Page 4 of Bewitched By the Voodoo King (The Bewitching Hour #7)

No one came for me that night and so at ten p.m. I got dressed for bed.

I didn’t allow myself to unpack as everything felt weird and for some reason, I knew I wouldn’t be here long.

I buttoned up my silk pj top and eyed the bed.

I didn’t want to stay here. It wasn’t home.

It wasn’t even comfortable. I hugged my pillow to my chest and inhaled the scent of home.

A banging on the doors had me almost jumping out of my skin. It was almost eleven at night. What was wrong with this coven?

The banging came again, louder this time, like whoever was on the other side had no concept of personal boundaries—or a clock. Heart hammering in my chest, I grabbed the nearest object for self-defense- a decorative vase shaped like a cat. Not my best weapon, but it was heavy and within reach.

“Who is it?” I called, trying to keep my voice steady.

No answer. Of course.

The banging didn’t stop, and I tiptoed to the door, clutching the cat vase. Slowly, I turned the knob and cracked the door open just enough to peek out.

A man stood in the hallway, his broad shoulders filling the frame.

He was dressed in all black, from his fitted button-down shirt to his leather boots, as if he’d just walked out of a gothic fashion catalog.

His sharp features were illuminated by the flickering wall sconce and his light inhuman eyes were a stark contrast to the rich, dark coloring of his skin.

His long dreaded hair was pulled back away from his sharp angular face.

“Maple?” His voice was deep, almost a growl.

“Yes?” I tightened my grip on the vase. “Who’s asking?”

“Rune Benoit,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

“Are you going to take me to the Voodoo King?”

Rune leveled me with a glare. “You’re looking at him.”

“Wait,” I held up a hand and laughed. “You arranged your own marriage?”

“Unfortunately, my father passed this morning, and the mantle has been passed to me.”

Mortification and shame blasted through me. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry.”

He rolled his light eyes. “Yeah, okay. Follow me. We have a lot of ground to cover and the last thing I want is for you to get lost here.”

I let out a little laugh. Get lost? This place couldn’t be that big.

It was indeed that big.

Rune led me through the winding corridors of the coven estate with the confidence of someone who owned the place—which, apparently, he now did. His shoulders were stiff, and he didn’t bother to glance back to see if I was keeping up.

“What makes someone a Voodoo King?” I practically whispered as a shiver worked its way down my spine. “Do you practice Voodoo Magic?” I didn’t even know if there was such a thing.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Death magic, shadow work, and ancestral ties. The veil to the other side is thinner for me so I can protect my people.” I shivered again.

“I wasn’t planning on exploring tonight,” I muttered, more to myself than to him as I tried to change the direction of my thoughts. The decorative cat vase was still in my hand, an odd comfort in the unfamiliar setting.

Rune’s sharp voice cut through the silence. “You won’t need that.”

I glanced down at the vase and tightened my grip. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he said without turning around. “There’s nothing in these halls that would harm you. At least not without my permission.”

“Wow. Comforting,” I shot back, but he didn’t respond. Apparently, sarcasm didn’t register with him. Or he didn’t care. Ugh.

The estate—or whatever this place was—was a labyrinth of arched hallways, wrought iron sconces, and heavy oak doors.

Every few steps, I caught glimpses of strange rooms through half-open doors: one filled with jars of herbs and bones, another with stacks of ancient books piled precariously on every surface, and yet another that smelled faintly of salt and incense.

The air here was thick, almost alive, and I couldn’t tell if it was oppressive or protective.

This place was nothing like home. Yes, New Orleans was rich in its history and culture but I had expected something different than this.

It was cold and dark. I wasn’t entirely sure I was on the right side of this war.

Rune stopped abruptly and I nearly walked into his back. He turned, his piercing gaze landing on the vase still clutched in my hands.

“Put it down,” he said flatly.

I lifted my chin and tightened my grip around the vase. “I don’t think I will.”

His lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Suit yourself.”

Before I could come up with a biting retort, he pushed open a set of double doors and stepped into what could only be described as a war room.

The room was vast, with walls covered in maps, sigils, and intricate drawings of what I assumed were spells.

A massive round table dominated the center, its surface carved with runes that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light.

