Spells
A Bayou Magic Novel
Kristen Proby
Ampersand Publishing, Inc.
Contents
Title Page
A Note From The Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
About Serendipity
About the Author
Newsletter Sign Up
Also by Kristen Proby:
SPELLS
A BAYOU MAGIC NOVEL
BY
KRISTEN PROBY
SPELLS
A Bayou Magic Novel
Kristen Proby
Copyright © 2020 by Kristen Proby
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect are appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Cover Design: By Hang Le
Published by Ampersand Publishing, Inc.
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-63350-051-8
A Note From The Author
Dear Reader,
Writing the Bayou Magic trilogy has been one of the greatest pleasures of my career so far. I adore these three sisters and the men destined to be theirs. And, I can admit, that I’m enjoying the thriller aspect of these stories very much. Although I still absolutely love writing contemporary romance, and I don’t plan to stop that anytime soon, exploring paranormal romance is just downright fun.
In that spirit, what you’ll read here is darker than what you’d normally expect from me. As it should be, given that we’re talking about a serial killer, and a centuries-old battle. There are some edge of your seat moments, and you might find yourself wanting to cover your eyes. But hang in there, because Lucien and Millie’s love story is worth every word.
I hope this second installment lives up to your expectations. Be sure to keep the lights on as you sit back with a warm beverage and let me tell you a story…
Happy reading,
Kristen
Prologue
Millie
I don’t like these dreams. Sometimes they’re not scary, and I settle into a pleasant moment in them. But then my mind betrays me, and I’m suddenly fighting something horrible.
Something evil.
This time, it didn’t start nice at all. I jumped right into the middle of a war.
Where are my sisters? Why aren’t they with me?
“It’s no use,” I say to a woman I don’t recognize. “He’s too strong.”
“This happens every time,” she replies. How can she be so calm? Fire surrounds us, and something pulls at me. Trying to claim me. “You have to concentrate. You’ve been groomed for this over dozens of lifetimes.”
I shake my head, frantically searching for my sisters.
“Stop, a stór mo chroí.”
The male voice seems to come from inside my head. It’s calm and firm. A lifeline in the middle of all this chaos. This isn’t the evil.
It could be my salvation.
I turn and see Lucien. I don’t know how I know his name, but I’m certain he’s Lucien, and there he is, standing at least fifty yards away. He didn’t yell the word, so how did I hear him?
“Don’t be afraid,” Lucien says inside my head. “We’ll defeat the evil one, but not today. Not yet.”
“We have to!” I scream. “He’s going to destroy all of us!”
I’m weakening. I feel the evil pulling, the tug stronger as if it’s desperate now. Lucien starts to run toward me, but then he’s gone, and I can’t see him anymore.
Even the fire has disappeared.
It’s just me. And him.
The evil.
I sit up in bed, sweating, my chest heaving as I gasp for air.
Brielle thinks that I have these dreams now because I hit puberty, and it’s all because of hormones.
She’s my older sister. She probably knows about those things.
But deep down, we both know better. We’ve done enough research—away from the house so Mama doesn’t know—on our abilities to know that we’re special. The spirits we see, the things we know, they aren’t normal.
And our mama would kill us if we spoke of it in this house.
Just like she killed our daddy.
I lay back down and tug the covers up to my chin, trying to breathe normally so I can go back to sleep. Unfortunately, the spirits here know when the dreams happen, and they like to continue the torture while I’m awake.
Especially him. Daddy might be dead, but he’s not gone.
I risk a glance into the corner of my bedroom and see him standing there. For a long time after he died, I could read his thoughts.
I had to learn how to build up my defenses because the things he thinks about are worse than any nightmare I’ve ever had.
I don’t want to be alone. Brielle, Daphne, and I tried to talk Mama into letting us share just one bedroom, but she refused.
Mama likes to taunt us as badly as Daddy does.
We can’t escape it.
Walking through the old house in the bayou in the middle of the night is its own kind of torture for me, but being with Brielle makes it worth it.
I take a deep breath, toss back the covers, and hurry from my room. I slowly open the creaky door, cringing at the sound it makes and hoping with all my might that it doesn’t wake Mama.
I pause, listen, and reach out with my mind to see if she’s still in bed.
She is.
And spirits surround her.
I shiver as I raise my shields again and set out down the hallway. I have to flatten myself against the wall so I don’t run into one of the most aggressive ghosts we have in the house, and then I run as fast as I can down the long hallway to Brielle’s room.
