The Voodoo Children: An Urban Fantasy Witch Novel (Retail Witches Series Book 2)

by Les Goodrich

  “Not right now,” Brit said.

  “Just Carol in back. What’s up?” Jordan asked and Brenna looked to the girls.

  “Cowans in every corner today and I had to get away from them all. Driving me crazy.” Brenna breathed a deep relaxing breath as if the very air of the shop was a relief. “What’s up with you two?”

  “Nothing much. We’ve been following this story of the Klepto Kids,” Brit said.

  “Klepto Kids story? What the Hell’s that?”

  “On the news. Have you seen it?”

  “Certainly not,” Brenna said. “I don’t watch the cowan news. It’s all propaganda. Fear mongering. A control mechanism.”

  “We know,” Jordan said. “We don’t watch it either. But we’ve been following this story online and reading about it because there’s something fishy going on and we think it might be a hex. Something dark using these kids for something more than stealing.”

  “Stealing?” Brenna asked.

  Jordan and Brit told Brenna about the stories and what they knew so far. Brenna listened and when they were done she thought for a long while.

  “When did the first robbery happen?” she asked.

  “Last Saturday,” Brit said.

  “The dark Moon,” Brenna observed.

  “Damn you’re right,” Jordan said. “And the next bank was on the new Moon. Then the jewelry store the day after that.”

  “And nothing yesterday or since?” Brenna asked.

  “Not that we know of,” Brit said.

  “Start on the black and work your way back,” Brenna said.

  “Huh?” Brit said.

  “Start on the black and work your way back,” Jordan said. “The Dark Moon Induction. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  “Well it might be,” Brenna said. “Hard to be sure.”

  “What the heck’s a Dark Moon Induction?” Brit asked.

  Jordan looked to Brenna and raised her eyebrows. Brenna looked to Brit and spoke softly even though no one else was in the store to hear.

  “The darkest magick. The Dark Moon Induction combines the mechanics of an old love spell, but perverts it for a dark end. A Shadowclan witch will begin their quest on the dark Moon, then travel toward their lair and perform one new act on each of three days, with the dark Moon being the first day. Night. Whatever. It brings the power home, so to speak. The order and direction of the acts consecrate dark energies so the ultimate goal is given strength. It gathers the dark.”

  “Start on the black and work your way back,” Brit repeated. “So the three robberies were just the beginning, like we thought.”

  “Maybe,” Jordan reasoned.

  “But if this is right,” Brit said, “then we have a clue. The headquarters of it all. Right?”

  “Well, I guess we have the general direction. It’s not much to go on,” Jordan said looking through articles on her phone. Brit spoke to Brenna.

  “These kids are being controlled. It all fits with the Dark Moon Induction theory.”

  “That’s pretty hardcore. If they are, and they’ve been primed with the induction, then this is gonna get nasty. It’s leading to something big.”

  “Look,” Jordan said and she showed Brenna the security video of the kids on her phone. Brenna watched. When the video was over she looked up to Jordan.

  “You’re right, this is serious. Have you guys talked to Carol about this?”

  “A bit,” Jordan said.

  “Brenna, could a voodoo witch use the Dark Moon Induction?” Brit asked.

  “A voodoo priestess. I suppose. It’s usually not their style. Why?”

  “Because these kids could be under a voodoo zombie spell.”

  “What makes you think that now?”

  Brit spoke. “Think about the induction locations. Tampa, Tallahassee, then Pensacola. Where does that seem to be leading?”

  “Where?” Brenna asked and Jordan put her hand over her eyes and rubbed. She knew Brit was right. “New Orleans,” she said. “Voodoo central.”

  “Shit,” Brenna said. “And I came in here to relax.” Some days you should just stay home, Brenna thought and twisted her mouth. She looked to Jordan and Brit and her mouth curled into a grin and, of course, she was still glad to have stopped by. “Tribe,” she said and flashed a peace sign to the girls on her way out the door.

