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Chapter 24: True Colors

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Chapter 24: True Colors

Nala was a wreck, ignoring calls and spelling her door to remain silent as her friends knocked relentlessly to capture her attention. She couldn't believe she'd been sucked into the hopes that her past indiscretions could be left behind.

Her shoulders shook as she cried, mourning the loss of the purity she thought she could regain with this fresh start.

Who was she fooling? Moving away and throwing herself into a relationship with the most obvious danger she could find; in hopes that maybe that would be enough to satiate the dark desires she opened as a younger teen.

        Anyone with a single functioning brain cell know he consequences of making a deal with the Dealer of the Dead—but Nala was young and thrumming with old magic and was itching to explore exactly how far she could take it.

       She'd never forget that night.

       The night she'd dared to summon him—Baron Samedi. It took little to call him forth, speaking his name in the dead of the night, an offering of cocaine and rum presented on a platter surrounded by dozens of black candles. Black salt and ground obsidian spread around the strong stone of Nala's altar. Old bound books, the cover made with a material that defiantly wasn't animal skin laid before her, it's pages glowing golden under the flicker of the candlelight. Words of ancient language spilled from Nala's eighteen year old mouth, her skin glowing in the moonlight as she sliced her chest, a sign of bloodshed and willingness to endure whatever came with calling upon the deity.

"You spoil me," A husky voice calls, words soft yet laced with unspoken power—dark power. Nala raised her eyes, taking in the attractive man with skin like rich umber, his long dark dreads fluttering behind him with each step. Baron was dressed in riches, his dark. fitted crocodile suit molded to each of his muscles, broadcasting his tall stature and sturdy frame. None of it took away from his status; the power that he could control with the blink of his eye—the snap of his finger. "You look just like your grandmother did at this age," Baron bends over, a finger plugging one nostril as he snorted one of the several lines of coke Nala offered. "All high cheekbones and full lips, probably just as supple."

"As flattering as that is, King, that's not quite why I've called you here."

He snorted another line. Then another, raising after the third to allow the affects to flow through his bloodstream. She really had gotten the good stuff, spending a pretty penny at the rich kid prep school three cities over on an eight ball. "How unfortunate," The white face paint of a skull shifted each time he talked, the stark color against his skin coming off uncharacteristically handsome, especially with the shimmering glow of his gold earring—the golden skull cane that remained in his right hand. "Tell me then, what is it that you need, child."

"Power. Deadly power that I can use against my enemies, forever."

"Forever, you say?"

Shea Butter Baby// D.SWhere stories live. Discover now