I close the door behind me and climb into bed with her, surprised to find our baby sister, Daphne, already there.
“We all dreamed tonight,” Brielle murmurs softly as I join them. “Yours must have been bad to risk the house at night to get here.”
“So much fire,” Daphne whimpers. “Why is there always fire?”
“Because he’s the devil,” I reply and run my hand down her soft, red hair.
Suddenly, a door slams somewhere in the house.
“Oh, no,” Brielle says. “Mill—”
“Already looking.” I reach out again and feel everything in me go cold in terror. “Hide.”
Chapter One
Millie
Early mornings at the Witches Brew are my favorite time of day. I rarely sleep. Dreams have plagued me for my entire life, and as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to survive on less and less rest. Instead, I use the night to learn, the early morning to enjoy, and the day to work.
The sun isn’t up
yet, and I’m alone here in my café in the heart of the French Quarter, adding some new potions to the menu board.
I perfected a new protection brew last week that I feel confident giving to my customers, and I tweaked the love potion just a bit.
I can’t have any more men ordering that damn thing, taking a drink, and deciding I’m their soul mate. No matter how many times I tell them to wait and drink it after leaving the café, they never listen.
Men are horrible about that.
So, I had to weaken the spell a bit. Make it more of a lust potion.
Once I hang the board behind the counter, I walk to my newest addition to the space—my reading nook. I have two couches in deep purple velvet situated on opposite sides of a square coffee table—thanks to my sister Daphne’s antique shop. She says the table came from a couple so deeply in love that they died within minutes of each other so one wouldn’t have to know life without the other.
And Daphne would know. She’s psychometric. She sees the past when she touches objects.
I fluff the colorful pillows on the couches, wipe up a ring on a side table, and make a mental note to go across the street today to buy some fresh flowers to set in front of the window that overlooks the courtyard out back.
The New Orleans French Quarter is known for its hidden courtyards, tucked back behind the shops and businesses that line the streets. I’m lucky enough to have one here. When it’s not too hot outside, I open the door and offer tables and chairs for my customers to sit and enjoy the magnolia trees and the cobbled patio that connects the outside to Witches Brew.
This shop is my favorite place on Earth, and I baby it every day.
Once I have books back on their shelves , I grab a bag of garbage to take to the alley.
Brielle would yell at me for going out back by myself in the pitch-black dark, so before I step through the door, I reach out with my mind to make sure it’s safe.
No one’s lurking in the shadows.
Well, no one living, anyway. There are plenty of spirits everywhere. But I’ve had my shields in place against their minds for a long, long time.
I hurry out and swing the heavy trash into the dumpster and then turn to go inside before stopping short, my senses suddenly alive in awareness.
“Meow.”
I tilt my head to the side, trying to see better in the darkness. “Hi there. Excuse me.”
I open the door to my shop and am surprised when the cat walks in beside me.
In the light of the café, I can see that she’s a petite calico with one blue eye and one gold. She sits and wraps her long tail around her body, watching me patiently.
I already know who she is, but the eyes cement the knowledge.
“It seems I have a new familiar.” I squat next to her and smile. “And aren’t you beautiful?”
“Meow.”
“You’re welcome.” I scratch her ears. “You’re going to need some food, a litter box, and all kinds of fun things, aren’t you?”
She rubs her face against my hand and starts to purr.
“The most important thing you need is a name. Come on, you can help me get ready for the day, and we’ll talk about it.”
I walk to the dining room, the cat on my heels, and start wiping down tabletops. She jumps onto a chair and watches me.
“You have the cutest little patches of orange fur on your cheeks.” I watch her as I scrub the table. “It almost looks like you’re blushing.”
I laugh and lean over to kiss the top of her head. When I pull back, she looks like she’s smiling up at me.
This is a fun turn of events. I lost my last familiar, Luna, two years ago. And a witch doesn’t choose their familiar—it’s the other way around. So, I’d been waiting to see who might come into my life and when they would arrive.
“And here you are.” I sit next to her, prop my chin in my hand, and talk with her. “I’m Millie, but you already know that, don’t you?”
She blinks happily.
“And who are you?” My eyes keep going back to her cheeks. It really does look like she’s blushing. “You know, I always had rosy cheeks, too. My high school English teacher told me they were sanguine. And I always thought that was such a pretty word. What do you think?”
