by Debra Kristi
“Not likely,” she quips. “If the spell is performed with true intent, then it should only draw the energies that are meant to be.”
I press my palm to my heart, and warmth spreads through my chest. “Thanks,” I say, my voice cracking.
“You okay?” she asks.
I assure her I am and then, telling her I’ll see her at school, end the call.
I still need to call James, but I feel like I’ve been on the phone forever. Deciding for a short break, I step into the bathroom and wash my face. When I’m done, Mom is waiting for me.
“You sure aren’t acting like a girl who’s been too sick to even travel home before now,” she says.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” I throw my arms around her and hug her tight. It’s a deflect from her current course of thinking, but the act is also genuine. I’ve been over the clouds with worry over her, and right now, she seems rather normal. It’s a refreshing change.
Well. Mostly normal, anyway. There is that whole thing with the call from Chuks. But I don’t want to think about that this very second.
“How’s your stomach?” She pulls back and appraises me. “Want me to make you something?” She motions toward the kitchen.
At the mention of a meal… like a real, serious meal… my stomach flops. I grimace and press my hands to my gut. “No thanks. I’m not ready to take that kind of leap just yet.”
“Okay. I understand.” She rubs my back. “Can I get you anything? Some ginger tea, perhaps?”
“Perhaps.” I tug a light smile to my lips.
With her arm wrapped around my shoulder, she returns with me to the kitchen, then steps away and starts rummaging through the cabinet for the saucepan.
“I need to call James, let him know I’m alright.” I lift the phone from the cradle. “I’ll make it quick.”
“Please do,” she says. “I’d like to spend some time with my busy, busy daughter.” She casts me a playful smile.
Right then, I decide I must make my call with James quick. No deep dives into the supernatural problems surrounding us. That discussion will have to wait until tomorrow. I punch James’s number into the phone. It rings twice.
“Hey girl! Where were you today?” His voice is a bouncy, spring breeze.
“How did you know it was me?” I ask, pressure pushing into the point between my brows.
“Caller ID. Mom got it the other day after John showed up at the house and insisted,” he says. “Then he told me not to take any call I didn’t recognize. That’s not ominous, is it?”
The bokor calls me, right after James’s brother urges them to get caller ID. James’s brother, John, knows something. “Crazy,” I say. “We should get together with him again.”
“Oh?” The surprise is evident in his tone.
“Yep. Definitely.” Trying to act natural, I turn away from my mother and lower my voice a smidge. “Sorry I missed today. I got seriously sick last night, but I feel better now. It was like a twenty-four-hour food poisoning thing.”
“Food poisoning is the worst.”
“Yeah,” I interject. “Anyway, I’m getting ready to sit down to have tea with my mom. I just wanted to call you back and let you know why I wasn’t there today.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”
“I talked to Jeanna earlier,” I glance over my shoulder at my mom. She has sliced the ginger and dropped it into the saucepan, along with a dash of pepper and turmeric. She’s merely letting it all simmer the required length of time. I return my attention to James. “You should give her a call. She can fill you in on everything we discussed.”
“Ooh! I gottcha. Can’t talk in front of your mom?” he asks.
“Exactly.” I fight a grin wanting to take over my expression.
“Jeanna have juicy details to share?” He probs.
“I don’t think that’s the word I would use.” I twist and pull the phone cord. “Anyway, you should talk to her, and I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“You got it. Later, gator.” He ends the call.
After returning the phone to its place on the wall, I take a seat at the table with my mom. She sets two cups of ginger tea on the table, complete with lemon slices. She takes a seat and smiles.
“This is nice,” she says. “I enjoy our time together.”
“Me, too.” I raise my cup and blow on my tea.
“You can be proud of your ol’ Mom.” She rubs the tip of her finger along the edge of the teacup. My head jerks up and I give her my full attention. “I applied for a promotion.” She tilts her head. “No decisions will be made right away. They need to interview all the parties interested, but I have a good feeling about this. I’ve been with the company a long time, and I’ve paid my dues.”
“That’s great, Mom,” I say. “I hope you get the position. Your boss would be a fool to pass you up.”
“It’s not completely up to him,” Mom says. “There’s HR and…”
“Stop stressing over all the details,” I blurt. “Be proud of this moment. Should we toast to your courage?” I tip my cup toward hers.
“We shall.” She clinks the edge of her cup against mine, and we both take a drink. “So, tell me about this new girl that seems to have joined your circle.”
“Luna?” I exclaim. “She’s new to the area. James invited her to join our coven and she did. She’s pretty cool.” I tell my mom only the safe-to-say things and leave out anything to do with debts owed and bokor demands.
Eventually, I retire to my room and pour through spell book after spell book, looking for the one casting that calls to me. Sings, this is the one to save and heal Mom. I take several notes but make no solid decisions.
The next day, at school, Jeanna, James, and I gather at lunch. We exchange information and compare notes, make sure we are all in-the-know and on the same page as to which spells we need mentally prepare for and cast on Thursday.
Once home, I check on Luna to make sure she’s alright, which she is. After Luna, I call Miri, remembering I’d told her I wanted to talk to her about Luna. We rehash our conversation about Mom and her mood swings, which somehow morphs into a conversation about Grandma sleeping a lot today and yesterday.
