Voodoo Kiss - By Jayde Scott Page 0,1

a creak and he flew in, his great wings flapping softly. The reaper—a creature of Heaven and Hell, who had been lingering around me for many months, waiting for me to draw my last breath so he could transport my soul wherever he was meant to take it. He stood directly before me now—seven feet tall with a surprisingly human face. His dark gaze sharpened on me as he let out a piercing scream coming straight from the pit of Hell. It was the first time I got a good look at the creature, all skin as dark as coal and eyes as deep as the ocean.

I turned my head to look at the chanting warrior, begging him to save me, but he averted his gaze. On my knees, I pulled myself to the far side of the wall where a stack of hay covered by a thin sheet served as my sleeping chamber. The reaper lurched forward, his enormous wings fluttering behind him. Sharp claws cut into my chest. The pain intensified until I could no longer breathe. I knew then that I was about to die.

My scream found its way out of my throat a moment before my vision blurred and the room became dark. What would be the purpose in fighting with a body wrecked by age and disease? I sighed, ready to succumb to my fate. Instead of fighting, I let go willingly.

I, Esmeralda, the most powerful voodoo priestess in the world, had been deceived by the ones I had trusted.

Chapter 1

Present day New York City

My babushka had been a witch. And while she couldn't do more than the usual love potion and heal the odd sore throat, she had always insisted I was a witch too, though nowhere near embracing my powers. Not before people didn't come looking for me to ask me to fulfill a very important task. While her superstitious words had always made me laugh, they had also left a foreboding feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had always been one to believe in ghosts and things that go bump in the night, so when my life started to take a strange turn, I couldn't help but admit that something paranormal was going on and that my grandmother had been right. How else could I explain the bizarre events happening recently?

Ever since a few weeks ago when the TV set switched itself on to a show with a red-haired young woman and her pretty friend calling herself a psychic or something, my life hadn't been the same again. They claimed to have a message from someone named Theo. My half sister's name was Theo. She was murdered a while back. I could tell myself that particular occurrence was a mere coincidence, but there were a few other things I couldn't explain. Starting with the black crow that I swear had been following me for the last month, always cawing on my windowsill at night, to the pitch black I kept seeing in my dreams. It was always a black abyss that beckoned to me, drawing me in until I woke up with a jolt, drenched in sweat and too perturbed to get back to sleep.

I'd been so sleep deprived and anxious, I almost failed my college admission exam that was supposed to get me into drama school. Hoping the summer vacation would help me get my crap together, I agreed to a one-week vacation to Brazil. Granted, it was more of a proposition from my boyfriend, Gael, but I was thankful for the opportunity when he surprised me with two flight tickets to Rio de Janeiro. My bags were packed and cluttered the tiny hall to my apartment now. My best friend, Cindy, promised to feed my fish and water my plants. It was the trip of a lifetime, not least because Gael was talking about taking our relationship to the next level now that I was about to start college. So why was I hesitating?

Standing on the stage of Area 9 with a guitar cradled in my arms and a microphone in front of me, I sang the last words to Harried. Even though my mind was a million miles away, my voice rose and fell to the bittersweet melody, my hands sliding up and down the guitar neck the way they had done countless times before. The last tune echoed through the large bar.

"Well done, Soph," my band mate, Aaron, said.

The few people sitting near the edge, frat