  “Tribe,” Jordan and Brit called back together, the door closed, and the girls worked into the afternoon.

  Chapter 5

  Strange Arrivals

  The day marched on and, unlike some days that slowed toward the end, the shop was busier with each passing hour. Jordan and Brit helped customer after customer. Some bought books, some bought crystals, and some browsed. Then a man entered and the instant Brit saw him she quietly said, “Here we go,” to Jordan who was behind the counter getting a new incense stick to burn at the front door.

  “Have fun,” Jordan whispered then said, “Hi,” to the guy on her way outside.

  There was nothing unusual or alarming about the man, conservatively dressed for the cool day in khakis and a navy jacket. He just had that look. And after a few years working retail, everyone in the store could spot it a mile away, especially Brit. Maybe a place called Spellshop that sold witchcraft books and actual wands just attracted them now and then. What would it be this time? Brit jumped in to find out and gave the man her full attention.

  “Welcome. What brings you in today?” she asked against her better judgement.

  “Oh well, I come in here all the time.”

  Of course, since Brit practically lived there but had never seen him once.

  “I need some help with a spell. I’ve read it before, but I don’t remember which book it was in.”

  “What kind of spell is it?” Brit asked, playing along.

  “Oh just a curse to get back at my old girlfriend. Of all the guys in the world, she cheated on me with my best friend.”

  So this was the bare your soul and tell strangers your biggest life problem type. Brit almost asked why he wouldn’t want to curse the best friend instead, or at least as much, but she skipped that argument and cut to the chase. “That really isn’t what we do here. I’d suggest reading Buckland’s Complete Book of Witchcraft to start with. And we also have a short book called All About the Rule of Three. The basic idea is we get back what we give out, so you want to be super-careful with curses and hexes.”

  Jordan had come in just in time to hear, we get back what we give out, and it was all she needed to have a grasp on the general situation.

  “You people are all the same,” the man said and his aggressive tone of voice stopped Jordan in her tracks and made Brit stand up straight. “It’s all sunshine and everything flows to you, right? Until someone actually needs your help, then all you can do is sell them a bunch of things they don’t need. Money, money, money. That’s all you care about.”

  A customer leaned to peek up from the back and Jordan stepped right up to the man. “Are you done now?” she asked him and the authority in her voice cast a shadow over his attitude and the fire in her eyes burned it away like dust.

  “Obviously this is all mumbo-jumbo,” the man said trying to gather himself from such a swift and direct retort. “I knew you couldn’t help me.”

  “We’re trying to help you,” Brit said and the man snapped his head back to her. “Those papers in the rack by the door are free. There’s an article in there about balancing needed change with karma and you don’t have to buy anything to read it. Hexing someone can be a double-edged sword. That’s all I meant.”

  The man stomped out of the store without a glance toward The Last Dragon paper stand.

  “Good riddance,” Jordan said and Brit smiled to let her know the guy hadn’t bothered her.

  “What a jerk,” a woman, a witch from out of town, said as she came up from the back.

  “People get emotional when they get dumped,” Brit said. “It sucks. If he’s the worst we have to deal with today t
hen we’re happy. We should wish him well.”

  “You’re right,” the woman said. “He doesn’t have to take it out on you girls though. I thought he was ready to fight you.”

  “Ha!” Jordan said. “Then I could have demonstrated to him how defensive hexes reflect the aggressor’s karma and not the sender’s.”

  “I happen to agree,” the woman said. “My name is Heather, Light Tribe. I actually do come in here all the time.”

  “I remember you,” Jordan said. “This is Brit.”

  “Hello,” Brit said and she shook Heather’s hand.

  “I’m from Edgewater. Are you the owners?”

  “Oh no,” Brit said and her cheeks blushed and Jordan smiled when she saw that.

  “We work here. Us and a guy named Tanner. We’re the retail witches. The owner’s name is Carol.”

  “Oh I remember meeting her now. She’s the older one. Kind of a gypsy?”

