’t understand. I thought I was protected.”

  “Ah, well, cher, that little protection spell the pouvior bokor performed on you means nothing if you call me yourself.” A cigar appeared between his fingers, and he put it to his lips. The cherry flamed like brimstone, and ash drifted to the floor.

  Marisol’s gaze turned pensive. Was she trying to remember how she ended up in Ms. Delphine’s attic?

  Acid flooded my stomach as I recalled the small clues that something was going on with my sister. I hadn’t imagined the Vondou coming from her room. The binds around her magic weren’t dissolving. It was Jesse. His voodoo had caused her to pass out in our attic.

  What else had that lying bastard done to her?

  Jesse slowly stood, his arrogant smirk directed my way. “There’s nothing you can do, Angel.”

  The lights began to flicker as my magic swirled to the surface. I wanted to rip that guy's throat out or, better yet, his family jewels. And then stomp them into dust.


  “Angeline,” Etie warned, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist.

  As it turned out, my sister didn’t need me to avenge her. Her frozen expression flared to life, her dark brown eyes burning with angry fire. She pivoted toward Jesse and rammed her foot between his legs.

  A sharp intake of air echoed from every male in the room, even the baron. Jesse’s knees hit the floor, and his body folded over, a muffled groan seeping out.

  “You asshole,” Marisol hissed. “You were tricking me this entire time! You’re not even related to Ms. Delphine, are you? Everything that came out of your mouth was a lie.”

  “Not everything,” he choked, a pained smile twitching his lips. “I really do think you’re amazing in the sack.”

  A meaty thud resonated as Marisol punched Jesse. His head whipped around, returning with crimson smeared across his mouth. She yanked her fist back for another attack when Baron Samedi caught her arm and hauled her away.

  Deep, skin-crawling chuckles mixed with the cigar smoke curling out of his mouth. “As much as I’m enjoying this, I can’t let you permanently maim one of my best followers.”

  Jesse shifted just as dark ink began to materialize on his neck, revealing Baron Samedi’s vevè. The tattoo of a skull atop a snake-wrapped cross marked him as a member of Louange le Noir.

  My jaw clenched so hard my teeth threatened to crack. I should have known. “You put Jesse on Marisol duty as a backup plan?” Baron Samedi always intended on using my sister to get to me if I slipped through his grasp.

  Etie’s fingers twitched on my wrist, warning me.

  Baron Samedi shrugged. “I like to be prepared.”

  A sudden wind whipped through the air. “You’re not taking my daughter anywhere.” My father’s eyes burned vivid violet.

  The voodoo deity cocked his head. “You can’t stop me, brujo. A soul for a soul, and since Eve-angel-ine defaulted on our deal, I must take your oldest. She should have come to the spirit world a long time ago. I’m just righting things.”

  “Please, don’t.” Tears spilled down my mother’s cheeks. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

  The baron took another puff off his cigar, his coal eyes lingering over me. “No, she doesn’t deserve this. Isn’t that right, Eve-angel-ine?”

  A massive knot fisted in my chest as his poisonous words sank through my gut. No, Marisol didn’t deserve this. Had I not asked him to heal her eight years ago, she’d be peacefully resting in the spirit world. Or if I hadn’t screwed up and just called Papa Legba like I was supposed to, none of this would be happening. We’d both be alive and fine.

  A bottle of rum appeared in the voodoo king’s hand. He swirled the liquid around, absentmindedly watching it. “I wouldn’t be opposed to offering another deal.”

  Etie instantly stiffened. “No.”

  An ominous smile curled the baron’s lips. “That ain’t your choice, boy.”

  Electricity slithered over Etie’s skin as he dipped into his power. “You can’t have Angeline. She’s already mine.”

  “If she comes to me willingly…” The baron’s chuckle sent chills down my neck. “I don’t need to own her soul. I just need access to it.”

  Blood drained from Etie’s cheeks, and his fingers turned cold on my wrist. “She wouldn’t allow that.”

  But the baron knew if he threatened my sister I would.

  The dark deity downed a gulp of rum, licking his lips. “Tell you what, cher. I’ll give you until Fete Gede to decide who’s coming with me. You or your sister.”

  I had no idea what or when Fete Gede was. I only knew I couldn’t let my sister take the fall for my mistakes.

  But if I gave myself over to the voodoo king, what would it do to Etie?

  I wasn’t ever going to know the answer to that. We were going to find a way out of this tangled web once and for all. Baron Samedi wasn’t getting either of us.

  Power pulsed from Etie as he anticipated my next move. His lips thinned. “Don’t you dare,” he growled low enough for my ears only.

  Air was squeezed from my lungs as I looked at my alimèt. The swirling tattoo above my collarbone seared to life. The gwo-bon lyen didn’t like what I was about to do any more than Etie did. But I had no choice. He had to know that.

  My heart broke again as I tore my gaze from Etie’s tortured expression. “Deal.”

