Bewitching Belle

by Debra Kristi

  I wait. Lean against the wall. Try to look casual. I’m not feeling it. I lurch into a pace, walking back and forth in front of the lower wall. I shift and curve to the car. Lean against the door. I can’t get comfortable. I wiggle and itch. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long.

  The hint of a bike rises above the level of the brick.

  I race forward and raise my hands toward the emerging work of metal. Handlebars, then a padded seat.

  “Got it?” Michael asks from the other side of the wall. I grab ahold of the handlebars and tell him that my grip is secure. “Pull,” he says.

  I pull and my brother pushes, and the first of two bikes comes reluctantly over the wall. It’s mine.

  “Be right back,” he says, and I imagine him racing back through the cemetery for Luna’s bike.

  I prop my bike at a stand and then go to the car and push the trunk release button. Lift and angle my bike into the cargo space, killing time while I wait.

  “Belle, can you reach?” My brother’s voice comes from the other side of the wall.

  Abandoning my bike loading effort, I rush to the wall and help pull the second bike to the outside of the cemetery wall. Once the bike is sitting at my side with both wheels on the ground, Michael climbs back over the wall.

  “Don’t make this a habit,” he says with a clear jabbing-at-me smile.

  He organizes the two bikes within the trunk for the best fit and then drives me to Luna’s, where we leave her bike by her back door. Although Luna ran home to tell her mom about her dad’s newly discovered condition, no one appears to now be home.

  We leave the bike and, since Michael isn’t going to make me pedal home, head for Grandma’s.

  At Grandma’s, he secures my bike in the back courtyard and then waits beside the gate to verify my safe return home. I enter the same way I exited earlier, through the back door.

  The rooms are dark, and, not wanting to be caught returning from a trip I never told them I was taking, I slip silently into the house. I tiptoe through the back enclosed porch, into the kitchen and dining area.

  The lights flicker to life. I freeze solid, stick in place. Grandma is leaning into the wall beside the light switch. “Where have you been?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  My mouth falls open, and my gaze wanders to the clock. According to the big and little hand, we have slipped into Sunday, leaving Saturday in the past.

  “It’s actually really early,” I say.

  Grandma’s hand punches the air, her finger striking in a sharp slice. “Do not play word games with me, Belle. The streets are not safe at night and you had me worried to my core.” She exhales a harsh breath. “Last I knew, you were in the house. And then suddenly, you were gone. I sent Phillip and Miri out looking for you.”

  “I’m sorry, Grandma.” I drop my head. “But I was out with Michael, so I was completely safe.”

  “Is that what you think?’ She steps away from the wall and takes a step closer. Better to pierce me with her accusing glare. She has left her cane propped against the wall and moves unassisted. “And what were you and Michael doing at this dark hour?”

  “Um…” My mouth is lax, unwilling to pull forth words explaining my day to date.

  The front door opens with a bang. Grandma and I snap our attention to the sound. Miri and Phillip enter with my brother Michael in tow.

  “Guess who we found parked in front of the house.” Miri shrugs off her jacket and lays it over the back of the sofa. Phillip does the same. Michael leaves his zipped in place, clearly not intending to stay. His lingering gaze shifts from me to Grandma.

  “I don’t know what the big deal is?” He shoves his hands deep into his jacket pockets. “I simply gave Belle a lift home from her friend’s house.” A half-truth, but I’m not going to clarify such a thing to the rest of my family.

  Phillip hangs at the back of the group and leans against the side of the sofa, choosing not to get involved in our family drama. I kinda wish I could do the same.

  “You went back to Luna’s?” Miri spins from Michael to me.

  “Well… yeah. I couldn’t leave things the way that I had,” I say. “I needed to make them better.”

  “And did you?” she prompts.

  Grandma’s intense stare is set firmly on me, silently beating me into the ground. With a sharp intake of breath, the floor draws my sudden interest and I drop my gaze. Shake a solid no. “I don’t believe I did,” I say.

