Sacred Bayou

Sacred Bayou

By Janet Breakfield

Published by Goodwin Imaging at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Janet Breakfield

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For my friend Kayla

Who always calls me, love.

Fallen Angel

Tonight I looked up to the sky

And saw a fallen angel about to die

The broken wings the dreams destroyed

Wounded plunging to the void

This angel saw his child's fears

The mother’s pain the tears of years

Night terror's screams punctuate the night

His caged monsters coming out to fight

Perhaps it was they never let him feel

That joy and pain are both as real

Human feelings so repressed

Must find some space to be expressed

She loves him more than he ever knew

Touched her heart as other men rarely do

The future dreams the barn owl flies

I saw it all within his eyes

The perfect week, the perfect touch

Was it possible to have this much?

The future book a shared life together

I wanted to be with you forever

Laughter joy and burning fires

Your skin our touch my deep desires

Fulfilled beyond erotic dreams

But the wheel can turn or so it seems

Words spoken by an angel's feather

Spelt arousing stimulation together

This angel's heart is wounded too

She yearns for love having never met you

So sad that everything has come to this

An injured angel descends to the abyss

True intimacy there’s always shared

Revelations from our souls are bared

The poet's seraph his heart must catch

A red haired, blond or raven match

Now her wings can heal her heart set free

I wonder how many fallen angels will there be?

A poem by Sarah

Prologue

July 1876

The setting sun shone through the scattered limbs of the old cypress trees, casting shadows where the moss hung down in thick, speckled gray clumps. Hughes of purple, pink, and blue shadowed the sky as night was rapidly approaching. Water filled the swamp mud, emitting a pungent odor from the last week of heavy rainfall. As the wind blew, the slow curls of water sloshed up against the base of the bell shaped cypress trees and against my bare ankles. The swamp was eerily quiet. Not a creature made even a breath of sound. The burial of the late Chief Diot was being carried out in Houmas Indian tradition. The mound of earth was built to house his body, and eventually his bones, while trinkets from his earthly life were placed on the mound. This knoll is the only completely dry area in this part of the swamp. It was the old Chief’s favorite place to come and meditate.

Louisiana swamps were renowned burial grounds for the Houmas Indians. Some of the mounds dated older than the pyramids of Egypt or even Stonehenge. The mounds in Louisiana alone number more than anywhere else in the country. Tradition and camaraderie were important to the Houmas Indians. My tribe built their houses in a circular shape and planted corn fields all around the circle. The women were farmers, the men hunters. Both were dancers and intense story tellers.

The Chief Diot was among the most famous of all the story tellers in the tribe. His absence would truly be missed among the children. They regularly stared starry eyed at him while he told of the spirits of the bayou around the campfire before their bedtime. He would weave tales of Loup Garou, spirits and Voodoo priestess’ in the bayous. The scariest stories were always about the Skinwalkers. These were half man, half animal that had psychic dominion over other creatures in the swamp; it could control them with just a thought. Some confused the Skinwalker with the Loup Garou, werewolves that were human most of the month and werewolf on full moons. The Skinwalker was different. It never turned back completely human and was doomed to wander the swamps killing to survive. The only way to battle a Skinwalker was with spirit; wraiths, protectors. They could keep a body from having its soul stolen by the Skinwalker. I wish for those days when all it had been was stories.

Chief Diot had asked before his death that a ritual be performed to protect his burial mound from the Skinwalkers. This was the ritual that was being performed before my eyes, today, deep in the swamp. As the last rays of sunlight passed through the trees, signaling the coming night, my tribe gathered around the mound and whispered a chant that would open a portal to the spirit world and release the wraiths that would add protection to the soul of Chief Diot. If a Skinwalker were to gather the power of the Chief then his soul would be lost, unable to find its way back to the spirit world where it now rested. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as I chanted along with the others. Being a female, I faded into the background, but my voice was still heard by the spirit world. My heartbeat pounded out a frantic rhythm inside my chest.

