by Shyla Colt
I pour amounts of herbs and a few stones into a manila steeper envelope to a bowl and move to the Keurig where I brew cup after cup of hot water. Jenny is slumped back against the couch, watching with tired eyes. I know you been through a lot, baby girl. It’s almost over now.
“It’s ready.”
“I have some moon-charged quartz crystals, will you grab them?” I ask, making a mental note to replenish the stock I’m depleting.
“Yes, and some of the lavender soap.”
“Jenny, can you take your boots off?”
She gives me a nod and bends over. I glance up and see a scowling Tante Odette in the doorway. “What are you doing?”
“Our job. You know, saving people.”
She clucks her tongue. “You have no authority to do this.”
“This is what we’ve always done. Healing, banishing. Witchy things.”
“Not in recent years.” She looks smug. I want to slap the expression off her face.
“Well, that’s a shame. It’s time we get back to the old ways,” I reply, keeping the inflection of anger out of my voice.
“You think you’re hot—”
“Now is not the time. If you’re so worried about it, call a meeting tomorrow. Right now, help me, or get out of my way.”
“You’re putting us in danger—”
“Have you forgotten who and what we are? Esçhetes help people in need. That’s how we chose to use our powers. We don’t hoard it and use it only for personal gain. Doing that will lead to the ancestors taking away more than they already have.” The words are a dagger aimed directly at her.
She sniffs, and I know I just made a direct hit. “This is not over.” She spins and stalks off.
How did she become so jaded? Doesn’t she realize she’s blocking her own blessings? It’s why she’s never had more success with magic.
“Sacha is going to help you outside, Jenny. I’ll be right behind you, okay?” I ask with a smile.
“Come on. Let’s get you into a nice warm bath with plenty of bath salts.” Sacha gently grasps her arm, helping her to rise.
“That sounds like heaven,” Jenny murmurs as they make their way out of the room.
I heft the bowl, and follow them, careful not to slosh water onto the floor. Once Jenny is standing in the center of the old clawfoot tub we keep in the corner of the courtyard, and the liquid has cooled, I slowly pour it over her.
“Okay, you can sit down now.”
She clutches the sides of the porcelain and lowers.
“I want you to scrub yourself with these crystals,” I instruct her. “They’re going to help get the negative residue out of your system.”
She nods in response, her eyes wide.
“We’re also going to wash your hair while you do that. We don’t want to leave anything left untouched.”
I dip the soap into the warm water, and together Sacha and I clean her long hair, working out tangles, and filling her with white light and positive energy. I watch in horror while the bathwater turns black as the negative energy is freed. She’s in a clean white muslin gown and feeling like a different person psychically after the bath. I have a large sachet of herbs.
“I want you to bathe with every night until the bag is finished, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank us yet. Now the hard part begins. We need to cleanse your space and close that open portal. You’re weakened from your battle, and I don’t want anything else creeping in.”
It’s midnight when we stumble to the car, weaving like drunks from exhaustion.
“That place was a freaking beacon. They had so many doorways opened, spirits were coming in and out like it was a hotel,” Sacha mumbles.
“I know.” I groan. “The worst part is I’m waking up to a family meeting tomorrow morning.”
“What the hell was up with your tante? I mean, yes, you’ve been a bit short staffed in recent years, so you’ve cut back on the gigs you take, but this was just mean-spirited.”
“I don’t know. But I sure as hell intend to find out and put her in her place.”
“That-a-girl,” Sach says.
Chapter Seven
I’m dressed for comfort not fashion as I walk up to Mémé’s front porch in a pair of black leggings and my black and white raglan baseball shirt with a black cat. I picked the Its Pumpkin Spice Bitches travel mug to send a message. The gloves are off, and I’m not here to play nice. There was a time when I’d sooner bite my own tongue off than curse in front of my elders. Today, I have zero chill left.
Things have changed since I’ve been gone, and not for the better. If Mémé expects me to take over, it’ll be on my terms. I knock on the door and take a sip of the coffee. The door opens, and I’m relieved to see my mother. I smile.
“Well life is more exciting with you around that’s for sure,” Mom says.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I step into her embrace. “Let me guess, Tante Odette is having the adult equivalent of a temper tantrum?”
“And then some. She’s got Vit and Aimee in on it, too.”
“I’m ready for her. I think this moment is a long time coming.”
My mom glances away. “We’ve let her live in her own world and run her mouth for far too long.”
I place my hand on her shoulder. “Mom, I know you’ve been short staffed. That’s my fault, not yours. We’re weaker when divided. Some of us have wandered off the path that made us who we are. I helped get us here, and I’m going to fix it.”
She nods her head, and I kiss her cheek. I’m over the guilt. I’m just determined. I follow her to the living room where everyone is gathered. Tante Odette, Vit, and Aime are gathered on one end with Fel and Aunt Jacinth beside them. My mother sits beside Mémé, and I remain standing.
“Why am I here on my day off?” I ask.
“Enough with this act. You know exactly why,” Tante Odette cries.
