Punished by Kira Saito

an idi—” My insult was interrupted.
    “What in heavens is going on in here? I heard all the commotion; it pulled me right out of my sleep.”   Ms. Mae breezed into the room. Her green eyes were heavy from sleep, and her printed white nightgown was crumpled.
    “Oh thank God.” I was so relieved to see her that I couldn’t help but give her a massive hug.
    “Arelia, what in God’s name happened?” she asked, as she took in the sight of my ripped clothes, drenched hair and bleeding palm. “And you.” She turned her attention to Ivan. “Don’t you own any pajamas child?” She marched over to Ivan and grabbed the cognac out of his hand. “Go on now, get dressed.”
    “Yes ma’am,” Ivan mumbled, as he left the room.
    “Lucus,” I pointed to the bed.
    “Arelia, tell me what happened?” Ms. Mae firmly demanded, as she took in the grotesque state Lucus was in.
    I gave her a condensed version of the night’s events. My voice unintentionally broke out in shrills, as I recounted the horrible spirit dining on Lucus and how it had been my entire fault.
    “Calm down, calm down, my child.” Ms. Mae wrapped her arms around me and stroked my hair. She smelled like marigold and cinnamon. It was Grand-mere Bea’s signature scent. I inhaled her and immediately felt at peace. I wanted to let her hold me forever and fall asleep in her arms. Remorse flooded over me as I thought about how rude I had been to her.
    “I’m sorry, Aunt Mae.” I realized it was the first time I called her aunt. “I want to stay, I want to help. I don’t want to run anymore. I’m tired of running.”
    “Shhh,” her velvety voice hushed me.
    “I don’t know how to heal him,” I admitted. “I have no idea where to begin. I can’t keep offering my own blood to Erzulie. I don’t have enough of it.”
    “It’ll be fine Arelia. Lucus is going to be better in no time. He can’t die. He heals faster than most. Stay right here,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back. It won’t be a minute. You take this.” She grabbed a t-shirt from the closet and wrapped it around my palm. “Your hand will heal in a few hours because the offering was made to Erzulie, your protector.”
    After she left, I kneeled down by Lucus’ bedside and held his hand. It was cold, limp and covered in bloody bite marks. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should have listened to you. I’m not terribly good at listening sometimes, but I’m trying. I want to help, I do.”
    I wanted more than anything for him to respond, to say something, but he didn’t. It was like after you have a horrible fight with someone you care for; you just want some vague sign that everything will be okay, that’ll you’ll eventually kiss and makeup. I wasn’t getting any of that from Lucus. He was still, silent, and probably pissed off at me. I was livid with myself.
    Vicious raindrops beat against the large window pane and the heavy lace curtains did a strange dance, as they casted eerie shadows on the wall. Frantically, I tried to smell the air for a hint of jasmine, but instead the revolting scent of decay and rum lingered. I took it as an omen that things were about to get even more complicated and messed up.
    Aunt Mae rushed back into the room. In her hands, she carried a bunch of cloths, herbs and candles. She hastily lit a white candle and started rubbing some oil on it.
    “What is that?” I questioned.
    “Healing rituals that use herbs always need a lit white candle,” she explained. “This here is called Fiery Wall of Protection oil.” She held up the oil. “It can be used to strengthen the power of the herbs, as well to be used as powerful means of defense against supernatural attacks and threats. When you anoint a candle with it, it makes the energy of the flame all the more powerful.”
    “Spiritual attacks and threats?” She sounded so causal about the whole thing.
    “Yes. You’re a part of this world now Arelia. I’m not going to shelter you any