“Should we be worried?” I ask.
“Not just yet,” Miri says. “She tells me this is to be expected.”
“How so?” My voice jumps.
“You’re asking the wrong person,” she replies. “I don’t do magick. Remember?”
“Right.” I bite my nails and say a silent prayer for Grandma. She had better not be ill because of me. Damn the bokor, his men, and whatever poison they slipped me. Luna could have been killed! My nerves are wired, and I need Miri on my side. Without grace, everything about Luna and bokor spill from my lips to Miri’s ear.
“That’s seriously bad stuff, Belle,” Miri says. ‘You need to distance yourself from that entire situation before it gets you killed.”
“You too?” My mouth drops open. It’s like Miri is channeling Grandma. I can’t believe my ears. “I’m shocked you would suggest I abandon a friend in need.”
“It’s for your own safety,” she says.
I hang up.
Pull the lavender from my collection of herbs and spices, unscrew the cap, and take a deep, calming whiff.
I will not allow the differing opinions of my family members to get the best of me.
Placing the lavender back on the shelf, I go to bed early. Toss and turn until I fall asleep. Awake with a start to the sound of the phone ringing. It’s Luna calling. I don’t know how I know; I just do. My gaze snaps to the clock on my nightstand. It’s eleven o’clock at night. I jump out of bed and race to the phone in the kitchen. Pick it up before it can ring a second time.
“Hello,” I say, slightly breathless.
“Hello,” Mom’s groggy voice answers from the line in her bedroom.
“I got it, Mom. Go back to bed.”
“Who is calling at this late hour?” she asks.
“Sorry, Mrs.
Roussard. It’s me, Luna. I apologize for waking you.”
“Oh, hi Luna. It’s late and a school night. You girls should be in bed.”
“Yes ma’am,” Luna says.
“We’ll keep it short,” I add.
“You best. Goodnight, Luna.” She hangs up the phone.
“I did as you said,” Luna whispers, as if my mom can hear her through the line. “I stayed indoors all day, hid in my bedroom. But the bokor was in my house today,” she says. “In my house! And he said… he said…”
“Yes,” I urge.
“He said, if I don’t take his offer, he’s going to kill my dad.”
Chapter Ten
Either she works for the bokor or her father dies. The call falls silent, and for a moment, the sound of the rain on the kitchen window resembles much more of a slam than a ping.
“No one is going to kill your dad. We’ll protect him. I promise you.” My words are saying one thing, but my mind is cussing a string of profanities and my body is quaking with insecurity.
“How will we do that?” she asks. “He’s like, one of the smartest, strongest magick men in the district, right?”
She isn’t wrong. The bokor, and likely his men, are far more experienced than our fledgling coven. We need the help of practitioners like John, Michael, and Grandma. But John is scared of Chuks the bokor, and Grandma has made her opinion as clear as a perfect crystalline quartz.
“We’ll do a protection spell for him, just like we are going to do for you,” I say.
“Do you think that will work?” she asks.
“It has to.” Because, if it doesn’t, I don’t know what we will do. I press my hand against my forehead and push back, flattening my kinky curls. “So, on Thursday, we’ll do two different types of protection spells for both of you. I’ll need you to bring something of his, something meaningful, along with a lock of his hair.”
“What do I do in the meantime?” she says.
“Try to keep your dad from leaving the house, if that is possible. Also, try to convince your parents not to let anyone into the house.” I tug on the phone cord, stretching to the point that the curls are nonexistent.
Luna sighs. “I’ll try, but that will be hard.”
“I know, but your dad seems to have a basic understanding of the trouble this bokor means to bring, right?”
“Yeah,” she says.
“Then he shouldn’t be that hard to convince,” I reason.
“Right.”
“Mirabelle,” Mom calls from her bedroom.
I groan. I hate leaving Luna under these conditions. I wish I could transport myself there and give her a big hug. Kind of like the way I transported us on the bike. But I honestly have no idea how I managed that.
“I have to go,” I say. “I don’t want to, but you know…” Mom is listening, waiting are the words I don’t say. Don’t expect they need to be said. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Okay. Talk to you then.” We end the call.
When I crawl into bed, sleep is the last thing willing to cuddle with me. Anxiety, frustration, nerves galore, but sleep… no.
On Wednesday, I move through my classes like a dog on the Fourth of July… jumpy as all get-out. At every loud noise or unexpected breeze, I jump, expecting to see the bokor there, watching me.
He never is.
James and Jeanna are quick to notice my jitters. Of course, I apprise them of the latest developments with the bokor, which makes them almost as jumpy.
When Jeanna, James, and I head for home, after the school day has ended, an all-to-familiar car is idling in the front parking lot. It gives me pause. Windows down, engine grumbling, the older model American car is too long and too boxy for my taste.
My brother Michael leans across the front seat, toward the passenger window and waves me forward. “Get in.”
Tightening my clutch on my backpack strap, I tell my friends I’ll catch up with them later and walk to the car, get in on the passenger side.
“Dare I ask what the reason is for this surprise visit?” I pull the door to a close.
