by Dave Ferraro
***
Krystal wore her outfit out of the store. The royal purple top with a black fringe skirt. She was amazed at how good she looked. She didn’t really think of herself as beautiful, but at the moment she felt like she could do anything. Even Rachel had been surprised at the transformation, complimenting her on her choice of color. She had to admit that Rachel had been right about the jewel colors. The purple was a lovely compliment to her black curly hair and pale skin, and somehow accentuated her eyes. She felt so grown up, and only wished that she could redo her date with Steven in this outfit. Perhaps then she would have acted as confidently as she felt, and would have won him over. But as is, she had a chance to do just that for the rest of the student body, and this was why she had come to Louisiana in the first place, so this is where she needed to prove she could do it. Steven had been a dry run that had turned out disastrous. This was her chance for redemption.
“What time is the party at?” Amelia asked.
“Nine,” Krystal said, glancing down at her watch. “Plenty of time.”
“You’ll go at ten,” Rachel told her, smiling. “You can’t be the first one there. It reeks of desperation. And you’ll want to make an entrance in that outfit.”
“Why not go at eleven to make sure everyone’s there?” Quinn asked.
Rachel snorted. “It’s a kegger. We want people to remember her after the fact. And you, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Plus, if the party ends up being lame, it might empty out early, even if there is alcohol.”
“You’ve had experience, it sounds like,” Shanna observed.
Rachel shrugged. “I grew up in an all-girls’ boarding school in a foreign country. I didn’t get to party much in high school, really. But college…once I hit college, I made up for lost time.”
“Do we have time to stop in a shop quick?” Amelia piped up suddenly, nodding up the street.
“What kind of shop?” Rachel asked, suspiciously.
“A magick shop,” Amelia shrugged. “I might not get back here for awhile, and there are some things I could definitely stock up on.”
“Let’s go,” Shanna nodded. “We have time for a brief detour.”
“Very brief,” Rachel said. “Krystal’s hair has to be perfect.”
“Her hair’s always perfect,” Amelia frowned, then led them to a small shop up a side street.
A bell over the door announced their arrival as they stepped inside.
It was a tiny space crammed with junk, as far as Krystal was concerned. And the smell of hundreds of different herbs and spices added up to one overwhelming scent that forced Krystal to breathe through her mouth. “Oh, my god,” her eyes widened as she took in the chicken feet hanging near the door way, hanging from the ceiling by twine. “Is that real?”
“Of course it’s real,” Amelia told her, sending her an encouraging smile. “Voodoo often requires unsavory ingredients. It keeps posers away, anyway.”
“Ah, welcome,” a young black woman with a shaved head greeted them, coming out through a beaded curtain to step behind a counter covered in jewelry. “What brings you to my humble shop this evening?” She glanced at Krystal. “A love spell, perhaps?” She eyed Rachel. “Something to slow the aging process?”
“What?” Rachel protested. “Really?”
Krystal somehow managed to muffle her laughter as Amelia scooped leaves and seeds into plastic bags. “We can find what we need,” Amelia told the woman as she inspected the shelves. “Thank you, though.”
“Nightshade leaves and mustard seeds,” the woman said slowly, watching her. “You’ll probably be needing salt and eye of newt next.” She gestured behind her and Amelia smiled as she retrieved some stalks of dried flowers, then set her bags down on the counter.
“I already have the salt, and I will be using anole eyes,” Amelia assured her.
The woman nodded, impressed. “Very well. You seem to know what you’re doing.” She began to ring the items up as the bell above the door jingled again. She looked up and paled.
Krystal frowned as she turned to see a pretty black woman enter the store, perhaps in her early thirties. She wore a wide-rimmed black hat and fashionable sunglasses, gold bracelets clinking on her bare arms. Her black dress hugged her curves flawlessly as she walked into the room and looked over the shelves.
“Miss Roma,” the shopkeeper addressed her, a slight quiver in her voice. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Krystal frowned at Amelia’s half-bagged merchandise. It was like she suddenly forgot her other customers.
The woman glanced over at her and pulled off her sunglasses, folding them quickly and tossing them into her Coach bag. Her eyes were a beautiful green, with gold specks that seemed to dance in them. She smiled. “Now, don’t you worry your pretty little head over me, Therese. Go about your business.”
The shopkeeper nodded, and while still distracted, finished ringing up Amelia’s order.
As she drew closer to Krystal, the other customer suddenly looked up sharply and stared at her. She seemed startled, but roused herself and smiled. “Well now, aren’t you a sight?”
“Thank you,” Krystal replied uncertainly.
“I’m Indigo Roma,” she said, holding out a dainty hand. “But my friends call me Roma. And who might you be?”
“Krystal,” she said simply, shaking her hand awkwardly.
“Are you from around here, Krystal?”
“Just…passing through.”
“We’re all just passing through,” Quinn said, stepping up to them and offering Roma his hand. “I’m Quentin.” He pointed out the others one at a time as Roma looked over them all carefully, her eyes lingering on Amelia and the items that were going into her bag.
“Well, on behalf of New Orleans,” Roma grinned, “I’d like to welcome you. I have a house up on Custer Lane if you should need anything while you’re in town.” She glanced back at Krystal. “And I do love interesting company.”
“Thank you for the offer, but we won’t be staying long,” Amelia told her.
Roma frowned. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
“And where are you staying, if I may ask?”
“You may not.”
A dark look passed over Roma’s face, but it was gone so quickly that Krystal wondered if she hadn’t imagined it. “Well, I’m sorry to have been so nosy. Do enjoy your stay.”
“We will,” Amelia said stiffly, ushering them all out quickly.
As soon as they were half a block away, Rachel turned to Amelia with a puzzled look. “What was that about?”
“Yeah, you were a bit rude,” Krystal added, frowning.
Amelia shook her head. “I don’t know, to be honest. I just got this horrible feeling around her. Like the wind was trying to tell me something about her, but I just couldn’t tell what, except that it was full of ill omens.”
“She seemed nice enough,” Krystal said.
“But appearances can be deceiving,” Shanna said, looking at Amelia. “If Amelia thinks there’s something off about her, we should trust that feeling. She’s in tune with things the rest of us never will be.”
Amelia smiled. “Thank you. Sorry if I embarrassed you in there.”
“The shopkeeper looked scared too,” Quinn observed. “You were probably right about her. I wonder what her deal is.”
“She looked rich,” Krystal said.
“Quite,” Rachel agreed, an impressed note lacing the word.
“Well, we’ll never know,” Shanna shook them from their reverie. “And right now, we have a mystery to solve, and some of us have a party to attend.”
“Right,” Krystal nodded, suddenly recalling how lovely she looked in her outfit. She really hoped Steven would be there tonight. Maybe the sight of her in such a flattering ensemble would make him think twice about her.