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CHAPTER 51
I stared at Marie Laveau for a very long time. It was the only thing I could think to do, because words failed me.
The most well-known voodoo practitioner of our time; everyone in New Orleans knew her name. Anyone who practiced voodoo knew who she was. There were books written about her. Movies and television programs made about her. People worshiped her, visiting her grave every day in the hundreds to leave offerings in the hopes that she would bless them in return. Marie Laveau was an incredible woman, having left her mark in history. And not only was she my ancestor—not only did we share the same blood—but she was my djab; this woman chose me to follow in her afterlife. She chose me to guide.
Marie Laveau chose me.
Accounts of her physical appearance varied often; there weren't a
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I opened my eyes and recognized my surroundings. The room was dark, but I knew it was the bedroom Sajida allowed Mikael and I to stay in; I had no idea what day it was. My head throbbed and I was thirsty. These were the first two sensations that came to mind. I didn't remember the visions from my lave tet the first few moments of me coming into consciousness, which I was thankful for; I wanted at least a minute of sanity. But once that sanity ended, I was brought back into the harsh reality. I felt like I couldn't breathe. There were weights on my chest, it seemed. In this dark, sweltering heat, I was bombarded with images during my time with my met tet.
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** I had locked myself in the guest bedroom with the black box as my only form of company that night. No one came to me; I was left alone, which heightened my suspicions about the truth I had brought to them. I sat on the floor, still dressed in white and covered in dirt and dried sweat. The ball gown lied on the bed, staring back at me. I thought about trying it on; I didn't need to know how it fit, since Jeffrey assured me that the dress was correct to my measurements. But I wanted to see myself in this dress. Is this how Russell Van Doren remembered me one hundred and fifty years in the past—wearing this gown when it was common attire at the time? I expected Hezekiah to knock on the window and let himself in the room, trying to explain himself and his actions; his reasoning f
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** There were eyes on me from every corner of the room. All from different factions, and all for different reasons. Never would I think I would be at a level of such importance at a function such as this one—with vampires and witches and voodoo priestesses, all high and low in rank, but still more significant than me. However, I was more influential than I thought; I was more significant than I thought. And I was coming to terms with this newfound jump in rank. Yet it wasn't the time to bask in this new knowledge. I was here to find a different type of knowledge—from Abraham. It would be nearly impossible to find a good time to speak to Abraham and ask him what I wanted to know; there were people everywhere, and most of these people were infected with the disease that not only g
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** Abraham's hand was cold and lifeless, like the gradual shift of the air in the room. My hand looked small in his—puny. His fingers completely enveloped mine. The music, which was still playing, was a slow and almost melancholy piano number, however, Abraham wanted to dance to it, so we did. My left hand rested on his shoulder (which wasn't an easy feat; I had to stretch a bit) and his right hand rested directly underneath my arm. We started off slow; I followed his lead. My body was stiff out of extreme nervousness. I couldn't look at him; I looked at his bowtie, which was nearly eyelevel. He knew that I was overtaken with nerves; he could sense it. Smell it. We moved slowly in our little space, the entire world, it seemed, watching.
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** For some reason, I felt like I had been waiting for this meeting with Abraham my entire life. Walking towards the balcony after the meeting was over, this feeling of forbiddance deep within me as I had snuck off while the Coterie was not looking, I felt like I was reaching the end of the race and near claiming my prize. But what prize was there to claim from him? Knowledge? Deceit? I was unsure. I wouldn't find out until I opened the balcony door in front of me. The balcony had to be reached by entering the master bedroom, which was, of course, unused and completely empty, save for a bed and a dresser, both covered with a white sheet. The room was completely dark, and the only source of light came from the moon outside shining through the balcony doors.
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I have tried with every fiber of my being to remember the rest of that night from my own account. I have gone through multiplelave tets, have spoken to my ancestors and to the loa, have channeled my djab, have convened with other mambos in an attempt to remember the events that preceded Abraham ordering Hezekiah to give Aza the Gift of Darkness, but it doesn't come to me. Some have told me it's common to black out after possession, so I have settled at that conclusion. I only remember the moment right before Marie Laveau possessed me and the moments after she abandoned my body. Everything between was told to me by others, so this account is stitched together by other witnesses; it is not my own, though I hope it will be one day. **
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** When I awoke, the sun had already risen. It poured into my room, filling it with warmth. I sat up but very slowly; my head was throbbing to the point of it being hard to concentrate on where I was. It took me a few moments to realize that I was in my bedroom, lying in my bed, in my mama's house. The last thing I remembered from the night prior was Abraham threatening to kill Miss Aza. With this memory, I jumped out of bed in a panic, wondering if he had succeeded and oblivious to the events that preceded his threat. I ran out of the room, through the quiet hall and downstairs, yelling her name. The longer the silence carried, the larger my fears grew, I imagined that everyone was at a service for Aza or burying her body in
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