by Debra Kristi
“Inside,” Grandma says. “Inside quickly. The weather is ominous for a day such as today. We shouldn’t subject ourselves to its dreary nature any longer than necessary.”
We all file through the door and Bastian races past to be the first paw to touch the floor within. Jeanna lurches forward and swoops the cat into her embrace. “So, this is the cat that cured you from your curse?” she says to Mom.
“So, I’ve been told,” Mom replies and closes the front door behind us.
“This is clearly no ordinary cat.” James fluffs the hair on Bastian’s head.
“No offense, dear boy,” Grandma says. “But why are you here, at a girl’s bridal shower?”
“Because I invited him,” I blurt. “And this evening, James is one of the girls, Grandma. And besides, this is more of a bachelorette party than it is a bridal shower.”
“It’s a dual purpose,” Mom interjects.
“I’m so excited.” Miri rushes down the stairs. “Now the fun can begin. And we are going to have such fun!”
Thunder cracks overhead, and the power to the house blinks out.
Chapter Thirty
“Okay.” James pushes his hands out at his sides and turns in a slow circle, taking in the darkened room. Outside, another thunder crash followed by lightning. “This cannot be a good omen.”
“Stop it,” I say, slapping his arm. “It will be fine. The storm simply knocked out a power line or something.” Mom shoots me a sideways glance filled with uncertainty.
“Yeah, but… why the storm? Why today?” he presses.
“What are you talking about?” Jeanna says. “The weather has sucked for weeks. Rain, rain, and more rain. What makes today’s condition any different or more special?”
“Um… duh.” James motions to Miri, inferring that the weather could be a not-so-great sign for her coming union.
“You don’t think…” Miri descends the final step and glances over the group, turns her attention toward the window and the weather beyond.
“Not at all,” I blurt. “Absolutely nothing is going to shine a negative light on your future.” She smiles at me, but the gesture doesn’t quite beam from her heart, and I suspect she’s concerned that the crap I recently got involved in will boomerang back to curse her.
Grandma stomps her cane. “Come now, witches. Let’s give this place some light.” She raises her hand, Jeanna, James, and Mom do the same, and candles throughout the room flicker to life.
I pinch a bit of chili powder from my apron and blow it toward the fireplace. “Illumination,” I whisper. The red dust settles within the hearth and bursts into crackling flames.
“So cool,” Luna says, taking in all the new sources of illumination.
“Okay, let’s get this party started,” Grandma prompts.
The dining table is filled with drinks and eatables. Everyone drops their gifts on the sideboard… everyone except me. I want to personally hand deliver my gift and since it is small, I slip the box in one of my apron’s side pockets. Then fill my plate with yummies and settle into the front room near the fire. As does everyone else. We eat, tell stories, and giggle a lot. Bastian joins the group and hangs at the outer edge, keeping a close eye on the food as it moves from plates to mouths.
An unopened letter addressed to Miri sits on the coffee table. I recognize the writing as Phillip’s. I wonder if it is the letter he’d told me about. His gift to Miri. His share of memories, emotions, and promises.
“What are Phillip and the guys doing tonight?” I ask, shifting my attention from the letter to my sister.
Miri’s fingers drift to her neck and rub against her necklace. A Valentine’s Day gift from Phillip. Two, tiny intertwined gold hearts. “No idea, but I suspect, absolutely no good. Several of the guys from the fire house hinted at a few wild adventures.”
“Like a last big hurrah?” I ask. “At least they have Michael with them.”
“I haven’t yet decided if that is a good or a bad thing.” Her smile betrays her true feelings on the matter. She’s glad for his presence.
The house lights blink to full illumination and everyone cheers.
“And just like that, balance is restored,” Jeanna chimes.
“I wouldn’t go quite that far as to call the lights coming back on a restoration of balance.” James frowns.
Luna glances from person to person within our circle, her gaze landing on Miri. “Do you have any other friends coming?”
