Spells

by Kristen Proby

  “Oh, how sweet,” she says. “This is a wonderful surprise.”

  “Go ahead and open it,” I urge.

  She parts the tissue paper in the gift bag and pulls out the small box inside. “My favorite chocolates.”

  “I remember you loving those when I was little,” I say. “I thought you might like them.”

  “I don’t even know when the last time was that I had these.” She lovingly runs her hand over the top of the box. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  “You’re welcome.” I clear my throat. “I also wanted to come in and talk with you, Mama. You see, I’ve been angry since you told us that you’re a witch.”

  “I know, I could see it in you,” she says. “I just don’t know how to change it.”

  “I don’t either, but I think talking about it might help.”

  “Honey, I’m always happy to talk to you. I’ll tell you anything I know, and if I don’t know, I’ll do my best to find out.”

  My lip quivers, and I press them together as I try to collect myself.

  “Why does that make you emotional?” she asks.

  “Because this person sitting across from me is the mother I longed for all of my life. Mama, I’m a hedgewitch.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  “And now that I know I could have been learning from you all this time, I guess I’m grieving for everything we lost. And my first reaction was to be angry.”

  “You ain’t got nothin’ to be mad about.” The words snap out of her mouth in a thick Cajun accent, and then Mama’s eyes go round, and she clears her throat. Her eyes are changing from brown to blue. “I’m sorry, honey. Of course, you’re angry. I’m mad, too. I lost all that time with you girls, and the way you were treated is just horrible. I’d give anything to be able to go back and change it all.”

  “I know you would.” My words are careful now as I watch the physical transformation happening in front of me. She’s starting to hunch a bit and suddenly has a twitch in her left cheek as she looks around, as if she’s confused about where she is.

  “Mama?”

  “Huh?” She eyes me and then scowls. “Who are you? I ain’t got no chillins.”

  My hand immediately flies to the amethyst around my neck, and I start to chant the spell from my dream, the one Lucien made me memorize a lifetime ago. I watch as whatever or whoever has taken over my mother’s body turns from confusion to rage.

  “You stop that,” she growls. “You won’t bring that voodoo hoodoo shit around me. You stop it right now.”

  She stands and raises her hand as if she’s going to hit me, but I duck out of the way and keep chanting, starting over at the beginning when I reach the end.

  Lord and Lady, lend me your might.

  Guardians of the Watchtowers, make this right.

  Ancestors and guides, hear my plea.

  Toxic energy there will no longer be.

  Evil and darkness be out of my life.

  Leave my space with only light.

  But it doesn’t help. She only gets angrier as she curls her lip. With wild eyes, she forms her fingers into claws and comes after me. The noises coming out of her mouth don’t sound human as she’s suddenly pulled back from behind, two men in scrubs holding her arms.

  A nurse comes running with a syringe and plunges the needle into Mama’s arm, only infuriating her more.

  “What’s going on?”

  Lucien’s suddenly at my side, and his eyes take in my mother from head to toe.

  “Ruth.” His voice is loud and strong. “Ruth, I know you’re in there. You fight back, darlin’. Whoever’s got you has no right to you.”

  Mama’s slumping now from the medication, and all signs of the being that possessed her is gone. She’s crying softly, murmuring, “I’m so sorry,” over and over again.

  “Mama.” I frame her face in my hands. Her brown eyes, now free of the blue, look back at me. “It’s okay, Mama. I love you. We’re going to protect you.”

  “You can’t,” she whispers before she falls asleep and is carried away on a gurney to her room.

  Lucien and I wait for her doctor to examine her, and then we meet with him in his office.

  “It’s not abnormal for patients to have moments of regression during their treatment,” he says.

  “That’s not what this was.”

  His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he stares at me from across the wide, expensive desk. “And where did you get your psychology degree?”

  He’s not going to listen to me.

  “You’re right,” I reply. “It must be regression.”

