Tomorrow will be a busy day.
* * *
“Why’s it so slow?” Esme asks the following day.
“Because it’s Tuesday in the offseason,” I remind her. “But that’s okay because Gwyneth is coming in for a couple of hours this afternoon for training.”
“I love Gwyneth,” Esme says with a grin. “She’s so sweet and has a wonderful energy about her.”
“I agree. She’ll be great for the shop. Do you mind training her today while I go to the hospital with the others?”
“Do you really think I would say no to that when I know you’re about to go rescue your mother from demonic possession?”
I grin at my friend. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess not.”
The bell over the door rings, and in walks Lucien with his mother.
“Look who I found loitering outside,” he says.
“I was enjoying the sunshine and admiring your fun sign.” Gwyneth smiles. “The broomstick standing out of the coffee mug is so darn cute.”
“Thanks. And welcome. You’re going to work with Esme this afternoon, and I’ll be with you tomorrow morning, if that sounds good to you.”
“Honey, I’m just so happy to be here, it all sounds good to me. You go take care of your mama. Esme and I will be just fine right here.”
“Thank you.” Lucien takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
We walk outside, but rather than leading me to his car, Lucien points across the street.
“Do you mind if we check in on Dahlia? I texted her the other day and haven’t heard back.”
“Of course.”
We cross the street, and before we can open the door, Dahlia opens it herself and then jumps when she sees us. “Oh, hi, guys. You startled me.”
“Are you closing for the day?” I ask.
“Yeah, traffic’s slow, I’m caught up on orders, and I thought I’d take the rest of the day to run a couple of errands. My damn phone fell and busted. I have to replace it.”
“I was going to ask why I haven’t heard back from you,” Lucien says.
“That would be why. I’m a klutz. Sorry about that. But I should have a shiny new one later today. Did you need something specific?”
“I called to invite you out to Miss Sophia’s place with us yesterday. We thought it would be a good learning experience for you.”
“Well, damn it. Next time for sure.”
“We won’t keep you then,” I say. “Have a good day, Dahlia.”
“You guys, too!”
* * *
“I can’t let you in,” the security guard says. “The doctor has put a no-guest block on your mother’s chart.”
“I’d like to speak with the doctor,” I reply. My sisters, Cash, and Lucien are with me. “He knew I was coming today to check on her.”
“I’ll see if I can reach someone.” He picks up a phone. Less than five minutes later, the doctor is down at reception, a look of pure male stubbornness on his wrinkled face.
“I’m sorry, everyone. Miss Ruth is still very tired and not up for guests today.”
“I am going to see my mother today,” I reply. Cash pats my shoulder and steps forward, his badge out.
“Unless you want me to bring a whole slew of legal issues into your hospital, you’re going to let us up to see our family member. In her room. Alone. We have a right to be with her.”
The doctor’s nose flares in frustration, but finally, he nods at the security guard and walks away without another word. We’re cleared through the metal detector and led up to Mama’s floor.
I’ve never been in her room. She’s usually in the communal area when we come to visit. When we walk through the door of room 636, I have to take a moment to breathe so I don’t throw up.
“What in the actual fuck?” I ask.
There’s nothing in the room except for a bed. And Mama’s currently shackled to it, her hands and feet buckled into restraints.
“Who the fuck’r you?”
The voice isn’t Mama’s. It’s deep and hoarse, and the way she’s thrashing on the bed isn’t human. Her moans are guttural as if she’s snarling at us.
“We need to get this potion in her,” Brielle says and then swallows hard.
“Oh my goddess,” is all Daphne can say.
“Focus,” Lucien directs, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s begin the spell. Follow Millie and me. When we’re finished, I’ll get the potion in her mouth.”
We gather around the bed. Lucien opens the window at his back, and with our hands clasped and a quick circle cast, we begin the chant.
This only angers the beast more. It shrieks and jerks, almost violently enough to break the chains.
The wind swirls around us as we finish the spell, and Lucien takes the potion from his pocket and holds Mama’s mouth open as he pours the liquid inside.
The shrieking stops for just a split second, and then roars to life once more, as if the entity is in pain. Mama’s back arches off the bed, and a gray shadow pours from her open mouth. It flies through the room and then leaves out the open window.
