Spells

by Kristen Proby

  “What?” I glance over and feel the blood leave my face. “Oh shit. LUCIEN! CASH!”

  The words come out in a scream. I crab-crawl away from the body on the ground just as the others come running outside.

  “Motherfucker,” Cash spits out, pissed as hell. “I was twenty yards away. He dumped this one right under my nose.”

  “Under all our noses,” Lucien says as he steps gingerly around the corpse, careful not to touch anything, and helps me off the ground. “Are you hurt?”

  “Just my hand.” I show him the scrapes, and he lightly brushes his thumb over the flesh, leaving it as good as new when he’s finished.

  “How did you—?”

  “Practice,” he murmurs before kissing my forehead. “Lots of practice, a stór mo chroí.”

  Cash is already on the phone to call for help.

  Brielle and Daphne take the trash I brought outside to the dumpster.

  Esme’s standing by the door, watching with wide eyes.

  “What’s on your hand?” I ask her. It’s red.

  Blood red.

  My goddess, is Esme possessed by Horace?

  “Oh, it’s food coloring,” she says, waving me off. “From the hot chocolate.”

  I nod, but I’m not convinced. This body wasn’t here earlier. Esme went to the bathroom, and when I came back here, I literally fell over a dead man.

  Sirens fill the air, and I know we’re in for a long night.

  “You guys should go home,” I say to my sisters and Esme.

  “Not yet,” Cash adds. “We’re going to have to take statements. It won’t be too bad because I was here.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped this.” Brielle takes his hand, trying to reason with him.

  “It’s my fucking job to stop this,” he says, shaking his head. “Right under my damn nose. He’s an arrogant son of a bitch.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lucien

  It’s imperative that I hide my grimoire. I feel him growing impatient, and I know the time approaches when we will have to fight him.

  My wife is in bed with our daughter, Sabrina, snuggled up at her breast. The baby hasn’t been feeling well, so Millie has been bringing her to our bed for comfort.

  What she doesn’t know is that having both of my girls with me brings me comfort, as well.

  Tarot, Millie’s familiar, is curled up at the end of the bed and opens one eye when I get up and walk across the room.

  “Keep them safe,” I whisper to her. “I’ll be back.”

  I retrieve my book of spells, the one that’s been handed down to me for generations, and carry it down the stairs and into the library.

  There is no better place to hide a book than amongst hundreds of other books.

  I climb the ladder and clear a row of leather-bound fiction novels from the shelf, push on a panel, and grin when I see the hiding space open. I push my grimoire inside, then return the novels to their places, covering it up.

  I ease my way down the ladder and head back up the stairs, where I see the girls haven’t even moved. Tarot yawns in greeting, then spins in a circle and falls fast asleep.

  I slip back between the covers and kiss the baby’s head. Millie shifts and smiles at me in the glow of the one candle I lit when I awoke.

  “Are you all right, beloved?”

  “Of course. I was just checking on something.”

  She closes her eyes. Did you hide it?

  I smile. Millicent and I don’t have secrets. Yes. In the library.

  Good.

  I brush my thumb across her forehead and lie awake for a long while, watching them both sleep dreamlessly.

  I wake slowly with the dream still at the forefront of my mind. I remember almost everything from my previous lifetimes, but this is a new revelation. I check on Millie, who’s sleeping soundly next to me.

  With the moon almost full, I don’t need any additional light to see as I ease out of bed and pull on some shorts.

  Sanguine is curled up at the foot of the bed and opens one eye.

  “Keep her safe,” I whisper as I silently walk out of the room and downstairs to the library.

  I flip on the light and stare up. The bookshelves are full of books. In my dream, I’d climbed up to the second shelf from the top.

  “Let’s give it a try,” I murmur and roll the ladder to the right place, then climb. When I reach the right row, I start pulling down books. I quickly flip through them to make sure nothing has been stashed between the pages and then let them fall to the rug below. But when I’ve uncovered the entire shelf, there is no panel.

  “Damn.”

  I know the dream was real. Maybe this room was remodeled since then, and the book I hid is long gone. I sigh and rub my hand over my face, and then pound my fist on the shelf in frustration.

  A panel shifts.

  Holy shit, it was painted over.

  I push on it, and the panel opens. Inside is my grimoire.

  I pull it out and descend the ladder, then sit in one of the chairs and open the cover.

  1821 is written at the top of the page. I know that I was not born during that time, but my great-grandmother was. At least, my great-grandmother from that particular lifetime.

  And she left this to me.

  “What are you doing?” Millie asks from the doorway. Her eyes are heavy with sleep as she surveys the pile of books on the floor. “Rearranging?”

  I lift my hand, and all of the books return to their places on the shelf.

  “Well, isn’t that handy? Can you clean the whole house like that? It’ll save some time.”

  I smile as she pads into the room and sits in the chair next to mine.

  “Is that mine?”

  “No, it’s mine.”

  She frowns. “I didn’t know you had a book of shadows.”