The winds began to blow with gale force now that the ritual chant had begun. The heavy moss swayed back and forth. Water sloshed around the base of the trees in small waves. Fog rolled in, from deep in the swamp, making it impossible to see the mound any longer. A cold chill swept through the circle raising goose flesh on my arms. The long, dark hair of both men and women was braided, but it too was shifting with the wind. Neither gender wore upper garments. The men wore breeches that hung to the knee and the women, like me, wore wrap around skirts made from deer skins and fabric. We were primitive, simple people and only thought of family and survival, not of displaying wealth.

Though all around them the world was in chaos, we were rooted in place with our eyes closed tight against the winds. We waited. The winds slowly calmed as the fog rolled away. Two bright orbs appeared over the burial mound of the Chief. They twisted to form hollow shapes that were human-like. Our spiritual leader of the tribe stepped forward and placed an offering before them at the base of the mound. It was a small, but detailed cypress wood carving in the likeness of the Chief. The Houmas Indians were renowned for their woodcarving skills and also for palmetto basket weaving. Thus, a large basket of vegetables was place there as well.

The wraiths, now visible to the Indians, bowed and accepted the homage. Before our eyes the statue disappeared along with the hollow form of the wraiths. I sucked in a deep cleansing breath to ground myself. The winds had all but died to a gentle breeze and the swamp seemed to return to normal. My body shook from the things I’d witnessed. Several moments passed before my heartbeat finally returned to normal.

The group slowly disbanded and turned to leave the swamp when a howl that sounded like an animal in chronic pain ripped through the bayou behind the mound. The people stopped and returned to their circle around the mound. The Skinwalker was there to take his due. Fortunately for Chief Diot, his people had already secured his soul with new protectors and the sounds of howling were the wraiths doing their job. With smiles on our faces, the Houmas Indians returned to our homes and children. We knew the Chief was safe now and the Skinwalker would have to hunt another soul.

Chapter 1

Sunlight streamed through the cracks in the thick drapes that covered my bedroom windows at Gran’s house. I raked a sleepy hand over my face and started to set up to stretch. A wave of nausea hit like a runaway freight train. I looked over to wake Tanner up, but he was already gone. With the next heavy wave of nausea, I jumped out of the bed, ran to the bathroom and landed on my knees in front of the toilet.

Three and a half months had passed since that night at the voodoo witch Ursulla’s house deep in the bayou. I was now introduced to morning sickness due to the fact that I was officially pregnant with Tanner’s child. Of course at this early stage, I wasn’t showing yet….but food didn’t taste right and I threw up every morning.

After this morning’s nauseous beginning, I quickly brushed my teeth and washed my face hoping to feel a little more human. Gran had mercifully refrained from cooking things like bacon and sausage in the morning because she knew the effect it would have on me. By noon, I would feel fine…but it wasn’t noon yet. I dressed and went downstairs. Coffee was a must. I smelled the aroma of the Community coffee brewing before I ever left my bedroom. A cup was waiting on the kitchen counter already filled and swirled with creamer. I took a sip and then kissed Gran on the forehead while she stood at the sink peeling potatoes.

Where’s Tan? I asked. She looked at me puzzled. I hadn’t bothered to poke around in her thoughts this morning. All I could think about was my queasy stomach.

He left right after sunrise, Cher. Said he had some things to take care of. That was odd. But, in truth, Tanner had been acting kinda strange the last few weeks. He had asked me to marry him and even gave me a ring the night we finally broke the curse of the Loup Garou, but honestly, he hadn’t mentioned it since. I hadn’t thought much about it, since I had performed several healings in the past weeks and also because I was researching the Loup Garou curse with every free second I could spare. I still had to find a way to remove the curse from my unborn baby.

Carelessly, I had bled on the crystal amulet that had released the Guidry men from the curse only to have it replaced on my unborn child. I will never forgive myself for that mistake.

I drank my coffee in small sips hoping I would keep it down. The fresh air outside was starting to change and the first remnants of fall were in the air. I took my cup outside and sat on the old roll back swing. The breeze was nice and cool. A cold front had come in overnight and the fresh air was a welcome change.