“I wanted to talk to you.” He shifts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. Drives back across the front of the school. I wave to James and Jeanna as we swing past them on the street, and they watch us drive by with wide-eyed stares.
“Wouldn’t a phone call be easier?” I buckle my seatbelt.
“This is one of those conversations I’d rather have in person.” He turns the car in the opposite direction of Mom’s house.
“Okay.” I say the word slowly. My nerves clenching. “Where are we going? Did something happen to Grandma?”
“Grandma is fine,” he replies, keeping his focus on the road ahead and the herd of kids everywhere.
I press my hand to my chest and heave a sigh of relief. I have to admit, when I saw Michael, I feared the worst.
My eyes widen. “Miri?” The baby?
“Miri is fine. Everyone is fine.” He glances at me and bestows me with a crooked grin. “Does someone have to be in trouble for me to visit?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I’m trying to remember the last time you came to visit me of your own accord.”
“Point taken. I’ll try to visit more often.”
“Alright…” I glance out the window. “If no one is injured, ill, or dying, where are you taking me?”
“Nowhere in particular. Just somewhere where there aren’t any ears listening in on our conversation,” he says. “So basically, my car.”
“Because you think people are listening to us when we’re in public? At a café, walking down the street, even hanging out on the sofa at home?”
“Basically, yeah.” He nods. “Except Grandma’s. That house is safe, but I don’t feel we need to drive that far when the car will work perfectly fine.”
“Seriously?” My head jerks back. “Are you suggesting my house isn’t safe?”
“Can’t be sure.” His brows pinch. “Miri told me your suspicions about Mom, and if you are correct, then there is a high probability that your place isn’t a safe zone.”
I blink wide, recall all the phone conversations I’ve had in the past few days. If anyone is listening to the chatter at my place, they have received an earful.
Michael directs the car along the riverside, pulling to a stop where there aren’t any buildings on either side of us. Only grass for a full block. “This should fit the bill,” he says.
He cuts the engine and turns to face me. “I’d like to combine my magick with yours to help detangle Mom’s energy.”
“Really?” I jerk forward. Practically jump at him. My insides are bubbling like an effervescent bottle of shaken cold drink. I want to leap into his lap and hug him silly. “That’s amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Unable to contain myself, I finally leap forward and wrap him in my embrace. Squeeze with all my might.
“Alright.” He laughs and pushes me back into my seat. “You’re welcome. She is my mom, too.”
“I know.” I bite my lip and jump in my seat. The ability to sit still has abandoned me. “What about Miri? Is she going to help?”
“You know Miri.” He tosses his head back. “She has sworn off magick.”
“Even for Mom?”
“Even for her,” he says.
I nod, a frown firmly in place across my lips. “Doesn’t matter. With your energy added to that of the coven’s, we are going to be casting some powerful spell work tomorrow.”
“The coven?” Michael’s chin pulls back and face widens, pulling at the skin around his scar.
“Yeah. I have a coven.” I shrug my shoulders and throw out my hands. “I thought you knew that?” I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter. I have one. There are three of us… four.” I correct, remembering to add Luna. “And they have been mentally preparing for the coming casting.
“And you trust them?” he asks.
“With my life,” I blurt.
“Well, then. That’s some
serious bonding. Guess I’ll have to trust them, too.” He leans into his elbow, propped against the door handle.
“So, what do we do?” I ask.
“I thought you had this all figured out?” he counters.
“Are you kidding?” My flared hands jump into the air at my side. “For well over a year now, I have been working through the process of elimination. Cast a spell. It doesn’t work. Move on to the next one.”
“Miri led me to believe you had a solid lead on what is wrong with Mom.” He adjusts his weight, shifting back against the door.
“Hopefully, but I can’t know for sure. Not yet anyway. I have no proof.”
“And where should we be looking for this proof?” he asks.
“At my house, I think.” I sigh.
“Alright then.” He turns the key, sparking the engine back to life. “Let’s go find us some proof. Mom’s still at work, right?”
“I think so,” I say and settle into my seat. He turns the car around and heads for the house. Along the way, I tell him all about my supposed food poisoning, Grandma’s nasty healing “pill,” Luna and the bokor.
“That’s some grade A death-bait material, Belle.” He shakes his head. “What is it with the Roussard sisters? You guys go looking for trouble?” I get what he is saying about me, but what trouble has Miri gotten into, besides finding herself in the motherly way? Is he referring to the whole situation with Caleb? I decide he must be. I would know if there was something else… wouldn’t I?
He drives past my house, stops, and parks two houses away. Killing the engine, he shifts toward me. “In case Mom comes home,” he says.
“Right.” I nod slowly. In case Mom comes home, his car won’t be sitting in front of the house, announcing his presence.
We lock the car and slowly walk back to the house. The entirety of the short walk, Michael is on constant guard, watching for anyone suspicious.
“Is this how you live now?” I ask. “Paranoid, always looking over your shoulder?”
“Miri says you think Mom has been brainwashed. Some sort of trigger or something Caleb has her programmed to activate and reactivate often.” Ignoring my question, he dives into the issue we should be focused on. The reason for his visit.