Coveted

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Coveted Page 37

by Stephanie Nelson

Page 37

 

  “Hi. ” I smiled. “I was in here the other day with my…friend. And I was wondering if you stock these items?” I dug into my pocket and handed the man the envelope I’d scribbled the spell on. He stared at me for a moment before grabbing the paper. His eyes scanned the text, flicking up to my face before going back to the list.

  “Carla,” he called across the room. “Take the register. ”

  I looked over my shoulder at Carla. She was of average height and wore a tie-dyed ruffled skirt that fell to the floor. Her curly brown hair was held back with a silver headband and her crow’s feet were accentuated when she watched me with suspicion.

  “Follow me. ” The man motioned with his hand and headed toward the back of the store. Turning to follow the man helping me I flashed a smile and nodded a greeting to Carla as we passed. “We don’t carry a witch’s cupboard here. ” He whispered the word ‘witches’ “But we offer blocking spells that work the same. ”

  I was staring at the shelves and pointed toward a rack of necklaces. “These?”

  The man followed the direction I pointed and shook his head. “No, the stuff up front is more for fun than accuracy. We keep the real stuff in back. Spells are some serious business,” he laughed. “Could you imagine if we allowed humans free range of them?”

  I laughed nervously because at Broomsticks I sold to supernaturals and humans. But the potions I sold were low key—minor. I didn’t see the harm in selling them and I hadn’t had any complaints.

  We slipped through the beaded curtain and into the room I’d been in with Dorian and Kiah.

  “I’m Matt by the way,” he said as he searched the shelves.

  “Gwen,” I responded. “Are you a witch?”

  He chuckled, looking at me over his shoulder. “Nah, but my mother was and my sister is. The magic didn’t choose me. ”

  What was I supposed to say to that? “Sorry. ”

  “I was jealous at first, but I’m over it. Besides, I still feel connected to magic working here, ya know?”

  I nodded. “Believe me, sometimes magic can be more trouble than it’s worth. ”

  “I hear ya,” Matt agreed. “Here we go. ”

  A necklace dangled from his finger—a diamond shaped stone on leather cording. Etched in the center of the stone was a horizontal oval with three lines across it. I took a couple steps to cross the room. Reaching out, I caught the pendent in my hand and studied it.

  “It won’t interfere with this one will it?” I tugged out the necklace Kiah had given me. So far the charm hadn’t worked but I wasn’t about to insult the workings of a voodoo practitioner. Then again, I hadn’t had any run-ins with rogues since coming to New Orleans.

  “Nah, if anything it will amplify the protection necklace and they’ll strengthen each other. ” Matt held the necklace in both hands and slipped it over my head, lifting my hair so the cord lay against my neck. His fingers brushed my skin, lingering a little too long.

  “Thanks,” I said with a bit of discomfort.

  We made our way back up front. Matt went behind the counter and rang up the necklace. After paying him and thanking him one last time, I headed back out onto the street. I lifted the pendent, studying the stone and hoping it worked as well as the one Fiona wanted me to make. Chances were, my magic wouldn’t have been strong enough to enchant my own anyway. And enchanted items were subjective at best. In order for the magic to work properly; the one possessing the item had to believe in it. It was the reason why I didn’t mind selling these sorts of knick-knacks to humans. Still, I felt a bit of comfort with the two necklaces around my neck.

  I headed down the sidewalk in search of food. There were too many choices, every venue competing with the next to usher customers into their establishments. I wasn’t looking for something crowded or loud. A nice peaceful restaurant was what I needed, a place to eat my food in peace and be alone with my thoughts. And I wasn’t going to find it on Bourbon Street.

  I cut across the street, turning down Conti Street. The lively atmosphere that New Orleans offered was contagious. I found myself smiling as I walked down the sidewalk and watched the excited people. A red and blue sign featuring a smiling lobster caught my eye up ahead. I had the offhand thought that he shouldn’t look so happy considering it was a seafood restaurant if Oceana was any indication.

  I passed a man sitting on an old milk crate playing a saxophone, a tip jar beside him. I dug a five-dollar bill out of my pocket, dropping it into the jar and smiling. He nodded his thanks, and I continued on my way.

  Oceana’s front was made out of reddish brown brick. Thick white wood trim encased the red door, and music spilled out as someone stepped inside. I followed, my eyes falling over the place. It wasn’t the small café-style place I was looking for, but it smelled delicious and I could almost hear my stomach whining in anticipation.