I sat there wondering what was so important that Tanner had to leave at sunrise. Maybe it was something he had to do for his family. Since the curse was broken, the family had spent more time together. I was happy for Tanner and I even went with him occasionally. But, over the last two weeks, he had stayed a couple nights at his cabin back in the bayou. He said he needed some time to think. I wondered to myself if he was having second thoughts about the wedding. We hadn’t even set a date yet. He only mentioned it the one time, I thought as I stared down at my engagement ring. I knew without a doubt Tanner loved me, so why was I feeling this way…unsure and worried.

It’s natural in your condition to be uneasy with small things, and for your emotions to be all over the place, Gran said as she came out the screen door holding a plate of dry toast. It was about the only thing I could keep down in the morning hours.

Gran, I know that, but it just seems like something’s wrong. I can feel a change happening and I don’t know what it is.

Calm yourself Cher, you will see, all will be alright. She came and sat down on the swing beside me and handed me the plain toast. I smiled back at her. She knew what I needed. How in the world would I ever live without Gran? I knew she couldn’t be there forever; I just hoped she’d be there to see the baby born, and hold him. I’ll be there for you Cher, as long as you need me. I saw a sadness cross her face. I started to ask her what was wrong when I heard a vehicle coming up the driveway. It was Tanner’s truck.

Since finding out I was pregnant I’d made one major change, and bought a new vehicle. Since inheriting the money from Gran, I was now financially sound. It went against everything I had ever felt about wasting money, but I’d taken Gran’s advice and bought a new, four-door Jeep Wrangler Rubicon. It was black and really shiny. You need a dependable way to go with a baby, she’d crooned. I honestly felt like something had kicked me in the ass when we left the dealership. Gran went, to my surprise. I guess she knew I wouldn’t buy one if she didn’t go.

Tanner pulled in front of the house and parked. We had rerouted the driveway since he had moved in, so he would have room to park as well. He also finished the paint job on the house that Tristan had started. The thought of Tristan still brought gooseflesh to my arms. I had woken up more than one night thinking I was still in the swamp with his hand wrapped in my hair and a gun to my forehead.

When Tanner got out I smiled at him. He jumped up on the porch as I came off the swing. He wrapped me in his arms and held me tight. Gran whispered, Good morning T-Tan, and went into the house. When he released me, I kissed him. I need him close to me. He kissed me soft at first and then more passionately the longer he held me. Abruptly he pulled back. I looked at him with a curious glare.

What’s wrong Tan? I know something’s bothering you. Out with it. Maybe I can help. I tried to read his mind, he was shielding it.

I got a call yesterday from Ameliana in New Orleans. She thinks she may have some leads on the curse. She wants you to come there today and let her tell you about it.

That’s great! Did she tell you what it was, or how she found out? I’ll be feeling better in a couple hours, then we can go, I said. The excitement was just what I needed. I had a new lead to follow. Maybe Ameliana had found something.

I’m gonna go feed the chickens and cows. Maybe get the chores done before we go, he said as he stepped off the porch. Something was still bothering him, but I filed that thought away for later. I tried not to pry on his thoughts and let him have some privacy. Also, Gran had helped him build shields, so I couldn’t see everything he felt and thought. She told us both that it wasn’t healthy for me to know all his thoughts, and that it would become a problem if we didn’t control it. I knew she was right. Gran was always right. His shields were up today. When I tried to listen in, all I could hear was silence.

Around noon we left in my new jeep and headed to New Orleans. Tan drove because I still wasn’t feeling quite right. I couldn’t wait until this morning sickness business was finally over. As we drove down highway 90, he reached over and took my hand. I smiled up at him, but he just looked straight at the road. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I knew he wouldn’t tell me. I was starting to get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach by the time we made it to the Marie Lauvo’s voodoo shop Ameliana worked at. I walked in ahead of Tanner as the bell rang on the door. Ameliana was behind the counter and gave me a half