“Nah,” Miri says. “I prefer not to take chances, subjecting my few non-magickal friends to a house full of witches. Too many things could develop that I’d have a difficult time explaining.”
“Oh.” Luna turns to me, whispers, “But doesn’t she want her friends here?”
“Apparently not,” I say.
Outside, the wind howls, and Luna shivers. Grants me a nervous smile. I reach over and squeeze her hand.
“Now that we have proper lighting… and electricity… it’s time to start the fun.” Miri points to the collection of manicure essentials. Bottles of nail polish, nail files, remover and cotton balls. She jumps up and moves to the television, pops in a VHS, and starts the movie Ghost.
“An uplifting movie choice to celebrate your upcoming nuptials,” I say with a tinge of sarcasm.
“It’s about love transcending death,” she says. “How is that a bad thing?”
“She’s not wrong,” James says of my sister and snags a black nail polish from the table.
“Let’s keep everything positive here,” Mom interjects and sets a tray of champagne flutes filled with sparkling cider on the table.
I collect two glasses and hand one to Luna. “To new and, hopefully, long-lasting relationships.” I tap my glass against hers.
“I’ll drink to that,” she says and takes a sip.
As a group, we toast to a long and loving marriage for Miri and Phillip, then get busy painting our nails and socializing over the movie. Luna paints my nails blue, and I paint hers purple. Add tiny heart appliques. Miri’s nails are painted a pearlescent white. Jeanna adds tiny rhinestones in the shape of a flower on Miri’s wedding ring finger. Mom and Grandma both paint their nails silver, to complement their mother and grandmother-of-the-bride attire to be worn on Saturday.
When everyone’s nails have been painted and conversations have dwindled, we watch the conclusion of the movie in profound silence. Witness intense emotion shine through the veil of life, and work to protect loved ones from the beyond.
The phone rings.
Everyone jumps. Mom grabs the receiver and answers the call. “Luna, it’s for you.” She holds the phone out. “It’s your mother.”
Luna rises from her seat, and Miri pauses the movie. “You don’t need to do that. You should all keep watching,” Luna says and crosses the room, accepts the phone from my mom. “Mom?” she says into the receiver. “Is everything alright?” Luna’s expression changes and my skin prickles.
Bastian stands on his hind legs and stares past the group toward something unseen. Miri’s gaze shifts to the front window. “Something isn’t right,” she murmurs, stands and crosses the room.
“What was it I said about bad omens?” James whispers. Jeanna slaps her arm across his chest, stopping him short.
“What is it, Miri?” I jump to her side, glance back at Luna.
Luna’s mouth drops open, and her hold on the phone drifts away from her ear. Her gaze darts to the window Miri approaches.
“I have a seriously bad vibe racing through my blood,” James says.
Grandma pushes to a stand, and Mom steps beside her, as if their closeness adds strength and confidence to the situation.
Miri yanks back the curtains.
Standing in front of the house, in the pouring rain, is Luna’s mom with Chuks the bokor. White skull paint holds to his face, running only slightly, and he holds a dark brick to his ear. A cell phone. Several of his henchmen stand a few feet at his back.
I dash to Luna’s side and sna
tch the phone from her grasp.
“Belle. So pleased you decided to join the conversation. I received your note,” he says. “No one. Absolutely no one. Tells me what to do. You do not try to deal with me. I set the ground rules. Understand? This whole situation and your attempt to manipulate your desired end... I have to say, I’m not happy with you. Not at all, little witch,” he says. “And Mrs. Flores here is going to demonstrate just how irritated I am.” Luna’s mom raises a large knife to her neck.
“No,” Luna and I yell in unison, lurching forward as if we could snatch the weapon from her grasp in one swoop. But they stand at the curb, beyond the walls of the home, and we are safe and dry inside.
“You think you can fare better than you did when we last met?” He asks. “Come out here and show me your strength. Then let me show you why you never should have crossed me.”
