Damn it, she thought, Dr Gris-gris isn’t lying!
“Okay, let’s go with that,” she said honestly. It was useless to keep pretending she had no connection with the spiritual realm.
Dr Gris-gris prepared all his equipment. He took off his black jacket, rolled up the sleeves of his red shirt, and grabbed one of the pigeons.
“Then we must work for whether the new pope will be found—and, if possible, found dead,” he said and wrung the pigeon’s neck. After detaching it from the body, he drained its blood into a bowl and continued the ritual.
Sidney was starting to feel at home now. The witchcraft living inside her came out and started to swirl madly with the spirit of voodoo, Wudun. They not only followed the rhythm and force of Mr Gris-gris’s magic, but they danced for joy to be r