  “We’ve given her a sedative. She should be back to herself tomorrow.”

  “I’ll check in on her.” I stand and nod at the doctor, then lead Lucien out of the hospital. Once we’re in the car, I let the pent-up words out. “That motherfucker. Misogynistic asshole thinks he has all the answers, and I should just smile and nod. What a prick. What a piece of shit.”

  “But how do you really feel?” Lucien asks as he pulls out of the parking space and drives away from the hospital.

  “She didn’t regress.”

  “Tell me everything that happened from the minute you stepped inside that place,” he urges. His voice is still hard, angry. He rubs his hand over his lips, moving back and forth in agitation.

  The man I love is good and pissed off.

  I relay the information, word for word. “And then you were there. How did you know I needed you?”

  “The spell you were chanting,” he says. “Not only is it for fighting him off, but because I created it for you, infused it with my energy when I recorded it with the Akashic Records, it automatically links you to me, as well. I’ll always know to get to you as quickly as possible.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  “I didn’t know you still knew it.”

  “It was in my dream the other night.” I swallow and lean back in my seat. “Lucien, taking Mama to the house was the wrong thing to do. The damn spirit or demon or shadow or…whatever it is, reattached itself to her.”

  “Something definitely happened,” he agrees. “We need to go back tomorrow, armed with your sisters, some potions, and a stronger protection spell.”

  “We have some work to do.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Millie

  It never ceases to amaze me how many people we can pack into Miss Sophia’s house. Her cottage isn’t big, but whether it’s just her and I here, or thirty members of the coven, everyone fits as if she cast a spell to expand and contract her home as needed.

  And knowing the older witch as well as I do, it wouldn’t surprise me if she did exactly that.

  My sisters are here, of course, along with Lucien’s parents, Mallory Boudreaux, and Miss Sophia’s granddaughter, Lena. Esme said that she wouldn’t miss it for the world, and she’s got her head buried in a spellbook, doing research.

  Cash sits at the dining room table, directly across from me. Everyone here is researching the mystical arts, and my sister’s husband is doing what he does best: searching for a killer.

  As a former profiler for the FBI, and currently working as an investigator with the New Orleans PD, Cash has vast experience hunting killers. He helped us find this madman once.

  I know he’ll do it again.

  Lucien passes me a book and takes the one I have in front of me.

  “Let’s trade, darlin’,” he says. “You’re just staring blankly at this one.”

  “Why do I feel so lost?” I ask and shake my head. “Like I don’t know where to start? We have two things happening. An undead psychopath is after us, and our poor mother can’t shake the goddamn spirit that’s intent on inhabiting her body.”

  “That’s why you can’t focus,” Lucien replies. “You’re overwhelmed, and rightfully so. Just breathe. Drink Miss Sophia’s tea and center yourself. You have a room full of witches here to help you.”

  “I’m not a practicing witch,” Brielle re
minds us. “And neither is Daphne. How can we possibly help?”

  “Whether you use your gifts for the craft or not,” Miss Sophia replies from across the room, where she’s stirring something in her cauldron, “you have the Power all the same, child. Joining the coven is always your choice. You’d be welcome here for that, as you are always. But if it’s not for you, that’s perfectly fine, as well. We’re going to teach you the spells to chant with Millicent and Lucien tomorrow because the two of them can’t do this alone. Cash, you’ll join them, as well.”

  “Me?” Cash asks, looking around at us. “I have zero gifts. I hate to disappoint you here, but I can’t even make a good cup of coffee.”

  “You’re one of the six,” Miss Sophia reminds him calmly, not even looking away from her cauldron. “That’s all the Power you need.”

  Mallory walks by, and I catch her attention. “Hey, Mal, I keep meaning to call Charly to ask if she wants a booth at the Halloween street fair again this year, and I keep forgetting. Do you know if she wants one?”

  “Yes, she definitely wants one. She has some fun things planned for it.”

