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  To my boys. For there is nothing covered, that shall not be revealed; and hid, that shall not be known.

  And never forget what I’ve always quoted to you:

  When I returned, and I saw vanity under the sun …

  There is one alone, and there is not a second; yea, he hath neither child nor brother: yet is there no end of all his labour; neither is his eye satisfied with riches; neither saith he, For whom do I labour, and bereave my soul of good? This is also vanity, yea, it is a sore travail.

  Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.

  For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.

  Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?

  And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him; and a threefold cord is not quickly broken.

  Better is a poor and a wise child than an old and foolish king, who will no more be admonished.

  Together, we will rise, and we will overcome. You are my lights in the darkness and never has any mother been prouder of her sons. I love you now and forever.

  And for my grandfathers, who each taught me different life lessons.

  As always, to my most awesome Tor team for everything they do! You guys are the best! And for Robert, Linda, and Claire for being there! Thank you so very much!

  PROLOGUE

  “Oh great Ghede, rise up! Come to us and do what we say!”

  Valynda Moore rolled her eyes at Helena Day as she and her sister, Prudence, danced around the small beach fire in sheer chemises. Their loose, pale blond hair trailed about their plump shoulders as they drank rum and frolicked in the moonlight. “Your father will kill you if he sees you like this.”

  Taking another deep drink from the bottle before she passed it over to her sister, Helena scoffed at her. “Don’t be such a ninny prig! Come and join us.”

  Seated on the ground beside Valynda, Margaret Latimer turned to another page in the book she was reading. She glanced up toward Helena. “It says here to scatter the white rum with herbs to entice him from his sea kingdom.”

  Pru quit dancing to blink at Margie. “Scatter it where?”

  “The fire, no doubt.” Helena grabbed the rum back from her sister’s hand, and before Valynda could warn her that it was highly flammable, slung it at the flames.

  The girls shrieked as it exploded toward the heavens and caused hot, sparkling embers from the sea breeze to rain down on them.

  Except for Valynda, who never screamed, and especially not over such foolery. Rather she thought them ridiculous in their drunken revelry.

  “Now toss in the herbs!” Margie reminded them.

  Herbs which also turned out to be highly flammable, as there was no telling what those silly lunatics had gathered for their summoning ritual so that they could entice the ancient being they wanted to ask about their future husbands.

  As if!

  After shrieking and hollering some more over the small explosion they caused, they returned to singing their lude chant to invoke their Voodoo spirit.

  Her ears ringing from the raucous cacophony, Valynda sighed in irritation. It was more than she could take. It was one thing for her friends to tell her they planned to be this ridiculous, it was another to witness it firsthand and lose all respect for them. She’d tried on multiple occasions to tell them that the ghede Nibo was the spirit for the dead and wouldn’t know anything about their would-be husbands. Still, they kept insisting … provided he existed at all, which Valynda highly doubted. Such was her very nature.

  And they call me ridiculous for my sanity.

  Worse, they’d ignored her completely, while they went around the island compiling a list of what they’d need to perform a hokey Voodoo ritual from the hodgepodge of people Val was rather certain had been mocking them.

  Unable to stand any more acoustic abuse, Valynda pushed herself to her feet, intending to head home.

  Helena tossed more rum on the fire. “Oh great Ghede, come to us and do what we say!”

  Valynda ducked the flames as the fire exploded around her. Enough already! They were about to summon the watch and be caught.

  Just as she was ready to caution them again over the folly of their actions—and their would-be arson—a huge shadow appeared on the dark beach before them. Like some great fulsome demonic beast, it rose to tower above them, twisting and writhing in a way that made even Valynda gasp. Its cape billowed out as a cane appeared by its side. A cane topped with a skull that matched his evil face. Opening its bony mouth, the cane appeared to scream, then it vomited fire.

  Margie screamed.

  A second later, she fainted onto the pale sand.

  Helena ran, leaving her sister behind to fend for herself. Shrieking and waving her hands over her head, Prudence wet herself before she ran in the opposite direction, with her book forgotten on the beach. Bemused by it all, Valynda stood frozen.

  Deep, masculine laughter rang out as that hideous skeletal face turned into one of a handsome, fetching man. One with a riot of dark curls that hugged a perfectly sculpted jaw dusted with whiskers and eyes so vivid and playful, they were beguiling. This was exactly what her friends had been trying to summon and yet he mocked them for it.

  Indeed, the infernal beast dared to laugh over the very chaos and panic he’d caused. The humiliation her friends had suffered at his callous hands.

  And that set off Valynda’s anger that he’d dare such at their expense, especially given the blatant disregard he showed her friend who lay passed out at his feet. “Really? Is this how you entertain yourself? A grown man, frightening schoolgirls? What’s wrong with you?”

