Nancy K. Duplechain - Dark Trilogy 03 - Dark Legacy Read Online Free PDF Page B

phone outside. Noah could hear her on the other end
of the line.
    “What could cause a victim to have a
blackened, swollen tongue?” he asked her.
    She was quiet for a second. “Corpse
dust. You know what that made of? Ground up infant bones.”
    His eyes widened and his lips pressed
into a hard line. “Is that used in Voodoo?”
    “Absolutely not! You take the life of an
innocent to enact a curse it’ll damn your soul. You know Voodoo ain’t about
that.”
    “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to imply
that. I was just wondering if a Dark One would use such a thing.”
    “That kind of thing’ll turn anyone to
Les Foncés.”
    “Would the Houma know how to perform
such a spell?”
    Silence on the other end of the phone,
and then, “Suppose so. Assuming they had instructions.”
    “Like the Book of Avelina?”
    “You found it?!”
    “Not yet, but we have a good lead.”
    “Be careful, Miles. Someone who’d make
corpse dust is someone you don’t want to mess with.”
    “I’ll be careful. Thank you.”
    Noah quickly whispered, “Ask her if
she’s with my mom.”
    Miles waved for him to be quiet, but it
was too late.
    “That Noah with you?! He don’t need to
be out chasing that book with you, Miles, you know that!”
    “I needed him. Don’t tell Selena.
Please. I’ll keep him safe.” He hung up before she could say another word and
then turned to Noah. “Ready?”
     
    ***
     
    Joe Billiot’s property was located in a
small, wooded area in the northwest corner of St. Mary Parish, right on the
border of Iberia Parish and just a few miles from Vermilion Bay which empties
out into the Gulf of Mexico. His modest, one-story home was built high up on stilts
to guard against flooding.
     Parked
in the driveway was a faded red Chevy truck that looked like it had seen better
days. There was a small, wooden shed with a creaky door that gently opened and
closed with the breeze. In the brief moments it was open, it revealed old
fishing nets and rusted farm tools.
    They
walked up the steps to the front porch, dodging a dirt dauber making a mud nest
between a post and the ceiling. There was no bell, so Miles knocked on the door
with the faded green paint.
    “Someone
actually lives here?” said Noah.
    Miles
shushed him and then knocked again after a few moments.
    “Maybe
he’s not home,” said Miles.
    Noah
heard the sound of footsteps on leaves, faint, but there. “Someone’s out back.
Or some thing .”
    “How
do you know?”
    “You
don’t hear it?”
    Miles
shook his head and smiled. “Your abilities come in handy.”
    The
sound moved toward the shed. Noah hopped down from the porch and rounded the
corner in time to see a shotgun pointed in his face. At the other end of the
barrel was a man in his fifties with a balding head and dark, pockmarked skin,
in a brown camo jacket and olive slacks. There were two dead rabbits hanging
from his belt. Three ancient, white scars cut ravines into his face, and four
more on his right arm.
    Noah
put his hands up. “Hey, wait up! We’re not here to hurt you.” He got a whiff of
sweat and tobacco.
    “You
get the hell off my property, son!”
    “Excuse
me, Mr. Billiot?” said Miles, his voice oddly calm.
    “What
the hell y’all want?”
    “Just
to ask you about some members of your tribe.”
    “You
with the government or the state?”
    “Neither.
Andrew Verret sent us here.”
    Joe
Billiot slowly lowered his gun. “He still alive?”
    Miles
nodded. “We’re looking for something—a book—that your grandmother Elizabeth
kept.”
    Joe
cleared his throat and spit on the ground. “I know the book you’re talking
about. My sister took that book after our daddy died some twenty years ago.”
    Miles’
eyes widened. “You have a sister?”
    “’s
the matter? Ya deaf? Mean ol’ bitch, she was.” He seemed to reconsider his
words. “Wasn’t always like that, though. Guess Daddy made her that way. Made us
both that way.”
    “Do
you know where I can find