I hand the phone back to Luna and march toward the front door, a chorus of complaints my company. No one wants me to confront the bokor. Not Grandma, Mom, Luna, James, or Jeanna. But when Miri grabs my arm, her intense stare causes me pause.
I stop and return her gaze. “What?” I blurt.
“Don’t be foolish, Belle,” she says. “I see his power; it is thick and explosive all around him. And that is not a fight you can win.”
“You see his power… with your third eye?” She nods. “And I am not strong enough to win?” She nods again. “But you could? Win, I mean.”
She blinks. Looks away, over the group, then back to me. “I… I gave up magick.” Her forehead presses with wrinkles.
“A combination of strength and power?” Luna steps to my side.
I grab her hand in way of an answer. Within seconds, James and Jeanna are at our side, extending our chain and adding their might to that of mine and Luna’s.
“If you don’t come out, I’ll be forced to come in,” The bokor yells from the front of the house, his voice carrying considerable volume despite the rain. “My lesson to give is one you must learn.”
Thunder cracks and the house slams into darkness once more, the light cutting out. The fireplace and few remaining candles take up the chore of illuminating our surroundings. Grandma and Mom step forward and add their strength to our line. The house shudders, groans. The bokor and his men advance a step.
Miri peers from the scene outside to our gathered group and back. With a sigh, she steps into our joint power-line, pushing between me and Jeanna. Miri’s hand in mine is warm and electrified with inherent power waiting to be unleashed.
“The house is protected,” Grandma says. “They can’t come in here. We’re safe.”
“Yeah, but what about when we have to go home?” James asks.
“And what about my mom?” Luna adds.
The room chills and the smell of sulfur rises around us. At my side, Luna shivers. Across the room, Bastian’s hair stands on end and he hisses. Glares at us.
At my other side, Miri’s hand turns to ice within my hold. “If the man is not dealt with, he will continue to come at us,” she says. “He will come until we are undone.”
“What are you suggesting?” I resist the urge to drop her hand and warm my palm against my pant leg.
“Eleanora?” Grandma shifts and stares down our connected line to Miri. Miri shoots her a sideways glance. “You cannot have my granddaughter, Eleanora. She has denied you.”
Eleanora? What is going on here? I stare at my sister, then glance over my grandma, blink to my mom. Mom appears more confused than I feel. I think of Miri’s ice-cold hand in mine. Is Miri possessed? Possessed by the ancestor she told me was trying to take over her life a few years ago?
“She has let me in,” my sister says, talking of herself in the third person. “She understands that you need me and my power, if you want to stop the bokor from harassing you and destroying your Mirabelle.” She spares me a quick glance and I gasp.
“No.” Grandma stomps her cane, her response getting lost in another rumble of the house.
“Shall I come in and get you?” The bokor calls from outside. “Or should I simply allow Mrs. Flores to slit her throat?”
“The death would surely be a waste,” Miri yells back. “But, I’m rather comfortable here. We’re in the midst of a celebration. Why don’t you join us?”
Goosebumps explode, covering my arms, and I recall the bokor tossing Michael across the room, knocking him into the wall and unconscious, jumps to the front of my mind. The bokor is a monster, but this ancestor controlling my sister, what of her? What kind of evil does she bring?
“Get them,” the bokor hollers, and his men dash forward.
Miri’s grip on me tightens, turns to ice. Flashes of memories flicker through my mind and they are not of my choosing. It is as if Miri… or the ancestor possessing Miri… is flipping through the recesses of my mind. The flashes pause on an image of me and Luna on a bike, racing away from the bokor’s men, landing on my grandma’s front lawn.
The bokor’s henchmen pound on the front door.
James squeals in a bleeding-ear pitch.
The front door bursts open. The bokor stands at the threshold.
“I thought you said…” Mom yells.
“No one unwanted may enter,” Miri says, completing Mom’s sentence.
Everything topples in on itself. My vision folds, and the house vanishes.
I tumble, knees and elbow, into the mud. Rain pelts against my skin like thousands upon thousands of tiny pebbles.
