The Hardest Thing in Life to Learn- Which Bridge to Cross and Which Bridge to Burn
I'll keep this until such a time when you'll consider being an untrustworthy bitch isn't worth it. Even just thinking of the words he said made her physically flinch. He'd said them so easily she could swear he enjoyed it. She'd never seen that side of him and she had to say she wasn't a fan at all. Did it hurt? Even just a little to say those things? she couldn't help but wonder. He'd compared her to Corbin, and breaking that barrier for her was almost unforgivable. How could he? He knew what that man had done to her. Hurt her inside and out. Confined her, tied her up and tortured her. That was the ultimate insult and he knew that. Did Naberius really think that ill of her or that she and Corbin were cut from the same cloth? She laid with the man so he wouldn't hurt Naberius, did that make her just like him? It had been a few weeks since she'd come back to NOLA from Port-au-Prince, and then another since the altercation at the Yule Ball. Telling LaBelle that she needed some time away, but promising to stay within the city limits of New Orleans, she rented a room in a rustic hotel located in the French Quarter. She needed to be away from the Coven; she had research to do. People to talk to and seek out. Despite how much Naberius had hurt her, she needed to try and help him. She owed him that. Paying for the room in advance for 2 weeks, she felt that would be ample time to do what she needed to do (or least get a decent head start).
Afterwards, if they didn't speak again, she would consider them even -no matter how broken hearted it left her- and go their separate ways. The room was gorgeous, and there was an even better view outside of the window. But she couldn't enjoy it. Everything looked dull and gray; ugly. She was jaded by the words of the man she loved because she chose to lie. Those intimate moments they shared that night before she left caused a flutter in her belly, but was immediately replaced by a nauseating feeling that she'd destroyed that bond with him. Sitting at a desk in the room, her laptop illuminated her features in the darkened room. The sun was beginning to set, so while it wasn't completely dark, she could tell that it wouldn't be long. Papers and books lay open and scattered on the plush bed that she'd scoured for information. She'd already been in this room for three days, and while there were tidbits here and there she had pulled and some leads she planned to seek out, there wasn't much she had to go on. Pulling her legs underneath of her in the swiveling chair, she turned herself to the large, leather book Naberius had given to her at the Yule Ball. "What the hell is this, Legba?" she wondered aloud.
Using the tips of her fingers she gently opened the book. The pages looked to be lined with gold, and they had a parchment-like quality to them. But page after page... she flipped through them again and again just as she'd been doing since she received it; they were blank. Every single damn page had nothing on it. Was this just Legba's way of screwing with her again? Making her think there was something there that in reality isn't? There's no telling what the mysteroious Voodoo man meant by ensuring she took this book into her possession. She thought at one point Legba wanted to assist her in freeing Naberius from Abigor's clutches, but now she wondered if he, too, was just taking pleasure in her torment. Frustrated, she slammed the book shut, uttering "son of a bitch" as she did so. She closed her eyes, dry from staring at the laptop screen and books all day, and pinched the bridge of her nose for a few moments. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since the day before. She opened her eyes again, staring at the blank leather book. What the hell. Just ask him. Her fingers drifted towards the laptop and she pulled up her email. Finding the initial contact from Legba about receiving the "package", she hit reply. What's the worst that could happen? He could ignore her? She typed out a short message: Why was it so important you give me this book? How is Nab- -delete, delete, delete- She couldn't ask about Naberius, no matter how much she really wanted to. A simple signature at the end; "Z", and she hit send. She swiveled herself around, away from the laptop. Why was this line so hard to walk between loving Naberius and being so angry at him? A lump in her throat formed as the image of his angered face flashed before her eyes. Her vision blurred as his words played over and over in her head. Angry. Spiteful. Zahrah could feel the warmth of a tear sliding down her cheek and she hated how weak she felt when it came to this man. She'd helped nurse him back to health, sang to him in her native tongue in hopes it would quell the pain in his mind so he could properly mend not only his physical being, but his mental being as well. Hastily, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Why couldn't she be free of LaBelle and Naberius be free of Abigor so they could live and love peacefully? She used to think that was possible at one time. But not anymore.
Definitely not now. Her eyes fell to her cell phone and she reached for it. Even though she'd deleted his number it didn't matter, she still had the sequence memorized perfectly. She wanted to call him and hear his voice. She was dying inside not being able to tell him how sorry she was that everything happened the way it did. But she couldn't. People would get hurt and possibly even killed. She needed to make things right. Or at least try.
