Soulless and vengeful proves a lethal combination for those who have wronged her
The time is 1890, the place, New Orleans, and Odara is lost to Madame Lilly, her soulless side—and she has not finished what she started. Unleashing two great forces, Theolus and Hearon, with ferocious appetites against her common-law husband, Henry Nicholas, is just the beginning of the end for Lilly—only she doesn’t know it yet.
For the spirits she raised took what was left of her humanity and left a piece of themselves within her; a piece that craves chaos. Needing to maintain control over them to do her bidding, Lilly must do what is required even if it means becoming more like them.
Tortured, scorned and damned, Lilly has one mission in life: Retribution.
And off Theolus and Hearon went with not so much as a question, for they knew what was expected of them. Chaos.
Slowly they ascended onto the porch, taking their time, savoring the moment that was about to commence, the moment of pure and utter turmoil at its keenest, the moment that would bring great men to their knees.
The door was locked. How silly. Hearon broke off the knob easily, but kicked down the door for the hell of it. In they walked as if they were strolling through Sister Xavier Hebert’s garden at the convent.
It was breathtaking how serene the house was until the first shot was fired. Lilly mounted the porch stairs and approached the door, holding on to the side column and awaiting the first cry of horror.
Then it came. That was what she yearned for. The sound of terror was the pinnacle of achievement for her.
An eruption of gunfire and shouting tore throughout the house, flooding it with confusion. Mrs. Nicolas was screaming for her sons’ souls and trying to save them. Scream on, Mrs. Nicolas, for what I do to you tonight will be far worse than what Henry has ever done.
The storm inside Lilly stirred so frantically it forced her to yell out. Feeling the wrath of her Loas’ hunger, she fell to her knees on the porch floor sweating and rocking back and forth until eventually she stopped fighting it and let it consume her, journey within her.
Her body locked up as her head fell back, keeping her frozen in that position on the porch floor and allowing her to see what her Loas saw inside the house and experience it as if it were she shredding the vivaciousness between her teeth. She could taste the once-pulsating blood and warm fleshy tissue in her mouth, down her throat, and in her stomach. It was revitalizing to feel and taste but then, just like that, the connection broke.
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