Several people were gathered around it, their conversations hushed but urgent.

They all turned as we entered, their eyes scanning me with varying degrees of curiosity and skepticism.

“Your guest, Rune?” a tall woman with striking silver braids and dark umber skin asked. Her voice was smooth but carried an edge that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“She’s the West Coast’s offering,” Rune said, gesturing toward me like I was a piece of furniture he’d just hauled in. “Maple.”

The woman’s lips curled up with amusement. “Cute.”

I blinked, heat rushing to my cheeks. “I’m a person, not an object, you know.”

“This little thing is supposed to save our people? Save our coven? She doesn’t look like she’s all-powerful,” a gruff voice cut in. A burly man with a jagged scar across his cheek stepped forward, his arms crossed.

Uh oh. What was I supposed to say to that? I didn’t have any magic and I didn’t know how I was going to change the tide of whatever war they had happening here. It couldn’t be that bad considering I’d never heard of it until I left from my own comfort.

I stepped forward ready to spear the man with my words when I forgot I was still holding the cat vase and in my pajamas no less. My slippered foot slid across the floor and the cat vase went flying out of my hands. I watched in horror as it flew through the air.

“For ancestors’ sake,” Rune shouted before he leaped forward to catch it.

My mouth hung open until the burly man spoke again, “I rest my case.”

Rune straightened, the decorative cat vase cradled securely in his hands and shot me a glare so sharp it could’ve cut glass. “Are you always this dangerous, or is it just tonight?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Between the slippery slippers, my mortifying pajamas, and the fact that I’d just hurled a ceramic feline at the most intimidating people I’d ever met, I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Well?” Rune prompted, his light eyes narrowed. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I… uh…” I cleared my throat, willing myself to find some dignity. “The floor’s really slippery.”

The burly man snorted, crossing his arms as his scarred face twisted into a smirk. “Yeah, we’re doomed.”

Rune’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might actually throw the vase back at me. Instead, he turned and placed it carefully on a nearby table, muttering something under his breath that I was pretty sure was not a compliment.

The tall woman with the silver braids, however, looked downright delighted. “Oh, I like her,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement. “She’s entertaining.”

Rune shot her a look. “This isn’t entertainment, Adelle.”

“Oh, lighten up,” Adelle replied with a wave of her hand. “She’s obviously nervous. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Nervous? I’m not nervous,” I blurted and then immediately regretted it when all eyes turned back to me. My cheeks burned. “Okay, maybe a little.”

The burly man barked out a laugh. “A little?”

“Louis,” Rune growled, his voice low and threatening. “Enough.”

Even though my eyes widened at the sound of his voice, it did something to my insides that I’d never felt before.

I wasn’t a virginal bride, but I’d definitely never felt heat like that before.

I blinked absolutely mortified with my internal musings.

This guy was not my type and even if he was, he was rude and didn’t even want me here.

An arranged marriage would mean nothing.

But at least if we had to consummate it, I would be more than willing to participate it seemed… Ugh .

I hated myself.

I squared my shoulders, ignoring the way my heart was pounding. “Look, I don’t know what you all were expecting, but I didn’t exactly volunteer for this. So maybe cut me a little slack?”

Adelle’s lips twitched like she was fighting a smile, and even Rune’s expression softened—though only slightly.

“Fine,” Rune said, his tone clipped. “But if you want us to take you seriously, you’ll have to stop throwing household items at people.”

“It was an accident,” I muttered as I crossed my arms. “And for the record, I wasn’t aiming at anyone.”

Adelle chuckled. “She’s got spirit. I’ll give her that.”

Louis didn’t look convinced, but he kept his mouth shut this time, which felt like a small victory.

“Now that we’ve established Maple’s, ah, unique presence,” Babette said suddenly from the back of the room, her tone biting, “perhaps we should get to the reason she’s here?”

Rune nodded, his expression hardening. “Agreed. Maple, you might not know this yet, but the reason you’re here is?—”

“Wait,” I interrupted and held up a hand.

“Before you launch into some ominous explanation about how I’m the key to saving the world or whatever, can someone at least explain what this war is about?

Because I’ve heard exactly nothing about it and I feel like I’m missing some important context here. ”