All Chapters of Voodoo Queens of New Orleans : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

** Tempus Summatum - drifter of time. One who can manipulate time. One who glides on the sands of time. When I had come back into consciousness, Aza explained to me - to us - what tempus summatum was; Sajida had left right when I passed out. Silently, like a cold, bitter wind pushing through. "It's a form of black magic," Aza said. "It's the type of magic that most witches don't go near, 'cause not only is it dark, but it can be deadly. To force your body to bend to the will of space and time, manipulating it to your benefit, is an act against nature. Against the universe. Against the gods. The concept of time is just forward, with the past having already happened, the events set in stone. We can't be jumping forward or falling backward in it

Once I finished reading the letter, I knew immediately what it meant. "I deeply enjoy you in the color red." One might wonder how Russel Van Doren could know what I looked like in red. But once I put the pieces together, the theory proved itself as more concrete: Russell Van Doren, the leader of the Council, knew me from the past. The sweat from my palms began to seep through the parchment, making it damp. I stared at the words over and over again, rereading the letter, memorizing Russell's penmanship. I did this until Mama came into the kitchen and snatched the letter from my hand. I didn't try and take it back from her; I stared at the ground, deep in thought. I couldn't move from my post. My mind began making up these images - of Russell, of me, of the past. I imagined Ru

** That skill I had learned to use was coming back into full circle - the skill of silence. The skill of quietly planning. When Sajida had left, my mind was buzzing frantically. There was a lot she knew that Mama wouldn't allow her to tell me. The only way I was going to find out any of this information was if I went to the Bayou of the Shunned to speak with her privately. But I would never tell this idea of mine to the Coterie. So, I remained silent. The Coterie looked to Mama for clarification on what just happened; on what Sajida just said. Mambo Nene, Mama's trusted advisor and the one who always comes to her defense, stepped forward and wore a look that expressed loss and confusion. "What Sajida talking 'bout, Alize?" Mambo Nene asked. "Nothing. She's crazy. Y'all know this already." "She mentioned tempus summatum," Ava Claudette said. "That same word that was mentioned last night." "Does Lisa really travel

** Hezekiah's mouth met mine, and I responded with the same urgency. We kissed deeply, almost like we couldn't get enough of each other. His hand moved from my neck up onto my head, keeping it still. My hands gripped the back of his neck as I pushed my tongue into his mouth. It was frantic, both of us eager to taste every inch of each other again. Hezekiah then pushed me onto the bed and positioned himself in front of me on his knees, staring at me and adjusting his eyes down my naked flesh. My nipples were hard, legs quivering for what was coming next. He grabbed my foot, lifted it so the sole rested on his solid chest, spreading my thighs in the process. He caressed my leg gently before he began to trail kisses, staring at my ankle, and almost making it to my calf until I nudged him. He stopped, looked at me with impatient eyes,

** My hands were firm on the steering wheel as Mikael and I journeyed through the darkened road. It had been one hour of us in the car, the city turning into country and the road transitioning into dirt and moist earth beneath my car's wheels. We kept conversation minimal the first hour because we were both nervous. Mikael, however, was more anxious than I was. He had never been to the Bayou of the Shunned, but like everyone else, had heard tales about the cursed swamp and the witch that ruled over it as its Supreme Sorceress. Sajida was the bedtime story mambos and houngans told their kids about to keep them in line; in the black community, Sajida was "that" woman that the children of voodooists were scared to encounter when the lights went out - Similar to La Llorona in Mexican folklore, a tale told to children to frighten them. Only Sajida wasn't a legend like&