"Ema, where is Abba going?" the little girl asked as she intently observed the menfolk continue about their business.

Ema had the candles lit in preparation for supper. They had been carefully conserving the candles, but today was special. The torches burned outside. It was so hard to see in the darkness. The little girl looked out the window. Outside her home's walls, hewn from rough, cut stone she could see everyone was in an uproar. The girl shivered despite the fire in the hearth.

The little girl's mother looked at her with eyes filled with worry. "Nothing, child. Abba has to do this to protect our family," said her mother as she put her hand on the girl's head. "Please, eat."

The little girl look at the bare, wooden table. They had not had much to eat these days. The Pharaoh had taken so much from them. But what was laid out this evening was a feast. There was fresh lamb, roasted over the fire with bitter herbs and unleavened bread. She just wished she could enjoy it without worrying about her father. The little girl took the bread and broke it. The texture was soft, the bread warm to the touch.

"What's wrong child? Has the matzo gone cold?"

The little girl shook her head. "Ema, why is Abba going with all the men? Aaron and Elijah both say there is blood on our doorsteps."

"Eat your lamb Ariel. We do not know when our next feast will be. We must enjoy good things when they come our way."

"Ema, will Yahweh protect us?" the little girl asked, frightened.

Her mother signed. "I do not know, child."

"Yahweh has brought the nine plagues upon the Pharaoh and his people. Even as we speak, the night never ends. We are cast into darkness now, who knows when we shall see the light of day? And yet he still won't let us go. Can Moshe truly deliver us?"

The girl's mother smiled and looked at her. "We must trust Yahweh. He will deliver us from the Pharaoh and slavery and lead us into the promised land."

"Ema, why must we suffer so?"

"You are asking many difficult questions this evening, child. Hush and eat your supper."

"Ema, what is coming tonight? Why is there blood on the doorposts? Why is Abba taking the blood of the spring lamb and marking the sides and tops of our doorframes with it?"  

"Eat fast, Ariel. It is coming."

"Ema, what is coming?"

Her mother sighed. "Deliverance."

Her mother looked out the door at the land filled with darkness. "A never-ending night has cast Egypt into darkness," she continued. "Tonight, comes a plague deadlier than the nine that have come before it. This night, a dreadful power passes over Egypt to smite the firstborn of every man, woman, child and beast."

The little girl rubbed her arms as the goosebumps came. A strange nameless fear bubbled up from within her and got caught in her throat. She wanted to cry out but was unable to speak.

Her mother smiled. "You must not fear, Ariel. We are the chosen people. We will not be harmed."

"But for the Egyptians, the Pharaoh, things will be different. Tonight, the Lord's justice and judgment will be executed upon all the gods of Egypt. We shall remember this night, this Pesach, for all history," her mother took her face in both hands and looked gravely at her.

"Tonight, God unleashes the Angel of Death upon Egypt."  

***

A bad dream. When the dreams came, they lingered; vapory wisps that clutched at the edges of my consciousness.

I woke up with a start in an unknown bed.The beddings were clean, but I had drenched the sheets. I didn't have my clothes on either. I had a soft nightgown on now. Pink. A nice touch. There were bandages over my shoulder. The room was warm and comfortable.

I looked around. It was probably early morning. Sunlight filtered through the room giving it a warm ambience. Bookshelves lined the walls and an old but beautiful antique lamp had been placed next to the shelves. There was a small night light plugged into one of the receptacles and it glowed warmly in the dim light.

My bed was beautifully made, crowned with a luxurious tufted headboard that acted like the room's centerpiece. The quilted sheets were soft, inviting if not drenched with my sweat. I squinted my eyes. That lamp looked familiar. In fact, this whole room looked familiar.

Daniel!

"You're awake." Daniel's voice broke the stillness.

He was sitting beside me. This was Shelly's; Daniel's younger sister's room. She was off around the world somewhere. Switzerland? Off to marry some Swiss banker and then onward to gallivanting around the world. When I was younger, this was where I stayed whenever I spent time with the Ashcrofts in New Orleans.

"I'm sorry, we had to remove your clothes to clean your wound," he said, looking away. "I found you at Jackson Square, bloody and close to collapsing. You were attacked."