“What happened?” Luna yells, pushing her sodden hair from her face.
Our entire group, including the bokor and his men, have been relocated. We’re no longer standing within the comfort of the family home, but rather, scattered amongst the graves of one of New Orleans’ cemeteries. Everyone has been pitched to the ground. Everyone except for Miri, who stands tall and steady in the center of our chaotic fall.
“How in all of creation did we get here?” Mom says, pushing to a stand.
“Borrowed the idea from Mirabelle,” my possessed sister says. “Thought I would bring the fight to a location where my power is at its strongest.
Strongest? I glance around the surrounding graves and recall the time Miri exploded a grave and hit me with the stone. It was here, in this cemetery, the day after the fire. Miri must have been drawn here by the ancestral power back then.
All these years, Miri has fought so hard against that pushy ancestor. I can’t allow that hag to now win control.
Grandma appears at my side. Grabs my hand. “We will fight her together,” she says and, with her free hand, grabs ahold of my mom.
The bokor rises to his feet and glares at me, then Luna. Turns his attention to Mrs. Flores. She still holds the knife in her hand, and at his slight nod, raises it to her collar bone. Presses it to her skin.
I grab Luna’s hand, hold her tight, hold her steady.
The steel draws blood.
The blade bends. Flops sideways like limp rubber.
Mrs. Flores drops the weapon. Then drops to her knees. Drops her head.
My gaze snaps to Miri. She’s glowing with unbridled pride in her magick. She melted the blade or turned it to utter slop. Something of that nature.
Only…
The bokor glares at me, clearly taking no note of Miri and her ability. It was his irritation with me that brought him to my grandma’s house, and it is his irritation with me that continues to hold his attention.
I shouldn’t have written the note.
He rushes forward, knocks me from my link with Grandma and Luna. Drops me to the ground. His thick hands encircle my neck and squeeze.
My throat closes and. I. Can’t. Breathe.
Grandma, Luna, Mom… It seems like everyone, except Miri, jumps on the bokor and tries to stop him. But in one firm burst of power, everyone is thrown clear. It’s a boom in my ear and a wave through my bones, leaving only me and the murderous man. I try to whisper the words, any words, that will push my spices… and magick… into action. But the words refus
e to come with my breath trapped and my throat closed.
My gaze searches out Miri. In a mess of mud and rain and bokor’s men struggling with family and friends, Miri remains untouched. It’s as if she stands unseen by everyone else.
She stares at me, a tight nod in her gesture and a mild smile on her lips. She takes one step forward. “Bokor, you have not lived well. Your choices disappoint. And so, I grant you many lives by which to learn and atone. Only this time, as a cat you shall dwell.”
The bokor’s grip on my neck loosens, and his eyes widen. With a start, he sits back and shudders, makes a strangled sound that doesn’t sound human. He grabs at his chest, scratches, then morphs into a cat.
His weight lifts from me and shifts, drops into the mud at my side… in the form of a cinnamon and brown cat. I push to my elbows but make no attempt to stand.
“What the…” James’s confusion rises over the rainfall and thunder, and he attempts to get to his feet, slips in the mud and falls to the ground. Jeanna offers her aid.
The brown and cinnamon cat yowls and backs up, swings his head back and forth, back and forth. If I were able to decipher a cat’s mood, I’d say the bokor now turned feline is deep in a well of bewilderment.
My gaze snaps to Miri. Miri, or the ancestor possessing Miri, turned the bokor into a cat. A cat! My heart hammers to a stop. Luna scrambles to my side. “Did you do that?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I couldn’t even breathe, much less speak, and there was some serious power in that spell.”
From somewhere at my back, Bastian leaps past Luna and me and attacks the newly formed bokor cat. Claws out and fangs wide, my sister’s black cat latches on and digs in. The two animals spin in a whirlwind of fur.
“What have you done?” one of the bokor’s men says.
“Change him back,” another commands.
Mom swings, punches one of the men in the face. He stumbles and grabs his jaw. The downpour intensifies.