“Mom, it’s not your fault.” The words are from me. “We survived it. We’re happy, productive, healthy women.”
“I’m so grateful. Did you see your father?”
We’re silent as we stare at Mama in the front seat. “Did you see him?” Brielle asks.
“I did. And he wasn’t happy to see me.”
“Mama, are you a medium?” Daphne asks.
“Of course.” Mama brushes her fingers through her hair. “Before I go home, I’d like to see Millie’s café, if you don’t mind. Daphne, I’ll have a look at your shop the next time we’re out, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure thing,” Daphne says.
There is so much we need to talk about. I’ll tell my sisters we need to get together tomorrow.
The rest of the ride into the city is quiet as we’re all lost in thought. I breathe a sigh of relief when Daphne parks in front of Witches Brew.
This is my familiar place, my home, my safety.
We walk through it with Mama, who seems genuinely delighted by everything I’ve done. She sips her white chocolate mocha and sits on one of the purple sofas, looking around.
“I’m so proud of you, Millicent. This is a beautiful place, and I can see why it’s a success.”
“Thank you.”
“I saw the potions on your board.” I steel myself against the incoming criticism, but Mama just grins. “I could teach you the recipe for a little potion for healing, in case someone comes in with a headache or a sprained ankle. That sort of thing.”
I blink rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. This is exactly what I’ve longed for all of my life.
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
She nods happily and takes another look around my reading nook. “You have two little girls who hang around here, don’t you?”
Brielle lets out a surprised laugh, and I can’t help but join her. “Yeah, I hear I do. Brielle and Lucien see them, too.”
“You don’t?” Mama asks.
“No, because I have shields in place to block spirits. I inherently read their thoughts, and it’s too dangerous for me.”
Mama nods. “I understand. I’m glad you have your shields. Well, we should probably be going.”
We walk to the front of the café, and I wave at Esme, who’s manning the counter for me today.
When we step outside, I almost run right into Dahlia. “Whoa! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“I was just coming over for an afternoon caffeine hit,” she says with a laugh. “Oh, hello.”
“Mama, this is Dahlia. Dahlia, this is my mom, Ruth.”
Dahlia reaches out to shake Mama’s hand, but Mom doesn’t take it. “Are you Dahlia Bergeron?”
“That’s right,” Dahlia says.
“Your family was part of the dark coven.”
“Yes, most still are, but that wasn’t for me. I’ve been working with Lucien as an apprentice so I can join his coven.”
“Oh. Well, how nice.” Mama walks around Dahlia as if she’s wary of her. “I’d like to go home now, please.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dahlia says with a wave, but Mama doesn’t reply. She steps into Daphne’s car and doesn’t give us another glance as the two drive away.
“She’s had a busy day,” Brielle adds. “She’ll need some rest tonight.”
“I put a potion in her coffee,” I reply. “It’ll help her sleep and calm her mind.”
“Good.”
“Well, I’d better be off,” Dahlia says and crosses the street, headed back to her shop.
“I have to go home and take a nap before my date tonight.” I glance over at Brielle, who’s grinning at me. “What?”
“We always knew Lucien was for you, but you were too stubborn to admit it.”
“It’s one date.”
“Right.”
Chapter Ten
Millie
“I can’t believe I tried on nine dresses,” I say as I blow out a breath and perch on the edge of my bed where Sanguine sits, watching with judgy, mismatched eyes. “I know, it’s ridiculous. But it’s our first date. Well, in this lifetime, anyway. And I want to look nice.”
I’m in my underwear now, a matching black bra and panty set, and I’ve hung two of the dresses side by side so I can sit and ponder which one I like best for the occasion.
“I might not come home tonight,” I inform my familiar. It’s been wonderful having Sanguine with me. A witch without a familiar is a sad thing. A companion to help with magic, and I’ve always loved having a little friend around. Sanguine has settled in seamlessly. It’s as if she’s belonged here all along.
Which is exactly as it should be.
“And don’t judge me about it. Oh, and if I do come home with Lucien, don’t judge me for that, either.” I glance down at my cat and see her eyes narrowed. “I’m an adult woman, and if I want to have sex, I will. And something tells me that sex with Lucien will be off the damn charts.”
I walk over to the dresses and choose the deep red one with the flowy sleeves and a V-neck that plunges to the center of my breasts. With this bra, my cleavage is impressive.
I slip into the silk and twirl in front of the mirror, pleased with my decision.
“The feelings I have for him are strong,” I admit. “I know now that it’s probably because our souls have been linked for so many years, but it was unnerving to be seventeen and, with one look, know that I was born to be with him. And, of course, I’m a stubborn person, so I fought it for what seems like forever. But you know what, Sanguine?”
I turn and see her watching me intently.
“I don’t want to fight it anymore. It feels too good to be with him. And now we can move forward together. Because as crazy as it might sound, I’m ready to share my life with him.”
I run a brush through my long hair and stare at myself in the mirror.
