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

over his head, a steady stream of words spilling from her lips. His father hunkered down by the child’s leg, already fighting to get his shirt off his narrow shoulders. He wrapped it around the boy’s wound. Understandably, it took both of the adults a while to register Julien’s presence.
    “Blessed gods.” Julien feigned a gasp and stumbled, opening his eyes wide and offering up the unconscious woman in his arms. “She saved him!’
    The child’s eyes fluttered open. As soon as he saw his mother, he broke into sobs and wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her as fiercely as he’d clung to the tree. She held him closer, rocking him gently as he cried into her skirts.
    “Who are you?” Her voice wavered, though her gaze remained steady and fixed on Julien.
    “I am Julien Marcon.” He took another step, sloshing into the knee-deep water. “The gods summoned me here, I didn’t know why…” He returned his attention to Dominique. “But now I know. They brought me here to save Dom—Madame Laveau. After she saved your son from Parlangua.”
    “Parlangua?” The man—who had seemed distracted by Julien’s beard a moment before—bowed his head, a fine tremble shaking his body as he offered a rapid, near-silent prayer. “Praise the loa Madame Laveau was here.”
    The mother’s eyes were wide too, her rocking slowing though her grip on her child did not weaken. “ Mon dieu .”
    Julien nodded, encouraged and relieved that his story had been accepted so easily. Shifting form twice in such a short time span left his thoughts chaotic, and it was hard to concentrate enough for a properly convincing lie. The boy had kept his eyes closed, and between the chaos of recent events and the sheer trauma of what he’d been through, he was confident the boy wouldn’t contradict his story. Besides, any contradiction would involve a giant bird and lightning—the stuff hallucinations were made of.
    “I saw it with my own eyes,” Julien continued, warming to his tale and wishing he had a pint of rum handy. “She laid her hands on it and commanded it to stop, to leave the child alone. Parlangua released the child, then whirled on Madame Laveau.” He angled Dominique’s body to flash them her bloodied clothes, satisfied when they sucked in a breath. “I saw the beast flee and Madame Laveau collapsed to the ground. If the loa had not led me here…”
    The father clasped his hands to his chest. “Is she all right?”
    Julien cradled her carefully in his arms. “She will be. So will your son. I insist that you come with me to my home. My servants will care for Madame Laveau and your child. We must give thanks to the loa on this most blessed day.”
    “We would be grateful for your help,” the father answered solemnly. “And yes, we must praise the loa on such a day.”
    The woman struggled to her feet, her son clinging to her like a barnacle. The boy’s father tried to help, tried to take him, but the child screamed, his sobbing increasing. The woman held him closer to her, her thin body bowing under the additional weight. The strain showed in the lines on her face, but there was a determined set to her sharp jaw. Her husband stepped back, remaining close enough to help if she needed it.
     Julien glanced up at the sky. His sudden storm was all but gone, though a few dark wisps of cloud stubbornly remained. They served as reminders that he had called a storm and then abandoned it, something that left him jittery with the need to fly, the need to stretch his wings and revel in the wild energy of nature. It would be a small torture to resist that call now that he would have guests to keep him land bound. “Follow me.”
    He led the way and the couple fell into line behind him. Despite his attempts to remain composed, irritation soon had Julien biting back a curse every few feet. Each step reminded him of how much he hated the bayou, the incessant sucking of mud at his boots, the trees that seemed childish in their