Yes, I remembered. I didn't feel any pain now. It was strange because the wound was most certainly excruciating.

I remember everything.

I died. Death brought me back.

Rina. Katsujinken. The little girl. What did Rina call her? Azazel?

"Haley Wellington isn't it?" said Daniel. "We met briefly at Steven Rutherford's party." He put up his hands. "Listen I know what this might look like, but I can assure you nothing improper's taken place. I'm a gentleman. It was the maids who dressed you, you have to believe me. You're safe here for the time being. No one's taken advantage of you."

I shook my head. "No, it's not that. It's just things are happening around me so suddenly."

"Did you see or recognize your attacker?"

"No. I don't remember what happened," I lied. All the better for Daniel not to be involved.

"Your wounds healed up well. Your clothes were so bloody, I was sure you had a grave injury, but when we looked at it, it was just a minor cut."

Minor cut?

Thank my lucky stars for the Death Angel constitution. Apparently, I heal faster than the average human too.

"Is there, anyone you would like me to contact Haley? Richard Grim, maybe? A significant other perhaps?"

Sly way of asking if I was available, Daniel.

I knew Daniel well enough to know that Haley Wellington was totally his type. Still, he was supposed to be grieving. Grieving for me.

I shook my head. "No, I'm a bit of a solitary person. I'd better get going." I tried to stand up, but suddenly felt light headed.

"Please, you mustn't do that. You haven't been examined by a doctor." Daniel sighed. "You kept saying it, over and over again: 'Don't take me to a hospital, just leave me here.'"

Daniel stood up and started pacing. "Look, Haley, you must think I'm the biggest busybody in the world, and the truth is, maybe I am sticking my nose in your business, but I just couldn't leave you there all bloody on the streets. Who know what could have happened to you."

I don't think you're a busybody Daniel. I know you are. But I loved that about you. You never could say no to a damsel in distress.

I looked into his eyes. I wanted to know.

Was it you Daniel? Did you betray me and send me to my death?

"I'm grateful, Daniel. I'm sorry I forgot my manners."

"No, that's understandable, you've been through a lot. You've been asleep for days actually." Daniel's eyes were filled with worry. "Listen Haley, I know this is strange because I hardly even know you, and you probably think I'm a creep, but you remind me so much of..."

He stopped talking.

Go ahead Daniel, say it.

I was about to break down and cry. Tell him everything. To hell with Death and Rina Tanaka and to hell with Hunter Robotics and my father's legacy. None of that mattered without Daniel by my side.

"I'm sorry. You barely even know me and here I am going on and on about something you don't even care about," Daniel said but stopped abruptly. "You're crying," he said. "This must be too much for you."

I didn't even notice the tears. They had come unbidden, warm upon my cheeks as I softly sobbed.

You're right Daniel, this is too much for me.

"Perhaps this was a terrible idea after all. Look, let me at least drive you to where you want to go."

Why did it have to be you Daniel? Why was it you who found me at Jackson Square? Wasn't it enough to have killed me once? Are you going to kill me again?

"Look," I began. "I... I'm a little unsure of things right now. And since you were kind enough to be a good samaritan to me..." I said, and smiled at him. "I guess I really wouldn't mind taking advantage of your hospitality for a few more days." I stopped after that, a little unsure of what to say.

It's like before we dated all over again. I don't know what you're thinking, you don't know what I'm thinking. But my pulse quickens every time you talk.

"If that's alright with you, that is," I continued.

Daniel's eyes lit up. "It's more than ok!" he exclaimed, then turned red in the face. "I mean, I'd be more than happy to put you up for a few more nights. Besides, I'm really worried about you. It really wouldn't do to have you be out and about."

I want to trust you Daniel. Make me trust you. Tell me you aren't my killer.

I smiled and looked around. I knew Shelly's room well. Shelly and I were good friends. She was several years younger than I was, but we really hit it off. Daniel was so overprotective of Shelly back in the day. I was surprised to see he let me stay in her room when we were young. But that was Daniel for you.

The only person he ever let into Shelly's room was good ole' Vanessa Hunter. Why all the sudden favors for Haley Wellington?

