I nodded for her to continue.
“Seven keys will let you enter,
Nibo’s axe, Plumaj’s feather.
Scent of night blossoms for Masaka,
Sip of piman, dance the Banda.”
I mentally recorded which of Samedi and Brijit’s children she listed, cross-referencing them with every tale of Guinée I could recall from our centuries of visits to New Orleans. Every Fète Gede celebration I’d ever attended, every fetish market I’d browsed in Lomé, and every mange-les-morts ceremony I’d been invited to in Port-au-Prince.
“Silken rings for Zaranye,
Oussou’s pipe will get you high.
Leave your ego in a jar,
The family Ghede will take you far.
Through waves of chaos, rocky cliffs of Abysmal waters,
Where for a mirror, Doubye will steer you through,
Truths, reflections, the bare depths of the real you.”
When León and I had gone on our sojourn all those centuries ago, we spent many weeks in Sicilia. We camped at the ancient necropolis in Cozzo Martice, swam naked in il lago di Pergusa, and made sacrifices at Demeter’s ancient temple, for it was said that there, Hades kidnapped Persephone and took her back to the Underworld. In my wildest dreams, I’d never have believed that one day I’d be escorting León’s descendant to the land of the dead.
“Fields of poppies, whirls of pleasure,
Will satisfy your every urge.
And only when you’re on the verge of erotic doom,
Will Ghede-L’Oraille set you free so you can bloom.
The sanctimonious need not cross,
Your lies will only get you tossed.
Twisted words and veils of secrets
turn to ash by licks from flaming tongues.
Only those who seek the truth will have any fun.”
The warnings did not escape me. You didn’t have to be a high priestess in the Voodoo tradition to know that the Ghede were flagrant tricksters who loathed the hypocritical culture of their former Natural World. They encouraged the indulging of whims and the exposing of secrets. I steadied my accelerating pulse. I hadn’t considered the Ghede when agreeing to this plan. The Ghede were going to be trouble.
“Follow the past, listen to lè mò,
And the secrets of the dead you will know.
Turn thrice and say the name of one who haunts you,
And find the Gates to Guinée beyond you.”
Adele sucked in a breath and waited.
In theory, her plan was brilliant, but in practice . . . too risky. The Ghede toying with the hedonic pleasures of a human, or even a witch, were one thing, but of a vampire? What was I thinking? It was a nightmare I’d never expose her to. “There are too many unknowns,” I said.
She whipped my way.
“I’m sorry, bella, I shouldn’t have made promises so quickly.”
“I don’t know,” Emilio said. “What was that part about erotic doom?”
“We’ll find another way. The Ghede unleashing the primal immoderation of a clan of vampires is not what we need right now.”
“Or maybe it’s exactly what we need right now,” she snapped.
Emilio’s tongue slid over his bottom lip as he gazed upon her with newfound admiration.
“Niccolò’s right,” Gabriel said. “The fantastical Ghede encouraging us to fulfill every urge, every desire? What if we became trapped in Ghede-induced blood-lust for eternity?” His eyes narrowed. “Or maybe that’s exactly what you want? Use us to break the Salazar family magic while trapping us in the Afterworld?” His fangs snapped out. “Is that where you think we really belong, with the dead?”
She leaned in, unafraid. “C’est ridicule, Gabriel.”
“You really are the descendent of Adeline Saint-Germain!”
I inched closer in case Gabriel lost control.
“Je t’accompagne chez Guinée!” Lisette blurted.
Gabriel flipped back to her. “No, you will not!”
“J’y vais!”
As they began to bicker, I tried to take Adele’s hand, but she pulled away. “Bella, it’s too dangerous for me to be there with you.” I lowered my voice. “In our world, I trust myself. I can control the thirst. But in the Afterworld, where the Ghede rule . . .”
“I trust you, Niccolò. In this world. In every world.”
“I would never risk your safety.”
“I’m not scared of you!”
“You need to be!”
“No, I don’t. Not if it means saving my dad.” Her breath shook in her lungs. “What if . . . what if you turned me? Then could we go?”
“What?”
“Then you wouldn’t have to worry about hurting me. Maybe that’s what Papa Olsin saw in his premonition! You weren’t killing me, just making me into a vampire?”
“That would be killing you!” I shouted, louder than I’d intended. “This plan is unsound. We need—”
“I think it’s sounding sexier than ever,” Emilio taunted, fangs bulging.
“Stop looking at her like that,” I hissed.
“Or what? You’ll rip off my head?”
Adele trembled. “I don’t care if I die.”
“I care if you die.” My fingernails dug into the table. Suddenly, I didn’t know if I was saying it for her sake or mine or all of the other vampires in the room.
“Leave it to a Saint-Germain to cause dissonance amongst the Medici,” Emilio said.
She looked up at me. “So much for us being in this together.”
“We are.”
“No, we’re not. We haven’t been ever since you went after Callis without me. We promised each other we wouldn’t go after him alone.”
What? She doesn’t know? Wasn’t that why she was here, and why Isaac was spying from a fern across the street—because she’d found out everything?
“Adele, I tri—”
Tears welled in her eyes.
I couldn’t bear to cause her any more pain. “It was too dangerous. I thought Emilio and I could stop him in the swamp and they’d never even make it back into the city. We arrived moments too late. I’m so deeply sorry that we did.”
“You thought you could take down a coven of Ghost Drinkers with just Emilio? The good ole Carter Brothers . . .”
“Basta, fratellino,” Gabriel said, with disappointment, “o le dirò la verità—”
I shot him a look. “It’s fine. She’s right.”
Adele’s eyes lit with fire. “I know the Medici ego is legendary, but this is absurd, Niccolò. It’s Floralia! You saw the dozens of witches who could have helped!”
“I know. It was a plan wrought with arrogance. In hindsight—”
“If we’d worked together, we’d have had a chance. You didn’t even warn anyone! We were taken totally off guard, and now the whole city is screwed—all because you wanted to be the hero! Papa Olsin died!”
“Cazzate!” Emilio boomed.