  “Kind of,” Jordan said. “She’s actually in the back I think.”

  More customers filed in at that point and Heather the customer graciously said goodbye and headed out.

  Jordan and Brit stayed busy and they found little time to chat after that. Brit did say, “Brenna is cool,” at one slow point, but Jordan only got out, “Yeah,” before a stream of customers filled the shop again. Brit was on the register and Jordan went to help a customer she saw comparing two books.

  The thirty-something woman wore a tan skirt, ruffled shirt, navy sweater, long brown hair swept into a bun, and she looked like the elementary school teacher she in fact was. She clasped a sun hat. She visited the store often but always alone. Few knew she was a Light Tribe witch and, being a small town teacher from the county to the south, she was forever cautious behind hats and big sunglasses. Jordan explained the two books.

  “This book is more about what familiars are, like their history and role in witch stories of the past. This one is more practical content. How to choose a familiar. How to pick a name. Spirit guides. All that.”

  “I see,” the woman said and she chose the second book. “Thank you for your help.”

  “Anytime,” Jordan said and she moved away when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She looked to be sure Carol was not up front. She pulled out her phone, saw it was a text from James, and felt the back of her neck tingle. They made plans to have dinner that night. “Awesome,” Jordan said moving to the front as the teacher left with her new book. Jordan shut her phone down and slid it into her jeans back pocket.

  “What’s awesome?” Brit asked.

  “Dinner with James tonight.”

  “Oh cool,” Brit said but something flipped in her chest and she knew it was jealousy. She shook it from her mind and smiled through it. In the best part of her heart, knowing Jordan was happy made Brit happy too.

  A delivery girl pushed backwards through the door and pulled a dolly in with her. Inside she spun the dolly around and parked it near the counter. “Sign here please,” she said handing Brit a clipboard. Brit signed the page and the girl removed a copy and gave it back to her. She lifted the two boxes and slid them onto the glass counter. They were twelve-inch cubes but much heavier than they looked when Brit slid the first one to look at the label. Jordan strolled up.

  “What is it?”

  “Books,” Brit said and she looked for the knife to cut them open.

  “Don’t. If Carol sees them we’ll have to check them all in and put them out. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just put them under the desk. Hurry,” Jordan said and she gave a look into the back.

  Brit had just turned from pushing the second heavy box on top of the first under the desk when Carol came up from the back. Brit leaned on the desk to block the space under it with her crossed legs.

  “Are you okay?” Carol asked Brit.

  “Yeah, fine. Just a busy day. Nothing we couldn’t handle though.”

  “Uh-huh,” Carol said and she looked at Jordan’s toothy grin. “Well, have a good close and if it’s dead be sure to get out of here by five,” she said.

  “Dead?” Brit asked. “I doubt it. It’s been rocking in here.”

  “Has it?” Carol asked. “Show me the sales real fast.”

  “Right here,” Brit said.

  She handed Carol the file with the day’s running totals and receipts. Carol looked to the bottom line and said, “Excellent.”

  The shop door opened with a slight chime from the tiny bell above the door and a tall, slim, African-American woman came in flowing with paisley silk of purple and gold. Her hair was wrapped in a white silk scarf of many twists and turns, her skin was flawless, and her eyes large and deep. She smiled but her curved red lips remained closed where she paused just inside.

  “Welcome to Avalon Spellshop,” Carol said and she turned in an open gesture with one arm lifted gently toward the store interior. She returned the file to Brit.

  The woman entered gracefully and looked into the shop, then turned to regard Carol and the girls at the counter. Behind her followed a young girl of about thirteen in a white lace dress, white stockings, and black patent leather shoes. Her pencil-sized braids swung to just above her shoulders and each strand had a white bead at the end. Behind her was a young man in his twenties and another man of perhaps thirty-five. Both men wore all black and each wore sunglasses. The tall woman looked down to the girl and nodded gently. The girl smiled, giggled, moved into the store, and carefully explored the shelves. The men followed her but said nothing. The woman returned her attention to Carol and spoke. Her voice was deep with a rich and exotic tone, a Jamaican accent tempered by a southern drawl.