I lift an eyebrow. “No, but I can see you’re chomping at the bit to tell me. So the floor is yours.”
“Your rash behavior put us all in danger. You acted without thinking it through,” Odette snarls at me like a feral animal. Her features are twisted with disdain, and her eyes are black with anger. I’m shocked by the intensity. She’s always thought of herself as better than us. I’m used to having her look down her nose at me. Nit-picking and brow-beating where her M.O. The anger and ferocity are a new development.
Shoving my tongue into my cheek, I take a moment before I answer. “I know I’ve been gone a few years, but isn’t it our job to help people?”
“The right people with the right problems, yes,” Tante Odette replies.
I hold up a hand. “Wait. Who decides that?”
“We all do, together.”
I ignore her emphasis and narrow my gaze. “So, we’ve become a business? A committee who decides who lives and dies. Who’s worthy or not?”
“No, we need to protect ourselves. Weighing out the risks is the smart way to go about things,” Tante Odette says in a matter-of-fact manner that makes me want to scream.
“Right?” I nod and take a sip of my coffee. She smiles. “So, what are the parameters?”
“Excuse me?” Tante’s Odette’s smile drops away, and I mentally cheer.
“Well, what makes one person acceptable and another not? Power? Money? Things that shouldn’t matter when someone is in need? I don’t agree with what you’re saying, but we’ll go with it for now. If you lived by this last night, you were out of line.” I cross my arm and rest my elbow in my hand as I wait.
“What?” she sputters.
“We didn’t have to do anything. I took this on to myself. I knew I could do it, and she didn’t have time to wait around while we debate if we could risk helping her or not. I get that we had to change things
up when I left. It left us short and weakened our power. I own that. I apologize for the disruption my rash decision made. I can’t turn back time, but I’m here now, and we need to remember who we are and what we do.” I silently dare her to find fault in my logic.
“That’s not your place to decide.” Tante Odette points her long, bony finger at me.
“Oh, but it’s yours? That girl would’ve died if I hadn’t acted, and you couldn’t have cared less. I don’t know what that says about you as a person, let alone you as a witch. We’re servants of nature. Servant means we serve others, not our own interests. Maybe it’s time you remember that? Hmmm.” I take another draw on my coffee. Her nostrils flare. Oh, am I getting under your skin? Good.
Leaning forward, she places her palms on her thighs. “You always were a little brat. You never appreciated anything because magic has always came to you easily. Things are different now.”
I snicker and shake my head. “That right there has always been your problem. It’s always about you. Magic isn’t about personal gain. It’s why it never works for you the way it has for all the other women in this family. Look at you bragging about how things have changed, never seeing that’s a bad thing. Your way spells the death of an empire.” I spit out the last sentence.
“Oh, climb down off your high horse,” Vit barks.
“Enough,” Mémé says quietly.
“Tell her, Mama,” Odette preens.
Mémé clucks her tongue. “She’s right. We’ve gotten so far from who we are. It killed me every time I had to turn someone away. Hearing you right now makes me wonder where I went wrong. You’ve always been a little conceited, and small-minded. I figured you’d grow out of it somewhat. Instead, you spread that cancer to your children.”
Odette stands, mouth flapping open and closed like a fish out of water.
“Sit. Down,” Mémé commands. She plops back onto the couch. “The future rests with, Lou. Any changes she plans on making, we’re going to go along with it.”
“So, you’re naming her as your successor?” Odette spits.
“When I do that, I’ll be clear,” she says. A boom of thunder shakes the room. Odette jumps. “Unless you want to challenge me for the top spot.”
“What? No. I never said that.” Despite her backpedaling, there’s a dangerous glint in her dark gaze. My stomach clenches. I believe she’d try to take Mémé on if she thought she had a chance at winning.
Hackles rising, I step forward and will a flame to flicker in the palm of my left hand. “I dare you to try it,” I growl.
“Do they even know what you’ve done? How you consort with that unnatural beast of yours? You’re attached to him. What kind of witch would do that? When have vampires been viable for mates? How are you going to continue the lineage? You ever think about that girl?” She rises, her purple and gold dress twisting with the movement.
Despite the fact I’m angry at her, I can’t help but think, I actually like that dress. It looks comfy. Now, back to the matter at hand!
“No, because my worth isn’t tied into my reproductive system. I don’t need to bear fruit to lead. It takes a hell of a lot more than babies to be a good ruler. And yes, I’m connected to Cristobal. I couldn’t stop what happened any more than I could make the world stop turning. That places me in an unusual, yet powerful position. I want to bring the Esçhetes further into the twentieth century and return our focus on helping others. Sacha is branching out and doing jobs on her own. I think we should join her and create a new avenue of business. One where we’re hired on a case by case basis, and our actions are separate from those that are family related. When shit hits the fan, as it does inevitably, I’m making sure our magical asses will be covered.”
“You claim you want to bring back the old ways, and then disregard our traditions for vampire dick,” Odette spits.
I crack my neck. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
“Are we doing this, Tante Odette? Because once we start, I won’t back down until you concede.”