“And it’s our first date.” I can’t help but laugh. “Well, no one ever accused me of being ordinary, so I guess my love life shouldn’t be either.”
I don’t usually wear a lot of makeup, but tonight I take my time with my eyes, giving them just a bit of a smokiness and then smooth red lipstick on my lips.
I slip my feet into black boots with a chunky heel because I have a hunch we’ll be walking a bit, and heels won’t work for that in or around New Orleans.
That reminds me. I need to walk down to Head Over Heels next week and ask Charly if she’d like a booth at the Halloween street party this year.
I make a mental note and then turn to Sanguine with my hands out at my sides.
“Well? What do you think?”
“Meow.”
“Thank you.” The doorbell rings, and butterflies immediately fill my stomach. “I don’t know why I’m nervous. There’s no need to be.”
I grab my black shawl for when it gets cool after dark, along with my black clutch, and hurry down the steps. When I open the door, the words I was about to say die on my lips, and I can only stare at the beautiful man in front of me.
His brown hair is tamed and styled away from his face. His dark glasses frame his intense blue eyes, and his square jaw has recently been shaved.
But what his body does to the white button-down and sport coat he’s wearing is most likely illegal. His legs are long and showcased in a pair of dark slacks, and I have a moment of pure female satisfaction when he takes a long perusal of me, looking from head to toe and has to swallow hard before speaking.
“You’re a damn vision, Millicent.”
“Thank you. You look pretty fabulous yourself.” I back up so he can come inside and notice the flowers in his hand for the first time.
“These are for you.”
I can’t believe it. Lucien didn’t bring me roses or tulips. He brought forget-me-nots.
“How did you know that these are my favorite?”
He gives me a look like really?
“Did you know there’s an old wives’ tale that says these flowers can protec
t people from witches?” I laugh as I carry the bouquet to the kitchen to quickly put them in some fresh water.
“Of course,” he says. “They were planted all over Salem. Never affected me.”
I smirk and pet a soft petal. “I love this color. It’s happy. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He plants a kiss on my bare shoulder, right next to the silk of my dress. “This is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in all of my lifetimes.”
I made the right choice. “Good.” I turn to him and kiss him lightly. “That was the goal. Now, I hope you’re planning to feed me, because I’m starving.”
“I have a reservation at Café Amalie.”
“Excellent. That’s my favorite place.”
“I asked Brielle where I should take you.”
“At least that’s one thing you don’t already know about me.”
“The restaurants in the Quarter were vastly different a hundred years ago,” he says with a laugh, and I just stand and stare at him.
“Were we here a hundred years ago?”
His face turns serious, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Yes. And if you don’t want me to speak of those things, I’ll stop. I don’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable. It’s just nice to be able to talk about it a bit. I’ve never been able to before.”
“It doesn’t scare me,” I assure him. “It’s a little startling at first, but I like knowing. I want you to be able to talk to me, Lucien. Especially when it comes to matters that pertain to us. And this certainly falls into that category.”
“Thank you.” He leans in to kiss my forehead. “Now, as much as I’d like to keep you here all to myself and worship every inch of your body, I think we should go on our date.”
“I don’t mind staying in.”
His smile is quick and pleased, but he just takes my hand and leads me toward the door.
“Meow.”
“Don’t wait up.” I wink at Sanguine and follow Lucien outside. We walk down to the sidewalk, and I stop and frown. “Where’s your car?”
“Right here.” He points to a little Porsche convertible with the top down. It’s white with a red interior and makes my mouth water. “I thought we could take this little girl out tonight.”
“Jesus, Lucien,” I mutter when he opens the door for me. “The blood business must pay well.”
He walks around the car and sinks in next to me, then roars the engine to life.
“It doesn’t do badly,” he says with a wink. I hold my hair back with my hand as he takes off, and then close my eyes, enjoying the breeze as it flows over my skin. I’m an air sign and have always been able to manipulate the air around me. I love the way it feels.
As I don’t live far from the Quarter, it’s not long before we’re parked and walking into the restaurant where we’re seated in the courtyard.
“Good evening, I’m Joe, your waiter tonight.”
I can’t stop looking at Lucien as Joe rattles off the specials, gives us recommendations, and then leaves with our wine order, thanks to the man sitting across from me.
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
“Nope.” I look down at the menu and try to get my libido under control. “I usually get the Brussels sprouts. They’ve managed to make a mediocre vegetable taste like candy.”
“That’s a must then,” he agrees.
“And I’ll probably do the fish special.”
I close the menu and set it aside. I’m fidgety. Finally, Lucien reaches over, takes my hand, and links our fingers. I immediately calm. The current of electricity that runs between us could spark a fire, but just like earlier when we were in the car at the house in the bayou, I’m wrapped in cool calm.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” he says. “You’re with me, and I’m the safest place you’ll ever be, a stór mo chroí. Let’s just enjoy this meal at this lovely restaurant and let me pine after you for a while.”