  “Good afternoon. Beggin’ your pardon but I was sent here from the town and told this was a shop for magickal needs. That true?”

  “It is,” Carol stepped forward. “How may we help you?”

  “I’m seeking an herb that evades me in these parts. Agrimony. In Louisiana we call it agrimony. I believe in Florida it’s called cocklebur. Agrimonia eupatoria to be exact.”

  “The old Florida farmers call it cocklebur, but witches here call it agrimony too,” Carol said and the two ladies smiled gently and Jordan and Brit looked to each other, then Jordan moved into the store in case the men or the girl needed help. Carol continued the slow but polite conversation with the woman. They spoke at length of the herb and of respectful harvesting methods and proper storage techniques.

  The young girl was looking over books at the back shelf and the two men had taken seats in the chairs.

  “What kind of books do you like?” Jordan asked.

  “Comic books,” the girl said. “I like comic books.”

  “Oh we don’t have comic books.”

  “I know. I like them because the stories move like movies. They jump. Have you ever read a good one?”

  “No,” Jordan said and she waited for the girl to suggest one but she did not.

  Instead she said, “You like books about magick and witches don’t you?”

  “I do,” Jordan said, then added, “Just let me know if I can help you,” and she moved back to the front and found Carol and the customer still discussing the herb agrimony.

  “We don’t have it in the store. But I have some growing in my garden at home. I’m walking there now if you’d like to follow me.”

  “I have a few days. I would be just as happy to return tomorrow.”

  “When you do I’ll have it here for you. I’m Carol.”

  “And I am Josephine. Josephine Lemort of New Orleans, French Quarter. Thank you kindly and good day.”

  With that Josephine Lemort departed with much the same grace as she had entered. The young girl was right behind her, as were the two silent men, and they left as a group and were gone. Carol stood for a moment. “Has she been in before?” she asked.

  “No,” said Brit.

  “Never seen her,” said Jordan. “What was with that weird entourage? A church girl and two goth bodyguards?
And why does she want the agrimony?”

  Carol thought for a second. “It could be for a lot of things. Who knows. It’s just a harmless herb. Well, you girls have a nice night.” Then Carol was gone.

  “Do you believe that harmless herb business?” Brit asked once the door closed.

  “I don’t know but I’ll find out tonight. What did you think of that lady? Josephine Lemort.”

  “She gave me the creeps. Well, not her so much, but the whole gang of them. And straight out of New Orleans. Am I crazy or were we just talking about New Orleans? I mean really.”

  “I bet you’re right. This is bad. And Carol knows more about agrimony than she’s letting on. I mean she just happens to be growing it in her garden? For what?”

  “No clue.”

  “Well, I’ll look into the plant, and you see what you can find out about Josephine Lemort.”

  “How am I gonna do that?” Brit asked.

  “Just start digging. And we’ll both look for anything else we can find about these Klepto Kids. When do you work next?”

  “I have class tomorrow. Tanner opens. You and Carol close. I’ll come by before you guys leave. Then you and I open Thursday, and we have Mims and Casey at your place that night at sunset.”

  “Witch study hall,” Jordan said.

  “Magick with the newbies.”

  “What could possibly go wrong?” Jordan joked. They finished the day with ease and rode their bikes home through the cold Saint Augustine twilight.

  ***

  Gwen sat sipping tea at the small New Orleans cafe on Royal Street and she would have blended in if the cafe had been in Transylvania in 1857. She waited impatiently for her Gulf Coast protege and he joined her only one minute late.

  “Unusual to see you in public,” the young hooded man said and he remained with his grey sweatshirt hood up and when the waitress stopped by he only said, “coffee.”

  The waitress looked to the woman in black lace and long gowns and her beyond pale face and white lips glowed like snow. She almost asked if the lady would like anything else but decided to just get the coffee for the newcomer and she spun off.