"You know there's a special hell for people like you, right?
"Surely." Winston's laugh went on long enough to convince Jasfoup he'd been smoking already. "So what did you want?"
"I sent you a picture of a cutting? I need to know what it means."
"Right, yeah. I looked at that. Scary shit. Stay away from it. I know I will."
"Why? What does it mean?"
"I've no idea. Not exactly, anyway. It's a verve, as you probably guessed, but it's not one I've come across before. Whereas all the ones to call the loa have subtle and unique variations according to the voodoo priest drawing them, the one you sent isn't like any of the others."
"So it's a different loa? One not used by the houngans?"
"No." Jasfoup could hear Winston sucking air through his teeth. "And yes. The lines are older than the usual verves and not so fussy. Like the difference between a carved lintel over a church doorway and an RSJ. This one you sent me is to get the job done."
"What job though? Who –or what-- does it call?"
"That's the thing, man." Winston hissed. "I wouldn't want to find out."