After she'd sent the email she knew she needed to walk away for a little while. She threw on a hooded sweatshirt and tossed her hair in a pony tail before wiggling into some jeans. Shoes were last, and grabbing her bookbag with her phone and wallet in it she decided she would take a small respite by walking a few blocks over for some take out. The French Quarter had no shortage of restaurants, so she knew it would distract her to walk down there, look around, and figure out what she wanted to eat. Happy with her decision, she left and began her journey around the French Quarter. Her mind was running a mile a minute and truth be told it was exhausting. There was so much she wanted and needed to do but it seemed like she had no where to start. In the research she had done thus far she knew Abigor was a demon general. He was proficient in war and its tactics. So, keeping this knowledge in mind, what did he want with Naberius? How did Naberius come to even be a possession of this demon general? Her heart ached to think of her Naberius- no, not her Naberius. Not any longer. What happened to bring someone as strong and smart as Naberius to his knees and basically render him powerless against this being? She shoved her hands into the front pocket of her hooded sweatshirt as she sighed; images of Naberius' tattered, broken, and bloodied body entered her mind. It was like Naberius was forced to do Abigor's bidding because he owed him some kind of debt. But what could Naberius possibly have wanted that would lead him to take advantage of a bargaining chip such as slavery to a demon general of Hell? And how was LaBelle connected to all this? The staff? The scroll? When was this going to start making sense to her? Delectable smells filled her nose as she breathed and she realized that she'd already made her way to the French Quarter. It didn't take her long to decide on some street-food style Chinese; short ribs and lo mein noodles. With her prized meal in hand, she made her way back to her hotel room, where she was greeted with the same loneliness that she'd had left. She set her food and backpack down on the desk, but as she took her hooded sweatshirt back off, she realized something had caught her eye but just now registered in her brain. The book. Legba's book. It was open. She knew she didn't leave the book open like that before she left. In fact she remembered shutting it with quite a bit of force as well as a few choice words. Her sweatshirt fell to the floor in a crumpled heap and she turned her attention to the desk. Instead of the blank page that had greeted her before, there was now writing in its place.
From Legba.
There had to be another one or he was using some form of magic to communicate with her through this book. And he knew something. Legba knew more than he'd let on before. He had to have some connection with Abigor to be considered a safe haven for Naberius from the demon. She needed answers. She would travel, bend, lie (more), and even kill to help Naberius. She would even steal the scroll back from LaBelle and return it to Legba if it meant she could make this right and free her demon. Her mind was made up. She would do whatever it took and more. Picking up an ink pen sitting beside her laptop, she penned her own response below the cryptic notation: I need answers. I have to help Naberius and I will do whatever you need or ask. Please tell me where to start. She tossed the pen aside and chewed on her bottom lip nervously; where was this going to lead her? Her dinner forgotten she crossed her arms and made her way to the small balcony attached to her room. There she stood, staring at the moon now that the sun had disappeared, and nervously awaited her instructions to begin a journey to free her enslaved love.
A brownstone in Jarusalem that she would be interested in visiting? She'd never even been to Jarusalem. Well, not that she'd remembered. It pissed her off that Legba was always so cryptic and could never just tell her right away what she was looking for, what she was supposed to do, or even what he expected of her. But no. He had to pull his Loa bull shit and be mysterious. It was neither here nor there at this point though. That night she packed her things up and left the hotel in the French Quarter to return to the large mansion-like house that the Coven and most of its members resided in. Legba made it seem like LaBelle would have no problem with her leaving the country. She had no idea how that would even work considering the last time she left the country LaBelle got pissed and pretty much sent a mercenary after her to bring her back. How was this going to be any easier? But it was. It was as if LaBelle was allowing this as a favor to Legba. It irked Zahrah to think of this; how did these two know each other and what was their relationship? That would just have to be another thing to add to her list of things she needed to figure out that others felt the need to hide from her. That list had grown exponentially over the past few months. Zahrah could not leave until another ritual was done by the Coven. When they found her on the beach with the large, gaping wound that began above her belly button, came up over her left breast, and ended at the collar bone, she was near death. And she'd begged for it. As the waves had washed over her she could taste the saltiness of the water and the metallic properties of blood on her tongue and wished for death to just claim her once and for all. But LaBelle and the Coven had found her and through the help of magick, continuous rituals done every four to six weeks, she was able to be kept alive. As the Coven Leader had explained to her, while the ritual slowly healed her, it also kept her alive because of the extensive damage to her physical body and soul. This is also why she was in a perpetual state of debt to LaBelle. Again... another thing on her list. There had to be more to this. Before she could leave for Jarusalem another ritual must be done. Strangely enough she could never remember them. LaBelle informed her that they put her in a cataonic like state because it would be much too painful for her to remain awake and aware while they performed it. She'd tried many times to fight the magick but couldn't. It still won over in the end and she would wake up in her own bed a few days later. This had become habit, and because of that, Zahrah knew that she would need to focus on this at another time. It was low on the list of priorities to her. Right now her concern was Naberius. She pushed herself, though still groggy from the ritual, to pack for her trip to Jarusalem. Two suitcases and a backpack later and she felt she was ready to go. She had no idea how long she was going to be gone, so she made sure to pack enough for two weeks. The backpack would be kept on her at all times until she landed at her destination. Her laptop and the leatherbound book from Legba were among its contents. She'd chosen a red eye flight so she wouldn't have to deal with so many people. She hated the crowds, they made her nervous sometimes.
As she opened her bedroom door to leave, she muttered "shit".
She walked back towards her dresser. A small, black, fireproof safe on top rested there. She quickly pressed in the numerical code that would open it. One thing lay inside; a small bracelet with a wolf's head charm. Her heart ached thinking of Naberius and the happy look on his face the night he'd given this to her. He loved her. Well, he did. She had put the necklace on before the Yule Ball thinking the charm and the emerald would look stunning with her dress, and noticed that the wolf's head had fallen off. She took it to a jeweller and had them affix it to a bracelet so she wouldn't lose it and she could wear it whenever she needed or wanted to. A small sigh left her as her heart ached to hear his voice. She missed him dearly. Clasping the bracelet around her wrist, she shut the door to the safe, grabbed her suitcases, and exited the bedroom. By the time she'd taken a cab to the airport and gotten to her seat in first class on the plane, she was nearly exhausted. And the flight was going to be several hours. Clutching her backpack to her and leaning her head on the small pillow provided by the flight staff, she allowed herself to close her eyes. She was asleep before the plane left the ground.