I recognized all that surrounded me now. The smells, the things. I looked around and each object brought back a memory. Shelly's trophies. She was a swimmer, and a fast one at that. I saw all her gold medals. "Things to keep score with, but unimportant in the grand scheme of things," she used to joke back then. I saw the little shells we would gather up on Lake Michigan in the summer. I can't believe she kept them with them even after they moved.

"Those are my sister's,"  Daniel said, noticing my interest. "This was her room. I'm sorry, I just didn't feel comfortable putting you in just any room."

Well aren't you the Casanova.

"Look," Daniel began again. "You need to rest. There's plenty of time for us to talk. The important thing is that you're awake, and you seem to be alright. I'll have the maids attend to you. If you're hungry, the chef can whip you up something. If you need anything, anything at all, you've only but to ask."

I nodded my head and slipped back into the covers.

I could get used to this, Daniel.

But used to the deception, or the love? I wondered, as I drifted off to sleep.

***

I woke up and the early morning sunlight filtered through the windows. I must have slept through the entire day again. This new day felt rather different. I felt at home knowing where I was now. I heard the birds chirping outside, and I felt peaceful. I really yearned for a cup of coffee. A Caramel Macchiato at Starbucks would hit the spot right about now. I remember Daniel and I would go really early in the day.

I could settle for a good ole' cup of joe right now. Black, no cream no sugar. A Donnie Hunter favorite. I needed the caffeine.

"You're up ma'am," one of the maids spoke to me. I didn't realize I had company. I looked at her.

She was well dressed, her uniform neatly pressed. She seemed very nice, friendly and pretty.

I smiled. "Yes, thank you so much for taking care of me," I said.

"You're different," she said. "You don't talk like the others."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't put on the same airs..." her voice trailed. "I... I am going to get in trouble for telling you this," she continued.

"Telling me what?"

"Cabrit sans cor." The servant said, pointing to me.

"Come again?"

"My family traces its roots to the plantations back in the day. Back when we were still referred to as colored people; when we were still slaves." she said.

I sighed. "Please, this is a different time, must we talk of such things?"

The young woman smiled at me, but her expression turned grave after. "I am fortunate to live in such times. But my grandmother always said that Louisiana and it's people, will never forget. We will always remember the cotton plantations. The fear of the cracker's whip. There are things that cannot, should never be forgotten."

I understood. I nodded, not really knowing what to say.

"And there are secrets in New Orleans; things that go bump in the night, nameless fears and incantations that should never be uttered anywhere. You are in grave danger, Vanessa Hunter."

"How did you know to call me by my name?" I asked.

The servant smiled. "Do not fear. Your secret is safe with me. I seek only to protect you. There are things in this world that man was never meant to trifle with. Forces that seek to harm you for who you are."

"You see much. Miss..."

"Dutillet. Martine Dutillet," she answered. She darted around furtively before putting her hand in a coat pocket. She retrieved a tiny leather bound amulet and placed it in my hands.

"It is gris-gris." she said.

"A Voodoo talisman?" I asked, a bit surprised. The thing felt heavy in my hand. A piece of string ran through it.

"Not just any gris-gris, cherie. This is Tuareg gris-gris. It is ancient, passed down from my family through generations. Sealed with verses from the Qu'ran. You are no ordinary person. It is not such a stretch now for you to believe in things not of this world," said Martine.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, such an important thing to you, I cannot accept it."

"I am lending it to you, cherie. Do not refuse it. You are in grave danger, but I cannot tell you anymore than that. Take the gris-gris. It will protect you."

"Why are you helping me?"

"I must leave now. Don't forget, Cabrit sans cor." she said as she left the room, softly closing the door behind her.

I sat there for a few moments pondering what Martine had told me, thinking about what my next actions were supposed to be.

There was a knock at the door. "May I come in?"

It was Daniel. "Yes, give me a moment" I said. I had decided it was time for me to be up and about. I rose from the bed and grabbed a robe before Daniel could come in.

Daniel waited a while before coming in. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "very comfortably so."

"Good," he said smiling.

I pointed toward the door. "How long has Martine worked for you?"

"Martine?" asked Daniel, a puzzled look on his face.

"Yes, the African-American lady. Well-spoken, very pretty, with intense eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about, Haley. There is no one here who fits that description."

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