  The room falls uncomfortably quiet. Raising my gaze, I sweep over my attending family. Grandma’s peer darts to Phillip, then to Miri. Michael catches the action and shifts his attention, albeit temporarily, to the blond boy leaning against the sofa and resting his eyes.

  It’s late. He’s tired. And… he’s not in the magickal know. Grandma is silently requesting Phillip go.

  “Phillip.” Miri moves to his side and places her hand on his chest. His eyes pop open.

  “Sorry,” he blurts. “Did I miss something?”

  “Nothing important,” she quips. “But you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep?”

  He jerks to a stand and glances over our little group. “If you all don’t mind,” he says. “I wouldn’t mind catching a few winks before the day starts rolling in.”

  “Go ahead, Phillip,” Grandma says with a mild smile tacked in place. “You’ve done more than enough, and I couldn’t possibly properly thank you.”

  “No need for thanks,” Phillip says. “We’re soon to be family, and family looks out for one another.”

  “Indeed.” Grandma nods.

  “I’ll just see him out.” Miri places her hand on Phillip’s back and leads him to the front door. Michael turns and follows. And I, wanting to get a word in with Miri’s fiancé, tag along at the back of the procession.

  “Where to you all think you are going?” Grandma’s voice punches the air.

  “Like Phillip…” Michael spins back and shoves a pointed thumb toward the exit. “I’d like to catch some sleep before Sunday gets officially underway.”

  “Oh no.” She waves her finger in the air like a speeding metronome. “You aren’t going anywhere. Not yet.” Her gaze shifts to me, awaiting my answer to the question presented.

  “I just want to ask Phillip something real quick,” I say.

  Miri and Phillip glance back at my admission.

  I shift forward, close at their back, and lower my voice in hopes of keeping the knowledge of the request from Grandma’s ears.

  “What’s up?” Phillip asks, and pushes the fall of hair from his face.

  “I was wondering if you might be able to check on Caleb?” I say.

  Phillip’s gaze darts from me to Miri. “You sisters sure do appear to be operating on the same wavelength.” He half grins and half laughs.

  “I asked him earlier today,” Miri says in way of an explanation.

  “It’s on my action list for tomorrow,” Phillip adds.

  “Oh.” My lower lip drops. As does the tension in my shoulders. “Great. Thanks. Thanks, Phil.”

  “No problem. I’ll let you know what I find out in the morning.” He glances out the window. “Or late morning, possibly lunchtime.”

  I choke on a bubble of laughter, and Miri escorts Phillip to the porch. I turn away, not wanting to invade their private moment or their kiss goodnight.

  Resigning to my current fate, I return to the dining table, discard my jacket, and drop into a chair. “Lay it on me,” I say.

  “Lay what on you?” Grandma asks.

  “All your anger and frustration, of course.” I slouch in my seat.

  Clearly accepting the fact he won’t be returning to his bed anytime soon, Michael joins me at the table.

  “How would you expect me to act when someone I love dearly has gone missing?” She clutches the back of the closest chair. “Please tell me you were not messing in the bokor business.”

  I huff. Jerk straight. “It’s my friend, Grandma! Her father h
as been bewitched. I can’t just ignore that… look the other way.”

  “You could at least try to do the sensible thing.” She leans forward. “Stay clear of danger.”

  “In her defense,” Michael says, his fingers tapping against the wood of the table. “Her sneaking about appears to have gone unnoticed.”

  “And how do you know this to be the case?” Grandma twists to face him and his tapping ceases.

  “Because she’s here.” He stretches his arm across the table and motions to me, sitting in the chair. “And she’s unhurt. I don’t think that would be the case had they noticed her.”

  This seems to strike some sort of cord with Grandma. Her shoulders relax, and her lips pull into a tight line. She breathes in and out with slow raspy breaths, three times.

  “Please do not take this the wrong way,” she says to me. “Luna seems like a very nice girl. But there are rules, an order among the various factions practicing within the Quarter…”

  “But we aren’t part of any faction, nor part of the Quarter.” I pitch forward, press into the edge of the table.