  His laughter died instantly. With an unearthly slowness, he turned to face her, which only confirmed what she’d already noted. He truly was the most handsome man she’d ever seen in the flesh. There was a most unnatural aura of power that clung to him. One that set off the hairs on the backs of her arms and made them stand upright. It let her and everyone else know that he was not one to be reckoned with. Rather, he was used to doing the reckoning. “You dare chastise me?”

  Her common sense told her to back down and be the meek maid her father had tried his best to make her, but it wasn’t in Valynda to cow to anyone. Male or female. So she spoke her mind and prepared herself for whatever dire consequences might be about to rain down on her. “For being a churlish knave? Aye. Of course I do.”

  Nibo was aghast as he saw the tiny woman who stood in brave defiance. Never in all the centuries he’d lived after his death had he met a human who wasn’t a little intimidated by him.
Terrified, point of fact. Most scurried away at his approach, and those were the ones who wanted a favor from him and had dutifully invoked him with gifts.

  Until now.

  Confused and baffled, he stared at the puzzle who was only passably attractive. While her body was comely enough, she was a bit lanky for his tastes. Her nose rather narrow and long. The only really striking thing about her was her eyes. A rich dark brown, they were searing with their intelligence, and raw with curiosity.

  Marked by her condemnation.

  For him.

  Seriously? How dare she, a mere human, give him such a look! “Do you know who I am, girl?” More to the point, what he was.

  She narrowed that censoring gaze with an audacity that was quite cheeky and bold, if not downright foolhardy given that he’d feasted on the flesh and bones of creatures that made monsters cry. “Aye. The giant cod-dangle who scared my friends within a quarter inch of their lives.”

  He scowled at the unfamiliar term. “Cod, what?”

  “Dangle,” she repeated, then lowered her gaze to the center of his body to illustrate what she was calling him.

  While Nibo was amused by her reckless spirit, the most astonishing part was that he actually felt his body stirring.

  What the hell was that?

  She aroused him? How?

  This mere slip of a human piece? A pasty pale skirtling who insulted him and looked at him as if he were the cloying slag caught on the hem of her best gown? Surely Anansi and Papa Legba were playing mehen over this, and betting against him right now.

  Yet there was no denying the sudden hunger for her that he felt. Especially when he stepped closer and caught the lily scent of her dark brown hair that was tinted with just a hint of red in it—like fire captured in an evening sky. While she wore it tightly coiled and pinned about her head, he wondered what it would look like were he to free it of that cantankerous knot that seemed to be an offense to the curls surrounding a face that was suddenly growing on him.

  Aye, she was much more fetching than he’d first thought. There was something about her that drew him in and warmed a deep, cold part of his soul.

  Did she have any idea how very dangerous that was to one of his ilk? “Tell me, girl, why did you summon a ghede?”

  For the first time, he saw a hint of fear flash through her dark gaze. “W-What?”

  “You heard me. What is it that a European daughter would want with one of us?”

  Valynda hesitated as she realized he was staring with a peculiar interest down at the cross she wore about her neck. Her jaw went slack as she stepped back and took another look at the beautiful man in front of her.

  A real ghede …

  They weren’t just stories made up by the islanders to scare them. They were real! And he was one of them. Holy saints!

  Could her lunatic friends have really summoned him to this world? Was it possible?

  Trying to calm herself, Valynda wasn’t quite sure what one would look like, but certainly not this fine specimen of male attractiveness. It just didn’t seem plausible or right given the effigies and drawings that were strung up all over the island.

  At well over six feet in height, he was the last thing she’d ever expect of such a terrifying entity. Dressed in a loose-fitting light blue shirt, he had sun-kissed caramel skin that covered a body taut with rippling muscles. Amber eyes that were searing with their intelligence and torment, as if he had a secret that only he knew. A riot of dark, shoulder-length curls framed a face that had been sculpted to masculine perfection. Indeed, she’d never seen anyone more handsome. There was an air about him of power and charisma unlike anything she’d ever beheld before. Something that made her want to walk into his arms and at the same time turn and run as far away as she could. He was terrifying.

  And beguiling.

  Because there was no doubt that he was equally as lethal as he was beautiful. And his fashion showed that he didn’t give a fig what others thought of him. Indeed, he had a number of long pheasant feathers attached to his hair that fell over his chest to trail to his waist. Along with a light beard and an earring that gave him the appearance of one of the pirates her father’s stepbrother was so fond of convicting and hanging in cages to rot along the shoreline as a warning to others who dared to venture here to their island home.

  Swallowing hard, Valynda shook her head and made a solemn observation she prayed she didn’t live to regret. “You’re japing. You’re not really a ghede.”