  “Neither did I until about thirty minutes ago.” I tell her about the dream, and coming down here to look. “It’s always a bit jarring when I discover something new.”

  “You can’t possibly remember every single moment,” she points out. “It makes sense that things come back to you here and there. That’s a beautiful grimoire.”

  “My great-grandmother wrote it. Well, Lucien’s great-grandmother from a hundred years ago anyway.”

  “And she gave it to you?”

  “Yes, before she passed away. I was close to her. Learned a lot from her. Miss Sophia reminds me of her in many ways. She was patient and seemed to know everything. I always wondered how she literally knows all of the answers.”

  “Because she’d lived a full life, and you were a young boy,” Millie says with a gentle smile. “I think it’s lovely that you were close to her.”

  “I know there might be stuff in here that can help us.” I offer her an apologetic grin. “I know, more reading.”

  “It will be fascinating,” she says. “This is priceless, Lucien. You should think about putting a spell on it so it can’t be stolen or destroyed.”

  “I already considered that. I’ll do it in the morning.”

  I set the book on the side table and reach for my wife, then pull her into my lap. She drags her fingertips down my cheek before offering me her sweet lips. With my mouth pressed to hers, I snap my fingers, and the lights go out.

  “I wonder what it’s like,” I murmur as my lips trail down her neck, “to have sex in a library.”

  “I think we’re about to find out.”

  “I wonder what Miss Sophia wants to talk about,” Millie says the next morning as we buckle our seatbelts and leave the house. “I hate it when she’s vague. It could literally be anything.”

  “If it was an emergency, she would have said so,” I remind her and kiss her hand. “Before we head out to the bayou, I need to stop and talk to Cash.”

  “Okay.”

  One of the things I love most about Millicent is how easygoing she is. Not much ruffles her feathers. She’s openminded and patient, two things I admire.

  I make
a turn and park in front of the police station, but rather that having to go inside, I see Cash waiting on the front steps.

  “I have the newest bloodstone for you,” he says and passes it to me. “I don’t think you’ll find anything different from the others, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”

  “Agreed.” I nod. “What else do we know?”

  “The victim’s throat was cut. There was no torture with this one, but the blood was pretty much drained.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Accident?”

  “That, or necessity. I’m not sure. Who knows with this asshole?”

  “Well, that’s true. I’ll take this to the lab and work on it later today.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll let you know when and if I know more. We’ve decided to send in some of our cops who look a little like you, to the bars to try to lure him out.”

  I stare at the other man that I’ve come to consider my friend in such a short time. “That’s dangerous.”

  “They’re seasoned officers. They can take care of themselves. I’ll keep you posted on that, too.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Cash.”

  He nods and waves at Millie, who’s waiting in the car.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow night as we all dance naked under the blue moon.”

  I laugh and pat him on the shoulder. “You only have to dance naked on your first visit. After that, you can wear whatever you want.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. “The things we do for love.”

  I laugh again, with absolutely no intention of easing his mind and telling him that the naked dancing is something only done in fiction.

  It’s fun to tease him, as I would a brother.

  “See you tomorrow,” I say and return to the car.

  “Everything okay?” Millie asks as she waves goodbye to Cash.

  “Aside from innocent men dying? Yes. Everything’s okay. I don’t want to keep this stone on me, so I’m going to drop it by the lab on our way.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’re quite agreeable this morning, darlin’.”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “What’s not to be agreeable about? I get to spend time with you, it’s a lovely fall day, and I know my café is being taken good care of by Esme and Gwyneth. I don’t have any complaints. Except…”

  “Except?”

  “Well, last night, when I tripped on the corpse’s ankle.”

  “Yes, I would complain about tripping on a corpse, as well, now that you mention it.”

  “No. I mean, yes, but that’s not it. Esme ran outside when I yelped, and her hand was covered in a red stain. She said it was food coloring from the hot chocolate, but it looked like a bloodstain. And I just couldn’t help but wonder if Horace could be possessing Esme.”

  “And you’re just now bringing this up to me?”

  “Well, there was a body on the ground, and then the cops came, and it was so late when we got home, I collapsed into bed. Then we had fun in the library. There really hasn’t been time to accuse my employee and friend of being possessed.”

  I blow out a breath and laugh. “Okay, first of all, I don’t think it’s Esme.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because we cast some pretty strong protection spells on your café, Millie. There’s no way that Horace could enter the building, whether in spirit form or in a host body.”

  She chews her lip. “Yeah, that’s true.”

  “And Esme was working all night. She was with us at the booth, and then helping us clean up.”

  “She went to the bathroom,” she reminds me. “And when I walked past, I heard her struggling to get back into her catsuit.”

  “So she was in the bathroom doing what she said she was going to do.” I take her hand and squeeze it. “Esme has been with us at Miss Sophia’s, and has been trying to help. I really don’t think she’s the one to look at.”