  Protests exploded around the attic. Etie dropped my arm as a cold steel door slammed between us. I swallowed back the hard lump of regret trying to choke me. He was more than pissed. He was hurt.

  Marisol shook her head. “Angel, you can’t do this.”

  “Wonderful.” Baron Samedi placed the bottle of rum on the floor. As he stood, crimson leaked into his black irises.

  A bitter taste spilled over my tongue. Oh God. What was he up to?

  He grabbed my sister’s arm, and smoke sizzled through the air as she screamed. “Just a little something to keep the bokors from binding Marisol’s soul to someone.”

  My father darted forward, his body rebounding on the invisible barrier. “You’re going to pay for this.” His gaze landed on Jesse who was chugging the bottle of rum. “Both of you.”

  The baron released Marisol, revealing his vevè burned onto her wrist. “Her soul is mine now—unless your youngest relinquishes herself to me on the day of Fete Gede.”

  “Why Fete Gede?” Henri stalked forward, meeting the voodoo deity’s gaze without a drop of fear. “What do you got planned for the Festival of the Dead?

  A crooked smile hitched Baron Samedi’s lips. “Henri Benoit, the great Louange le Noir bokor.” A deep laugh rumbled out, clouds of smoke streaming from his mouth even though the cigar had disappeared. “It wasn’t long ago you were praising me.” He flicked his finger toward his vevè tattooed on Henri’s bicep. “You’re one of the leaders of voodoo who pushed more followers my way. And now you go against me?”

  An icy chill skittered down my spine. Henri was responsible for Louange le Noir shifting their focus to Baron Samedi instead of all voodoo gods?

  “People change.” Henri’s fingers curled into tight fists by his sides as if he wanted nothing more than to treat the deity like a punching bag.

  “Not people like you, Henri.” The baron’s gaze lingered over Etie’s father, something unreadable flashing through those dark irises. “Maybe one day I’ll let you back in my good graces.” He laid his hand on Jesse’s shoulder, shooting me a wink. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Eve-angel-ine.”

  The voodoo king flashed an ominous smile that promised more haunting visits to come. He and Jesse dematerialized in a puff of smoke.

  The invisible barrier separating Marisol from the rest of us finally crumbled. Feeling the release, she crossed over the ritual circle, bypassing my father and throwing her arms around our trembling mother. “It’s okay, Mom. We’ll figure this out.” Her gaze shifted toward me. “Right, Angel?”

  “Of course.” But a sour taste coated my throat. After everything that had happened, I was back to square one. The voodoo king wanted my soul, and he was using my sister to get to me.

  Chapter 2

  The air between Etie and I had cooled to subzero temperatures. He wouldn’t even spare me a glance, and I could feel the anger simmering below the surface. The fact that he was hiding it instead of yelling in a couple different languages was the most unsettling part.

  “I can’t believe I let that creep trick me.” Marisol shook her head from her spot at the small round table in our attic. “I should have known something was off when Ms. Delphine was always so dazed. She asked who he was about a dozen times.”

  I twisted the ends of my hair to keep from rubbing my toujou. “He fooled all of us, Mar. You couldn’t have known.”

  Etie had released the voodoo spells surrounding Ms. Delphine. She didn’t have any memory of Jesse or the last few weeks. She chalked it up to the sleeping pills Dr. Thatcher gave her.

  “When and what is Fete Gede?” Her thumb swept over Baron Samedi’s vevè br
anded into her wrist. The black lines of a snake wrapped around a cross with a skull peering over the top looked like any other tattoo. It wasn’t. Tingles of power emanated from it, power used to imprison my sister to the voodoo king.

  My blood boiled. He had this planned the entire time. I was never free of him. Not really.

  “Fete Gede is voodoo’s Festival of the Dead.” Etie hadn’t moved from his position against the wall near the door, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “It’s the day we honor our dead ancestors. All loa are involved, but as keeper of the dead, Baron Samedi holds a bigger role during ceremonies. He’s praised the most that day.”

  Oh, great. Of course the baron would pick the day he was worshipped the most. Did that give him an extra boost of power?

  “It’s the first day of November,” Etie continued, his gaze skimming over everything but me.

  I couldn’t blame him. How would I feel if he decided to sacrifice himself to save Bastien?

  Speaking of the handsome, amber-eyed devil…

  Bastien bounded into the attic. “I heard what happened.” He dropped into the seat next to Marisol and grabbed her arm, examining the mark. “That asshole.”

  “My words exactly,” she grumbled. “How is this thing any different than a regular tattoo? That scumbag Jesse has one and so does your dad, but I’m guessing mine isn’t quite like theirs.”

  Bastien’s lips thinned at the mention of his father. “No, cher, it ain’t the same.” He sighed and traced a circle around it. “The mark most members of Louange le Noir bare is only a tattoo. It’s branded on them during a ritual. It’s skin deep.”