She gives a dry laugh. “Look at how quickly you prepare to defend him. What happened? Did you get a glimpse of your future? Is that why you high-tailed it out of here? Found out it doesn’t work like that, didn’t you? The princess has been knocked off her throne.” Tante Odette’s tongue is sharp, but I don’t value her opinion enough to be hurt.
“I can see you have a problem with me, Odette. Since you already started running your mouth, why you don’t finish getting it all out.” I take a sip of my coffee. The lights overhead flicker, and the tables rattle.
She pauses.
“Don’t stop now. We’re just getting to the good part.”
“I’m not afraid of you.”
Hail clicks against the window and bounces off the outer walls and roof. You were saying. She clamps her mouth shut. “You’re smarter than you look.” I turn my attention to the others looking on with expressions of shock and interest. “This is the time to speak up. Get whatever you need to say off your chest.”
“You’re bonded to a vampire. How could you be fit to lea—”
I cast a silencing spell on Tante Odette with a thought. “We need allies. Now we have one built in. I spent my life taking everything you had to give. I remember the snide comments, sneers, and hurtful actions, so I’m low on mercy. I suggest you mind your manners, and realize, the focus today is for the greater good. My days of walking on eggshells for you is over. You are one link in the chain, and we’re only as strong as our weakest point. I speak with the authority that’s been granted me. To question that is to question Mémé.”
If looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried. I release her from the spell.
“We don’t use our powers on one another,” Odette seethes.
I lean forward. “Trust me when I say, that was the lesser of evils.”
Her eyes widen. We have our own code. If you question or honor or offend, we can challenge one another to a witch’s duel.
She glances away, and I know I’ve driven my point home. “There are things stirring in the supernatural community. We’ve had peace so long, we’ve forgotten what war is like. I plan on making sure we’re on the winning side, aligned, and protected.”
Mémé nods her approval. “The universe gives us what we need, even if we can’t see it for what it is when it first occurs. The climate is changing. We must adapt to survive. If war breaks out, alone is a precarious place to find ourselves.”
“You know more than you’re saying,” my mother says.
“I have a feeling. Nothing concrete. I sense a coming darkness that will threaten our family. We need to be hyper-vigilant and prepared.”
An uneasy truce seems to fall over the room as murmurs rise. A family will always pull together to protect themselves from an outward threat. Too bad it won’t last. Not with Tante Odette on the warpath for something none of us can change. It’s a time bomb. Eventually, it’s going to explode.
***
I feel Cristobal the closer I get to my home. The thought of him waiting for me on the porch like a lovesick puppy would amuse me if I wasn’t so damn emotionally drained. A day of family bickering forced bonding, and mediation would sap anyone of their strength. He’s an image from a magazine lit by the golden peach tones of the sunset and surrounded by gifts.
The front steps leading up to the porch are covered in white pumpkins, hollowed out and filled with rich red dahlias, peonies, poppies, and greenery. The man must’ve bought out a small flower shop. It’s impossible to completely smoother the smile that creeps up on the corner of my lips. It’s a welcome vision after the day I’ve had.
I pull into the driveway, admiring the way the crisp white button-up drapes across his shoulders in contrast with the black slacks that hug him in all the right places.
The addition of black tennis shoes makes me giggle. My mo
od lifts. I always tried to steer him toward casual wear when it was just the two of us. I craved seeing the sides of him that no one else did. His attempt to fulfill my wish was with shoes. The collection was extensive when I left. I wonder if he continued the tradition. There’s no such thing as starting back at square one with him. The complexities of my life and relationships are like a maze. I step from the car with a wry smile.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, genuinely intrigued.
With a slight lift of his shoulder, he takes a step forward. “Is it not customary to bring gifts to one when they move into a new home?”
“You came out here because you wanted to give me housewarming gifts?” I frown.
“Among other things, yes.” He nods.
“That’s for friends. I don’t think we fit into the category.”
“I’m glad you agree that what we share far surpasses that moniker.” He adjusts the onyx cufflinks, and I laugh. Warm memories surge to the forefront. He always brought me blood red flowers. Red for the blood that flowed through my veins and sustained his life. Red for the passion that flowed between us. Red for the eternal love he swore to me. The damn in my mind strains under the effort of holding back my emotions. I can’t afford to waver. Not when he’s here looking good enough to eat with all of my favorite things.
Reaching up, I subconsciously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Damn feminine emotions. “You’re right. It’s even more inappropriate for ex-lovers.”
“Lovers on hiatus,” he counters smoothly as he pushes away from my porch railing.
Irritation plucks at the strings of my frayed nerves. “You’ve always had such a way with words, haven’t you?”
“Perhaps,” he speaks slowly enunciating every syllable like he’s tasting each word. “It’s simply a matter of speaking the truth. We’re working our way through a misunderstanding.” He climbs down another step.
“Betrayal. This isn’t a tomato, tamoto issue.” I refuse to let him lessen what happened with clever terminology. I cross my arms over my chest.
“No, but it is a difference of opinion and perspective. All we need is time.”