Blue Voodoo: A Romantic Retelling of Bluebeard (The Hidden Kingdom Series Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

blood-stained tongue. Its body was enormous, wider than two men standing shoulder-to-shoulder, and nearly twice her height. Its arms and legs were humanoid, but still covered in thick, leathery scales and ending in webbed hands and feet tipped with wickedly curved black claws.
    “Such a dour expression on your beautiful face. What has you so troubled?”
    Parlangua’s voice was so hoarse, Dominique felt the need to clear her own throat. The beast fell into step beside her, its lumbering gait adjusted so as not to outpace her.
    “Julien is back.” Dominique’s tone was clipped, controlled, but there was no mistaking the heat in her voice. Fortunately, Parlangua was an old friend of the family, one of the few souls in the kingdom she did not have to put on airs for. Didn’t have to, but often did. Old habits were hard to break.
    Parlangua snorted. “Ah. That explains it then.”
    “Oh, but that is not all.” Dominique grabbed her skirts to stop her hands’ trembling. “He has been spreading the rumor that…” She halted, barely able to get the words out. “That we are to be…married.”
    “M…”
    She covered another ten yards before Parlangua recovered from its shock enough to catch up to her. Sharp claws that gave it purchase even in as slippery a terrain as the swamp, it was by her side again in no time, muddy water sloshing up its legs and filling the space between them with the peat-rich scent of the bayou.
    Pain radiated from Dominique’s jaw as she ground her teeth. Magic pulsed out from her soul, through her skin and into the air around her.
    Parlangua’s steps faltered. “You did not give him permission for such claims.”
     “I most certainly did not!” Dominique seethed. “That…that…. pirate will answer for this insult. The damage this could do… My reputation… I will kill him for this! He will learn what it means to offend a priestess of the loa .”
    “So you will take the route of the bokor then.”
    Dominique’s steps faltered, nearly throwing her into the swamp. A bokor . A sorceress. A person with power who used it for dark or light, who did not obey the strict moral code of a priestess, but rather used the power as it suited their needs, whatever those needs might be.
    “I am no bokor .” She bit out the word like the curse it was, infusing it with the disdain she held for all practitioners who turned away from the true path to serve the loa with both hands. “I am no dark arts master. Nor would I ever pervert my gifts in such a heinous fashion.”
    “Like your mother.”
    “My mother…” The fury in Dominique’s voice faltered, pain overwhelming her as the memory of her parents rose like ghosts in her mind. They’d been dead for over four years, killed during a mission of mercy to Ville au Camp. Their loss was as painful today as it had been the moment she’d first received the news. And even after four years, the suspicion that it had been no accident, that the ship had been sabotaged by those who hated her mother, who’d believed her to be evil—an immoral bokor —still weighed heavily on Dominique’s soul.
    She pushed away the pain and jabbed a finger in Parlangua’s direction. “My mother would still be alive today if she hadn’t strayed from the true path. I will not make the same mistake.”
    “Strong words for someone who talks of killing to protect her reputation.”
    “Who better to understand the importance of reputation than you?” Dominique fired back. “What would you do if people didn’t fear you too much to venture into your territory? If you actually had to fight to maintain your solitude?”
    Something flickered behind Parlangua’s eyes, a shadow that darkened the chartreuse of its irises, made them more alien. Its posture didn’t change, it offered no threat, and yet the hair on the back of her neck stood up, nerve endings dancing in a sudden gust of trepidation.
    “You have grown very comfortable with me.” Parlangua’s voice was