  After waiting a good half an hour, I was finally sitting at a window seat and scanning a menu with excitement. Another twenty minutes and my seafood pasta arrived. I was pretty sure my stomach jumped for joy. I stabbed my fork into the medley, my entire body sagging in satisfaction. As I devoured my food, I watched the surrounding people. Some tables were full of big groups, friends out for a night together, families and couples. I tried to avoid the couple tables; they only depressed me, turning my smile upside down. Blah.

  Watching people through the window was safer than witnessing the couple across from me making out again. My foot tapped with the music playing over the speaker system while I tracked the crowd passing beside outside. One particularly got my attention. I took a drink of my water to wash down the food, leaning up so I could see better. The man was leaning against the wall of a business across the street, one leg bent up and arms crossed while another guy stood next to him. That wasn’t what grabbed my attention; it was the flash of ink on the back of the second man’s neck. I chewed on my straw, the food in my stomach turning into a concrete glob. Both guys were in deep conversation, all the while their eyes tracking each person. They could be drug dealers, thieves or innocent tourists, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I swung around, searching the restaurant for my waiter. When I caught his eye, I waved my hand in the air as a cue I was ready for the check. Swinging around again, I checked on the strange men and all of the air rushed out of my lungs. The spot they had occupied was empty. Scooting closer to the window, I scanned this way and that way for them, hoping I would be able to spot them further down the sidewalk. They were gone.

  “Here you go,” my waiter said, setting the check on the table. “How was everything?”

  “Good. ” I smiled, scanning my total and digging some cash out. “Keep the change. ” I scooted out of the booth, reaching inside my jacket to make sure the dagger was still there.

  Outside again, I headed back the way I’d come. The sky was now bathed in twilight, the hint of stars poking through the darkness. The streets were still as lively as ever, the glow of businesses’ signs giving a false sense of security. Every couple of minutes I would peek over my shoulder to see if anyone was following me. Other than getting a few odd stares from those behind me, the men were still missing.

  I cut across the street for good measure, making sure to keep track of anyone doing the same. After ten minutes of uneventful walking I was beginning to relax, confident the two men hadn’t been rogues and I was being paranoid for nothing.

  Unfortunately, right when I chose to let my guard down was when I was shoved from behind. Hard. I stumbled over my feet, landing on my ass in a dark alley between two businesses. I was only six feet away from the opening, but it might as well have been miles, because the silhouette of a man was blocking my path. I scrambled up, turning to run for the second opening, my feet beating against the uneven concrete. My mind reeled, my heart raced and hope filled me the closer I got. I could see the people walking past, unaware I was in trouble. My lungs wanted to scream for their atte
ntion, but if the man was a rogue then it was best to leave humans out of it.

  Eight feet separated me and my escape. I looked over my shoulder to see the man’s progress, and was confused to see he wasn’t running at all. His footsteps were unhurried as he advanced. The weirdness of this caused my own feet to falter. Was he just a man cutting across the alley to get to the other block? He hadn’t spoken or made any threats still, I walked with haste to the opening.

  Right before I made it though, another man stepped into my path. He just stood there, watching me. I glanced at the other man and he stopped walking as well. Both exits were blocked, that bubble of hope squashed and my life in danger— if the evil smiles on the men’s faces were any indication.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  My fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger as I pulled it from my jacket. I tried to remember Dorian’s lesson, and eased my grip to a looser hold. The first man started moving again, his steps still unhurried, while the second man stood guard at the other end of the alley.

  “Well lookey what we have here. ” The first man tilted his head. “A spirit walker without her bodyguard. ”

  Definitely not humans.

  “What do you reckon the prize for killing this filly will be?”

  “Killing the number one mark when the others couldn’t?” The second man said. “We’ll be kicked up a few notches in the company, that’s for damn sure. ”

  Both men were absolutely giddy at the prospect of ending my life. What they didn’t know, was that I felt the same way about ending theirs.

  “You’re pretty over confident,” I remarked. “Sounds like you’re compensating for something. ”

  The first man stepped closer. “I wouldn’t spout off when you don’t have your angel to back it up. ”

  That was fine, I would allow them to keep underestimating me. If they thought I was helpless then I had the upper hand.

  “I think I’ll have a bite to eat before I kill you. Your heart is serenading me. ” He closed his eyes and began making sounds to mimic the beating of my heart, keeping perfect pace with the slamming in my chest. Figures the two to pin me would be demonic vampires. While he reveled in the music of my heartbeat; I tried to connect with any surrounding spirits. New Orleans was full of them, but I couldn’t sense any nearby. It looked like my knife was my only defense this time.

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