  “Okay.” She sighs deeply and shakes her head. “What you say makes sense. I just wish we could figure out how this is all happening.”

  “We will. We just need to do it before he has a chance to destroy us first.”

  “Yeah, that would be ideal.” She laughs at me as I pull into the parking lot of the lab. “Because I plan to spend a lot more years with you, a mhuirnín.”

  I grin over at her. “Likewise. I’ll be right back, I’m just going to drop this off.”

  I hurry inside and place the stone in the safe with the others, then return to the car. Millie’s staring down at her phone.

  “I’m having a girls’ night at our place tonight with my sisters,” she informs me. “They haven’t been over to see the house yet, and I want to cook for them.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  “Oh, it’s gonna be fun,” she agrees. “Daphne’s bringing some cocktails.”

  “Will they need a designated driver?”

  “Probably.”

  “Well, it’s handy that I know how to drive.”

  “It’s damn convenient having you around,” she says with a laugh. “But that means no cocktails for you.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t drink much. I’m too busy studying most of the time and need a clear head.”

  “Now that you mention it, whenever I’ve been around you, you always have your nose in a book.”

  “My whole life,” I confirm.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve been preparing for this, darlin’. Everything that we’re dealing with right now is what I’ve been studying for.”

  And I’m damn frustrated that I still don’t feel like I know enough.

  “You’re pretty amazing.” She smiles at me from the passenger side seat as I drive us out of the city toward Miss Sophia’s house.

  Amazingly terrified.

  She squeezes my hand.

  No need to be. I’m right here.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Don’t play with the forces of evil.”

  -- Anna Pistova

  The Witch of Vladimirovac

  * * *

  “Oh, this game is getting fun,” he murmurs to himself as he leans against a tree on the other side of the street from the big house in the Garden District. He followed them here after the party in the French Quarter. He stood back and watched as Millie and Lucien put on their little show for the asshole teenagers.

  Those boys need someone to teach them how to respect their elders. The way my girls do, he thinks to himself.

  Millie’s so much more talented than she gives herself credit for. Way too gifted to spend her evenings showing off with little parlor tricks for ungrateful children. It was all he could do to stand there and watch and not rail at her to stop, to open her eyes and realize that she was born for so much more.

  All she needs is for him to teach her. But she just won’t listen.

  They never listen.

  But he takes a deep breath before he gets frustrated again. That doesn’t help anything. No, he needs to keep his head about him so there are no more mistakes.

  A light comes on in the house across the street. He narrows his eyes and watches as Lucien, wearing only shorts, walks into the library. He looks up, then reaches for the ladder and climbs it, above the level of the windows.

  He wants to see what Lucien’s up to, but he knows that getting closer might give him away.

  “Just be patient,” he reminds himself. It looks like books are falling from the ceiling, and then, a few moments later, Lucien climbs down the ladder with a volume in his hand and sits in the chair. “Up for some reading in the middle of the night.”

  Suddenly, a light comes on upstairs, and Horace grins.

  She’s awake.

  His gut clenches at the thought of seeing her. More lights flick on as she makes her way downstairs. Suddenly, she’s standing in the doorway, talking to Lucien.

  “Me,” he murmurs. “You should be talking to me.”

  He watches as she sits next to the other man and then snarls when Lucien lifts her into his lap, an
d she kisses his mouth.

  That little whore.

  Lucien snaps his fingers, and all the lights in the house go dark, shutting him out.

  But it’s for the best.

  He’s been ignoring his toys all day.

  “Now, Lucien, I was not pleased when I saw you kiss her tonight.” His voice is clear and calm, as if he’s having a conversation with the man over coffee. “That’s not to say that I don’t know what you’ve been doing with her. Certainly much more than kissing.”

  The toy whimpers on his workbench.

  “I understand.” Horace pats the toy on the shoulder. “You’re a man. And Millie is a lovely girl. Why, she’d tempt a saint with that curvy body of hers. And those tits? The goddess herself molded them with her very own hands. Yes, she’s a beauty. All of my girls are.”

  He reaches for his new favorite knife, scowling as he thinks back on the blade he loved before. The one that was driven into his side and ultimately killed him.

  But that’s revenge for another day.

  “Now, I think we should just make sure you can’t lust after my Millicent anymore.”

  Horace grips the toy’s penis between his finger and thumb.

  “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt for too long.”

  He smiles and slices, reveling in the screams of pain, in the blood. In the power.

  No, it won’t hurt for long.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Millie

  Miss Sophia’s house is warm and inviting as we step inside. Lucien brought the grimoire he found in the library last night. I can’t wait for Miss Sophia to see it.

  She is going to geek out.

  “Hello, sweet ones,” she says as she kisses both our cheeks and leads us to the dining room. “I have hot tea and fresh beignets for you.”

  “Your beignets are almost as good as Café du Monde’s.” I sit and pour myself a cup of tea, and another for Lucien when he nods. “Thank you for inviting us. It’s good to see you and chat with you without the distraction of so many other people around.”