  He arched a brow as a devilish grin lifted one corner of those delectable lips. A low, musical laugh rumbled from his chest. “I’m not just any ghede, gel. I’m the leader of the dead.”

  Now she knew he was messing with her. Surely a psychopomp would have much better things to do than torment her and her friends, given the number of people slain in and around the islands in this day and age. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “On with you now. I’ve no time for this.”

  “You don’t believe me?” he asked incredulously.

  “That a ghede has nothing better to do than scare schoolgirls? Nay, sir, I don’t believe you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I needs see about my friends.”

  As she started to help Margie, he appeared in front of her.

  Out of the blue.

  Startled and alarmed, Valynda pulled up short. “How did you do that?”

  His grin turned teasing. “Told you. I’m Ghede Nibo.” He held a small silver ring toward her. “You’ve intrigued me, Valynda Moore. Check on your friends, and when you’re ready to learn more about me, call my name … without the theatrics.”

  An instant later, he was gone and the ring was on her finger.

  Suddenly shaking, Valynda stood beneath the light of the full moon in complete shock. Her jaw went slack as she held the ring up to see the skull and crossbones that had been impressed deep into the band. It was beautiful, in a morbid way.

  A silver ring of mourning.

  “How did he know my name?”

  1

  1717 Port Royal

  Nibo stared down at the scars on his finger where his old silver mourning ring used to rest. A ring he’d placed on his hand as a memorial for his beautiful Aclima and had once vowed to never remove. He still had no idea what had possessed him to hand it off so recklessly to Valynda the night they’d met. Not after he’d spent centuries guarding it so.

  He hadn’t even thought twice about letting her have the one thing he treasured most.…

  Strange how he could still feel it there even though he’d given it over so long ago to a mere slip of a woman to hold for safekeeping.

  Along with a part of his anatomy he’d deny having if anyone was stupid enough to ask. ’Course it wouldn’t be a lie to deny its existence now, given that Val had possession of that damnable organ he’d never had any use for as it had never done anything other than lead him into the fiery pits of damnation.

  Still …

  He missed that ring.

  Sadly, he missed Valynda more.

  Valynda Moore …

  The mere thought of her name made him smile.

  And that instantly made him sneer in disgust, as he realized what the hell his body had done without consulting him.

  Again.

  “Ye gods,” he muttered to himself, “I’ve gone mad.”

  Perhaps he’d handed over his brains as well as his heart. What would he lose next? His bullocks?

  His dignity?

  Shite! To this day, he still didn’t know how it was that he’d managed to let himself be dragged into the mess that was his wretched existence. Or come to care for a human the way he did his Val.

  And was it any wonder given what his love had done to her?

  He’d ruined her life.

  Nay, he’d ended it.

  Just as he’d done Aclima. He winced at a memory he could never bear to think about for long. If he did, it would drive him mad.

  Furious at himself and the very gods who conspired against them
, he downed his rum and fought against the raging anger that had become his constant companion, instead of the one person he’d wanted most by his side.

  “What’s this? You’re looking a bit gloomy, aren’t you?”

  Nibo glanced up from the spiced rum he was drinking to see the tall, dark menace who’d decided to join him in the crowded tavern where he sat alone at this midnight hour. Alone by choice, not because he was a mutant like the beast before him that everyone avoided because he was an ass. Which was why Nibo had deliberately chosen his solitary table that was tucked back into a shadowy alcove, thinking it would provide him with some degree of privacy and anonymity.

  Bugger that. He should have known better. The damned, along with everyone else, were forever seeking him out. For all manner of reasons. Most of which normally pissed him off, and none as much as whatever stupidity would soon be spilling from this creature’s lips.

  With an annoyed sigh over this unwanted interruption, Nibo raked a bored glare from the top of the dark hair, past his mismatched eyes, to the tips of his scuffed black boots. “Stating the obvious now, are you, mate?” After all, Nibo was the loa of the dead. Gloomy rather came with the territory.

  As did a raunchy temper. And derelict disposition.

  Though, given enough rum, he could be persuaded into bouts of cheeriness and debauchery. In fact, he could be downright giddy if the occasion called for it.

  This, however, wasn’t such an occasion.

  Though a good and thorough gutting and denutting of the beast before him might serve to cheer his spirits. At least for a moment or two.

  “Come now, is that any way to greet an old enemy?”

  Nibo smirked as he modified his welcome to a feigned mixture of jolly alacrity. “Jaden … as I live and breathe. To what do I owe this particular hell?”

  A slow, beguiling smile curved his lips as Jaden stepped forward into the dim, buttery light cast by stinking tallow candles that made his one green eye glow with mischievous intent. That eye was a stark contrast to its deep, dark disconcerting brown mate.