  “Great, I’ll make sure she has space. And I’ll do some shopping while I’m at it. I need some new work shoes.”

  “You should splurge on non-work shoes, too,” Mallory says with a wink and keeps walking to where Lena’s waiting with some essential oils for their part of the spell we’re building for tomorrow.

  Lucien’s mother, Gwyneth, is in the kitchen with her husband, Aiden. She looks up at me, pats her husband on the shoulder, and then makes her way over to sit next to me at the table.

  “Hello, dear.” She places a slice of cake in front of me. “You should eat something.”

  I’ve known Lucien’s parents for as long as I’ve known Lucien. They’re part of the coven as well, and they’ve always been kind to me.

  I can’t help but wonder how much they know?

  “Thank you,” I reply and take a bite of the cake. I know there must be some sort of potion mixed in here. A witch doesn’t serve food that isn’t laced with something helpful.

  “This will help calm your mind, but not make you sleepy,” Gwyneth says. “How are things at your lovely café?”

  “They’re great, but I feel bad for Esme. She’s there all the time and covering for me more and more with all of this going on. I really need to hire a couple more people.”

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.” Gwyneth smiles. “Because I’d like to apply for a job.”

  I stare at the other woman in surprise. “You want a job at the Witches Brew?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I look at Lucien, then back at Gwyneth. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’m not doing it for you. Well, not entirely. Let’s just say retirement isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, and I’m bored out of my mind most days. Aiden goes to work at his jewelry shop, and I’m home. I can only knit so many scarves, Millie. Save me from myself.”

  “You don’t want to work with Aiden?”

  “Our marriage works so well because we don’t work together,” she says. “I have references, a clean criminal record, and I know just the right amount of potion to add to anything.”

  “Well, I’d love to have you work for me. If you’re sure.”

  Gwyneth claps her hands and then leans over to kiss my cheek. “Thank you. I’m going to go brag to Aiden that I just landed a job. And check in on the potion I’m making for your mother.”

  She hurries back to the kitchen, and I turn to find Lucien grinning at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “They love you,” he says with a shrug. “Always have.”

  “Do they remember?”

  He looks over my shoulder to where his parents are. “No. But they know I do. And they understand what’s happening now. They’re powerful witches in their own right.”

  “I know,” I say. “I’ve always enjoyed watching them work together during rituals. The magic between them is strong.”

  He wraps an arm around my shoulders and leans in to whisper in my ear.

  “There is no magic more powerful than that between two souls linked by unconditional love, a stór mo chroí. They’ve been linked as long as we have, for just as many lifetimes. I can’t wait to explore the magic you and I can make together.”

  He kisses my ear, leaving me breathless and covered in goosebumps.

  “Okay, you two can get a room,” Daphne says, just as Cash holds up his hand.

  “I think I have something,” Cash calls, getting our attention. “I’ve been compiling a list of missing persons with similar descriptions of the two men who have been found so far. I found twelve that have been reported missing in the past few months, all last seen in the French Quarter.”

  He picks up a remote and flips on Miss Sophia’s TV, which he’s tethered to his computer, then clicks some keys.

  “Here are all of the photos, side by side. Tell me what they have in common.”

  “You don’t know?” Esme asks.

  “Of course, I know,” Cash says. “I want to know if you guys see it, too.”

  We all stare at the images, and I stand to walk in front of the television, my arms crossed as I stare at the face of each man.

  “They all have brown hair,” I say. “But different facial features. They don’t all have the same eye color.”

  “But they’re all wearing glasses,” Brielle adds from beside me. “Brown hair and glasses.”

  Everything in me runs cold as I turn to Lucien.

  “It’s you. He’s not killing me this time around, he’s killing you, Lucien.”

  The air swirls in the room as my anger soars.

  “Millie,” Brielle says, but I shake my head.

  “That bastard is killing the man I love because he’s trying to hurt me. He’s trying to piss me off, which is working.”