She purrs again and rubs her cheek against my hand when I reach out to pet her.
“It’s settled, then. Sanguine is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. You’ll stay with me at the shop today, but then you’ll have to go to the house. I don’t think the health inspector would be okay with me keeping a cat in a coffee shop. Don’t worry, though. I’ll sneak you in with me sometimes.”
I walk over to the door and flick the lock, then flip the sign to OPEN and turn on the rest of the lights.
Sanguine jumps up onto the counter just as the bell above the door dings, signaling an incoming patron.
“You’re not supposed to be up there,” I hiss at her.
“Ah, she found you.”
My head whips up at Lucien’s voice. The man has been a part of my life for a decade, thanks to the coven I found through my mentor, Miss Sophia. But I’ve seen his face for far longer than that.
Lucien has been a constant in my dreams since I was a small girl. Terrifying, horrible nightmares. And because of that, I’ve done my best to avoid the tall, sexy warlock as much as possible.
Although, I have to admit, he was a huge help last year when my sisters and I needed it the most. For that reason alone, I’ll always be grateful to Lucien.
“Good morning,” I say and instinctively reach out to pet Sanguine. “How do you know my cat?”
“I’ve seen her around,” he says and leans against the counter, grinning at us both. “She suits you.”
“I’m so glad you approve.” My voice is as dry as the Sahara, but Lucien doesn’t even blink. It’s his eyes that always get me. Ice blue and so full of wisdom, it takes a girl’s breath away.
At least, it takes mine away. Paired with messy brown hair that’s always a little overgrown, a square jawline, and hands with long, capable fingers, and Lucien is a sight to behold.
I’ve been drawn to him since the moment I met him.
Keeping my distance hasn’t been easy. It’s taken concentration, some spells, and a lot of willpower.
So I can’t help feeling salty when the man walks into my business.
“It’s awfully early for you to be out and about in the Quarter,” I say.
“I’m headed to the lab,” he says and grins when Sanguine walks right into his arms for some petting.
I’m jealous of my own familiar.
“And you want coffee?”
“Yes, please. Black is fine. And I want to talk with you.”
“I’ll pour, you talk.” I take a disposable cup off the stack next to my machine and pour the coffee.
“Millicent, things are starting to happen.”
Every damn time he says my full name, I get shivers down my spine.
“No need to be so formal,” I say with a wink, trying to keep it light. “Millie’s just fine. You’ve known me for a decade, Lucien.”
“I’ve known you a hell of a lot longer than that,” he replies. “Horace—”
“Is gone,” I interrupt. “We got rid of him a year ago, and things have been calm. There’s no need to discuss this.”
“Miss Sophia warned you that he wouldn’t be gone forever. And you know that’s true.”
“Nothing is happening.”
“Yes, it is, and I know it scares you.”
“I’m not afraid of anything, because nothing is happening.” But I feel my stomach tighten. In the few hours of sleep that I manage to get, I’ve been dreaming, and it’s filled me with dread.
“You’re not the only one who dreams,” he says, and my eyes find his again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Stop reading my mind. I didn’t give you permission to do that.”
&nbs
p; “Meow.”
“You’re new here,” I say, pointing to Sanguine. “You don’t get an opinion.”
“I can’t read you, and you know it,” Lucien replies. “And it’s damn frustrating.”
I sigh and pour Lucien another cup of coffee, then toss out the one he hasn’t even touched. I reach under the counter and pull up a small vial, dropping two drops into the brew.
“Are you poisoning me? Or giving me one of your famous love spells?” he asks.
“Neither.” I give the coffee a quick stir and pass it over. “It’s a protection potion. If you’re dreaming enough to come in here to talk to me about it, you need it.”
“I need more than this, Mill.”
I shake my head, not wanting to even consider that what he says is true. “Nothing’s happening.”
Lucien’s ice-blue eyes narrow as he sighs and takes a sip of his brew. “Red rose petals.”
“It adds a nice flavor, I think,” I reply. I’ve always enjoyed talking all things magic with Lucien. He’s so damn wise. So well-versed. And I know there’s so much more I could learn from him.
But I continue keeping my distance.
“When you decide you need me, you know where to find me.”
“In a lab.” Lucien is a warlock, a witch, but he also studies blood and consults with hospitals and police departments on many cases involving rare diseases and DNA. He’s a damn genius.
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