The Isle Of Sin And Shadows - Keri Lake Page 0,173

on the air, turgid and stagnant in my lungs, as breath saws in and out of me. Sweat clings to my skin.

Stabbing pains in my skull send a flash of stars across my eyes that slowly dissipates into the shadowy edges. Not pitch blackness, I realize, as I can see objects about the room--a rocking chair, an old dresser, and the flicker of shadows on the wall from a lit candle.

“Minou, minou … I see you!”

At the sound of the voice, I gasp and twist, just now noticing my wrists won’t move. A quick upward glance shows them tethered to rope against a steel frame. The sound of a chuckle across the room sends a twitch of fear through me, and I jolt upright as much as my binds will allow. A tearing sensation across my back has me crashing against the soft surface beneath me, wincing at the pain.

“Dis was your momma’s old room. Where we kept her nine whole months before you was born.” From the dark corner of the room, the figure sits forward, casting light on a face I recognize, her voice a distraction to the agonizing pain.

“Jo?”

“I prefer Maw Maw Jo, but under da circumstances, das fine.”

“What are you saying? What do you know of my mother?”

Lips curving to a knowing smirk, she tilts her chin up. “Dat scar on ya t’roat. I didn’ want to put dat dere, but dat Russ … he tried to hurt my boy.” Gaze falling to an object in her hand, she tips her head, and I study the small cloth doll with yarn hair and beady eyes, one familiar to me, that she strokes her thumb over. “I know everyt’ing about your momma. Considerin’ I labored her. Unlike you, she was marked a breeder. And what joy for us, what a blessin’ to be sure!” Shuttering her eyes, she tips her chin skyward, shaking her head with a smile. “She would bear the fruit of our success!” Chest rising and falling with a deep breath, she opens her eyes, staring off at something beyond me. “Highly respectable men paid good money to breed her. Unfortunately, she didn’t produce as efficiently as we’d hoped. It wasn’t until she became pregnant wit’ you dat we knew we’d be saved.” Still petting the doll in her hands, she seems to fall into memories. “Vivienne was always tête dur. Stubborn. Even as a child, she had to be whipped more dan most children, just to keep her in line. Canaille, her. She gave you away to dat doctor, but we didn’ find out for da longest time. He kept you hidden in dat house. Didn’ matter how many people came over to investigate, you were never around. Never dere. And den he started makin’ all dese accusations. Tellin’ da aut’orities about us. Giving away our secrets. He had to be silenced.”

“Doctor … you’re talking about my father?”

“He wasn’ your father, chère. Your momma promised us she wouldn’ go tellin’ him all our secrets, but she did. She tol’ him everyt’ing.”

A cold numbing shock branches beneath my skin, and I shake my head. “You’re lying. He was my father. You’re lying to me.”

“’Fraid not. Your father was Mr. Bijou.” The name sounds familiar to me, but I can’t pinpoint where I’ve heard it before. “Da man always fancied your momma, an’ we was delighted when he chose her for breedin’. Good genes, him.”

Bijou. Where have I heard it?

My mind slips back to the day in the hospital, when we visited Thierry’s sister. He introduced me to a woman. Bijou. The strange one who seemed unusually interested in seeing my scar. It’s the only reason I remember her, at all. It was odd, the way she seemed to take interest in it. “No. You’re lying!”

“I’m not lyin’ to you. Ain’ got no reason to lie. Man’s dead now. Know how? Keeled over an’ died. No reason. No explanation. Das what happens we renege on our gifts. We get punished for it. And our priest was angry. So very angry.” A sobering expression claims her face, as she stares off. “La misère. We lost everything. Our business. Our family. We were cast from da flock. So we tried to make it right. We offered up Vivienne as a sacrifice. But it didn’ do a damn bit of good.”

“You killed my mother?” My mind rewinds to the images of the woman that I found when I was a child, lying cut up, tortured, in the woods.