  “No. We are not.” Grandma’s words are slow and measured. “But we mustn’t turn eyes our way. It would be unwise and potentially devastating, not to mention dangerous, for our family.” Her attention swivels to my brother.

  Right. Although it is located at the outermost edge, Michael’s school is technically still within the boundaries of the Quarter. I glance at my brother. My attention quickly shifts to the entry. Miri slips inside, softly closing the front door, and returns to our company, coming to rest against the dining area doorframe.

  “We’re not currently on his radar, and I would like to keep it that way,” Grandma says of the bokor and glances between the three of us.

  “But we’re not off his radar,” I blurt. “I don’t think we ever have been. Look at Mom and the fire.” I motion to the ceiling in reference to the woman trapped in the room above, then drop my hand and glance at Michael. At the scar cutting across the left side of his face. A result of the fire collapsing the house on him.

  All Caleb’s fault.

  “You’re referring to Caleb?” Miri’s voice is soft, yet firm. She pushes away from the wall and moves deeper into the room.

  “Yes,” I blurt. “He tried to kill us, and now he has control of Mom.” I shake my head. “He was working with, or for, the voodoo priest then and probably still is. A voodoo priest with loose ties to a certain bokor.”

  “You can’t know that,” Grandma interjects. “Without knowledge of who has ties to who, this is all speculation. And unless you are involved in their practice, you can’t know the various connections.

  “But what if I have connections who are in the know?” I counter, pinning my glare on her.

  Grandma frowns and the intensity of her stare softens a smidgen.

  “She’s not wrong,” Michael adds.

  “Is this what your school is teaching you?” Grandma shifts her weight, and her attention, to my brother. He shrugs, by way of answer. “A hundred years of peace, staying out of the dangerous business of the local practitioners, and now this.” She sighs.

  “But that isn’t true, is it?” Michael says. Miri and I both snap our gaze to him. Grandma merely shakes her head, her mouth dropping slightly open. “Dad.”

  It’s one word, but it cuts to the core of everyone’s composure.

  My father left before I was born and for that reason… and others… he is dead to me. I don’t care what happened to him. But… if it has something to do with the bokor or Caleb or the voodoo priest, and it holds some sort of relevance to the current situation, I will listen. Want to listen.

  My eyes widen and I press back, balance my chair on two legs. Grandma’s grip on the back of the chair bleaches of color. Miri lurches forward and slams her hands on the table.

  “All these years, and now you’re willing to talk?” Miri’s voice is a collection of cat claws to the side of the face. “Spill. Spill everything you know about Dad.”

  Grandma collapses into the chair across from me. “If we are to have learned anything from what happened to your father, it is to stay clear of the business of others. Even the friendliest of so-called collaborations can come back and stab you in the heart.” She presses her hand to her chest.

  Weighted by the intensity of her words, Miri, Michael, and I stare at Grandma in silence.

  “Would you not want revenge?” Michael’s inquiry slips softly through the stillness.

  “No.” Grandma shakes her head. “What I want is for my grandbabies to remain safe from a similar or worse fate.” She pushes to a stand. “I am too old for these late nights or intense arguments. I implore you all to heed my words, stay out of trouble and stay away from the bokor and his men.” She turns and heads from the room. Grabs her cane from its place propped against the wall. “I am going to bed,” she announces.

  She exits the dining area and moves into the next room. Bastian bounds into view, weaves back and forth at her feet, meowing. “Yes, I know,” she says to the cat. “The kids are all but determined to get into a heap of trouble.”

  Bastian follows her up the stairs.

  When Grandma is out of sight, and the sound of her bedroom door has closed, Miri drops into the chair Grandma vacated and pins her gaze on our brother.

  “What happened to dad?”

  “I don’t know all the details.” He leans back and presses his hands to the side of his head. Yawns. “All I know is, he tried to bridge the gap between our family and the other practitioners of the area. He wanted to put an end to the age-old prejudice against our bloodline.”

  “And they killed him?” Miri jumps in.