  “He’s teaching you a lesson,” Lucien says. His voice is calm, but his eyes reflect my frustration. “He knows the best way to scare you, to hurt you, is to hurt me. It’s been that way for centuries.”

  “Well, he’s done his job. I’m pissed. And I’m not scared. I’m going to fucking destroy him.”

  “Millicent.” Lucien’s before me now and sets his hands on my shoulders. “Your anger fuels his power.”

  “Am I supposed to feel good about this?”

  “Of course, not. Use it constructively. Yes, we’re going to defeat him, but not like this. Bring the wind down. You’re making a mess, darlin’.”

  I glance around the room to see papers flying and everyone’s hair blowing.

  Miss Sophia smiles.

  I take a deep breath and will the wind away.

  I didn’t even realize I’d kicked it up so violently.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever been this angry before.

  “He’s fucking with what I love.”

  Lucien’s blue eyes soften as he brushes his thumb over my forehead, calming me. “I feel the same way, a stór mo chroí.”

  I nod and look around us again. Everyone’s smiling. No one cares that their hair is a mess, and the room is messy. And for the first time, I see that all of Miss Sophia’s candles are lit, and the hearth fire is much higher than it was a moment ago.

  “I’ve been waiting for this day,” Miss Sophia says as she joins us and takes each of our hands. “I’m so happy you’ve reconnected. I hate that it took this evil to do it, but having your souls entwined will work in your favor in ways you can’t even imagine. I’ve rarely seen wind like that blow through and not extinguish the fire. Your combined magic is strong and will only grow more, day by day. Keep honing it. Practice. Love each other.”

  “That’s not difficult,” Lucien replies, his eyes never leaving mine.

  “And when you’re ready, we’ll have your handfasting ceremony.”

  I don’t have to ask what she means, and neither does Lucien.

  “I don’t want it to be when we’re in the middle of f
ighting this evil,” Lucien says.

  “That might be the best time, child,” Miss Sophia replies. “The love and strength between you is powerful. But I’ll leave that up to you. I’m so happy for you. Blessed be.”

  “Blessed be,” everyone says in agreement.

  “I do not mean to be a killjoy,” Cash says, “but now that we know he’s targeting men with Lucien’s general description, I need to know how to proceed. How is he luring them?”

  “Could he have inhabited a woman’s body?” Daphne asks. “Like, maybe he’s picking them up in bars the way he did with the women before.”

  “Of course, it’s possible,” Lucien says.

  “But unlikely,” Cash adds. “The woman’s body wouldn’t be strong enough to do the damage that’s being done. And you know I don’t say that to sound sexist, it’s simply biology. He’s strung some of these men up. The cuts are deep. He’s completely severed limbs, for chrissake. I don’t think a female could do those things.”

  “I agree,” I say, as I think it over. “I don’t think it’s a woman.”

  “Are the men gay?” Brielle asks. “Maybe he’s luring them that way.”

  Cash shrugs and thinks it over. “They could be. We don’t list sexual preference in a missing person’s report. I can do some digging on that.”

  “The potion is about ready,” Miss Sophia says. “Let’s gather out back and begin the ritual for the spell.”

  This is one of the strongest circles I’ve ever been in. The gathering is full of energy and passion.

  Once sacred space is made, Miss Sophia chants the words of Power, calling on the Watchtowers, deities, and spirit guides to protect Mama and banish the evil that plagues her.

  “Lord and Lady, working for us and through us, Guardians of the Watchtowers and guides of all, lend us your might. We dedicate this potion to shelter and protect our sister Ruth.” She tosses more herbs into the cauldron and raises her hands into the air once more.

  “Bring her back to the light and banish this evil. As we gather here in perfect love and perfect trust, our shield becomes hers. Our strength, her strength. Raising the Power of three times three, this is our will, so mote it be.”

  When we’re finished, the potion is bottled up, and we’re on our way for the night.