“You say some sweet things,” I say. “But by all means, pine away.”
* * *
Dinner was delicious and romantic. Lucien shared bites of his chicken with me, and I fed him pieces of fish. We laughed and talked about our careers and our goals there.
It was a very normal first-date dinner.
“Do you feel up to a walk?” I ask when we return to the car. “Not through the Quarter, but down at Audubon Park? It’s a lovely evening, and I bet the old oak trees will look amazing as the sun sets.”
“Of course,” he says and immediately drives us six miles out of the heart of downtown to the beautiful park that is my favorite part of the city. He parks near one of the walking paths and takes my hand as we meander through the green trees that fill the huge park.
“I love this place,” I admit as we approach a stone bridge that crosses over a river that runs through the heart of the park. “I don’t take many days off, but when I do, and if I don’t have a commitment with Miss Sophia and the coven, I come here to walk and enjoy this place.”
I lead him off the path to a clearing that’s surrounded by ancient oak trees, their heavy limbs touching the ground.
“I like to have picnics, right here, in this spot. I’ve always felt drawn to it.”
Lucien, who’s been quiet since we arrived, takes a deep breath and then looks down at me. “Would you like to know why?”
“Sure, tell me why I’m randomly drawn to this part of a random park.”
“Well, the arbor was right here,” he says, pointing to a specific spot on the grass. “And the chairs were set up over there. And right where you’re sitting is where we stood and exchanged vows, roughly one hundred years ago.”
I feel my jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water, but I can’t make my brain engage.
“Your hair was shorter then, but it was the roaring twenties, and that was the style. And your white dress was beautiful.”
“We got married, right here,” is all I can say.
“Yes.”
I look around and feel sudden, intense sadness. My eyes fill with tears, and suddenly, Lucien’s holding me, rocking me back and forth.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, darlin’.”
“I wish I could remember. In all the years I’ve been having the dreams, I only see the bad things. The scary stuff. I don’t get to see the joy and love we shared. I feel robbed.”
“I can see that,” he says and kisses the top of my head. “Maybe we can figure out a way for me to show you sometime.”
“The spell you conjured this morning might let me see your memories.”
“It’s worth looking into. But for now, let’s enjoy what’s happening today, Millicent.”
“How long were we married?”
“Which time?”
“All of the times? How long did our marriages last? In Salem, I remember thinking that we’d been married for almost ten years.”
“I think the longest was about thirty years. The shortest, a few months.”
I sigh and kiss the middle of his chest before pulling back and looking up at him. “But we never parted of natural causes, in old age.”
“No.” He brushes his thumb over my forehead. “That’s my goal in this lifetime.”
“My stubbornness cost us some time.”
“No, things are happening the way they’re supposed to. You’re not yet thirty. These days, that’s not old to marry.”
“It’s a far cry from sixteen,” I say with a laugh, remembering that he said I was that age the first time we met, all those centuries ago.
“Very true. I think that’s a step in the right direction for feminism,” he says. “By the way, do you have plans for your birthday next week?”
“How did you know—?”
He raises a brow, and I blow a raspberry through my lips.
“Our birthdays are always the same? My goddess, are we just living the same lives, over and over again until we get it right?”
He doesn’t reply, just frowns and looks down at his shoes, and I know I’ve just hit the nail on the head.
“Lucien.”
“I think that’s the case, yes.”
“Well, damn. That’s heavy.”
Lucien pulls me in for another hug, and we simply stand here, in this special place, breathing each other in. And it’s in this moment that I decide to not waste any more time. I want to be with this man, as much and for as long as I can. He’s meant for me. Just like Cash was meant for Brielle, and Jackson is meant for Daphne—although those two have some work ahead of them.
Stubborn pride has no place here.
Life is too precious.
Love is too sacred.
“I want to take you home,” he murmurs. “To my home, if you’ll let me.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
I feel him grin against my hair, and then we walk back to the car.
Suddenly, as we approach his little white sports car, he pushes me behind him as if to protect me from something.
“Are we being mugged?” I ask and peek around his shoulder and then feel my stomach roll. A smear of blood runs along the length of the pristine vehicle. “That fucker.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Lucien says. “It’ll wash off.”
“After you collect samples and run tests, of course.”
“That goes without saying, darlin’.”
“Should we call Cash?”
“I’ll do that on the drive home.”
* * *
Lucien waves Cash goodbye and then leads me into the house. Cash wanted to come see the blood and take some photos, so it’s been a long evening of sexual tension and frustration regarding a certain serial killer that won’t go the hell away.
“He’s just taunting us,” I say as I slip out of my boots. “Because he’s a sick son of a bitch who likes to play games.”
“And as of right this instant, we’re not giving him any more space in our evening,” Lucien declares. As soon as we arrived, we cast a spell on the house, an extra layer of protection, just in case. “The rest of this night is just for you and me. There’s no room for anyone else here.”
Spells: A Bayou Magic Novel Page 8