  Michael shakes his head, disputing her input.

  “They turned him into a zombie.” I lean into the table, and recall the look on Mr. Flores’ face. Poor Luna.

  Michael shoots me a somber frown, and Miri a look of utter bewilderment.

  “Dad established a few relationships. He called them new friends. He would tell me not to worry, that everything would be different for me, when I reached his age. But then, he started to change. His attitude darkened.” Michael rubs his forehead. “In a matter of weeks, I didn’t recognize him anymore. He’d changed so much.” His gaze shifts to Miri. “And then, Grandma caught him trying to syphon your life force.”

  Miri gasps. Jolts back against the chair’s support.

  “Of course, Grandma tried to convince me I’d seen something else. But I know what I saw.” He scratches the back of his neck, and the circles around his eyes appear to age years beyond the possibilities. “I never saw Dad again after that day. He got sent away, for your protection.” His gaze tightens on Miri.

  “I… I…” she stammers.

  “And that’s why I never told you,” he says.

  Unlike me, Miri has always wanted for our dad. All these years of wishing and wanting, only to discover he attempted to undo her. My heart squeezes flat.

  “I’ve had a lot of years to consider all the possibilities,’ Michael says. “I think the voodoo priest, or possibly the bokor, did something to him that accounts for the changes. And seeing your possibilities at such a young age, they directed our Dad to take your energy, deliver it to them.”

  “Use it for a battery,” I interject, recalling the toothy girl’s message for Caleb: “He wants more batteries.” meaning souls.

  “Oh.” Miri’s hand flies to her lips. “I could have been reduced to nothing more than someone else’s power cell.”

  “What are you guys talking about?” Michael asks.

  “This little toothy girl…” I fan my hands out across the table.

  “Vampire wannabe,” Miri interjects.

  Whatever. I shake my head. “This toothy vampire wannabe gave me a message to deliver to Caleb,” I say. “She wanted me to tell him the boss wants more batteries. Which translates into souls.”

  “Well, shit.” Michael bolts from the chair. “Do you think that’s what he’s
doing to Mom? Using her as a battery?”

  “My gut tells me no.” Miri stares forward, a slightly dazed expression on her face.

  “We can’t take the chance.” Michael starts to pace. “We need to do something quick.”

  “We are,” Miri says. “One thing at a time, and in the proper order. Phillip is checking on Caleb’s status tomorrow so that we know where we stand on that front.”

  Michael grunts. “I just want it all fixed now. Not tomorrow or next week. Now.”

  “We all feel the same,” I say. “But we’re bound by circumstances and things outside of our control.”

  Miri pushes to a stand. Her hand rubs at her belly. “We’re all tired. Let’s call it a night. Get some sleep.” She glances between me and Michael. Warming behind her eyes is the hint of the powerful witch she could become, if she would only allow it to be so. “Tomorrow, we will find out about Caleb’s current situation and then take it from there. Mike.” She turns her attention to him. “See what you can find out about this soul-powered battery thing from your all-too-private school.”

  “Asking questions of that nature won’t go over well with the people there,” he says.

  “You’ll figure it out.” She crosses her arms. “I’ll see if I can reach Mom inside that mess upstairs and get her to give me more information about Dad’s relations in the Quarter.”

  “And I’ll reach out to my friend James and see if his brother can’t get us more information about the bokor and his dealings.” I pop my hands on my hip and a determined smile on my lips.

  “What did I tell you about that?” Michael blurts.

  Don’t talk to people we don’t know if we can trust… or something like that. But I totally trust James. I toss my brother a smirk.

  “Enough for tonight,” Miri says. “This baby and I need sleep.”

  My gaze drops to her belly, and I envision a tiny baby girl tugging at the umbilical cord in protest of the late hour.

  With tired grumbles and lazy shuffles, Michael heads out the door, and Miri and I climb the stairs, all the way to the third floor. She falls into bed. I wash off any remaining cemetery mud and slip into a clean tee, crash between the sheets, falling immediately into a deep sleep.