Lucien slams the window shut, and the room settles. Mama’s lying still on the bed now, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
“Mama?” Brielle says, brushing the sweaty hair off our mother’s face. “Mama, are you there?”
“So sorry,” Mama whispers weakly. “Shouldn’t listen.”
“Who shouldn’t you listen to, Mama?” Daphne asks.
“Shouldn’t trust.”
“Mama, it’s okay now. It’s gone. And we cast one hell of a strong protection spell. You’re going to be so much better now. So much safer.”
“Not safe anywhere,” she murmurs and then falls to sleep.
“I’m going to get a nurse,” Brielle says and hurries out of the room. When she returns, she has two nurses in tow.
“She was possessed,” I inform them. “You don’t have to believe me.”
“Oh, honey, I believe you,” the older of the two insists. “When you’ve seen the things we have in this place, you know that literally anything is possible.”
“Thank you. We’ve cast out the spirit and put a protection spell around her. She should be able to recover now.”
“Can she have her furniture back?” Daphne asks.
“Of course. We’ll return everything as soon as she wakes up and we see that she’s back to herself.”
The younger of the nurses hasn’t said a word. Her fingers shake as she takes Mama’s temperature.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m new,” she replies. “Just out of school. Never seen anything like this before. Or most of the things around here.”
“She’s green,” the other nurse says. “It gets worse. And sometimes, it’s much better. Now, don’t you worry, we’re gonna take real good care of your mama. She’s in good hands.”
When we’re on our way out, Brielle stops in the middle of the hallway. She’s staring straight ahead, and her face goes white.
“What do you see?” Lucien asks her.
“There are always a lot of shadows here,” she whispers. “But this one is…different.”
“How?” I ask.
“I see him,” Daphne says, her hand on the wall.
I take Lucien’s hand and lower my shields. Standing there, at the end of the hallway, is our father.
“Damn it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lucien
“Why is he fucking with us again?” Millie asks as she paces around the parking lot. “We got rid of him years ago.”
“Who?” Brielle asks, looking completely confused. “It wasn’t a him at the end of the hallway.”
The sisters stare at each other.
“I saw a him,” Daphne says, “but I have a feeling it’s not the same him entity Millie saw.”
They’re outstanding to watch when the three of them are together. They have no idea how powerful th
ey are when united, and yet the vast differences in their gifts, and even in the way they look, is startling. From Millie’s fair curls to Daphne’s fire-red hair and Brielle’s dark waves, they couldn’t be more different.
But they’re linked in every way that matters.
“Dad was there,” Millie says.
“I didn’t see that.” Daphne shakes her head.
“Me either,” Brielle adds. “I saw a dead woman, covered in blood and trying to speak to me. Exactly the way they did before.”
“What did you see?” I ask Daphne.
She swallows hard. “Jackson’s father.”
“Oh, honey.” Millie wraps her arm around Daphne’s shoulders. I don’t know the whole story of what happened between Daphne and Jackson, but it must have had something to do with his dad if Horace used him to fuck with Daphne.
“He’s doing this on purpose,” I say, getting their attention. “Horace is trying to scare you, distract you. He’s taunting you.”
“Distract us,” Millie murmurs. “From what he’s doing? That doesn’t make sense. The sick asshole has been proud of what he’s doing.”
“No,” Cash says, speaking up for the first time. “He’s distracting you from each other and from your inherent Power. If you’re not concentrating on the task at hand, catching and destroying him, you can’t do that. He wants your attention diverted, distracted, and he’s using scare tactics to do it while simultaneously getting a thrill out of taunting you or punishing you. It’s all a mind game for him.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Daphne mutters and paces away in frustration. “How does he know what messes with us psychologically? How could he possibly know that seeing Jack’s dad would make my blood run cold? It’s not like I took an ad out in the paper and made it public knowledge.”
“He knows pretty much everything about you three,” I reply, thinking it over. “For most of your lives, he watched you from just outside the windows of your house. Then, he made it his business to follow you, to keep an eye on you every day. He’s been stalking you for years.”
“And why didn’t we feel it?” Brielle asks. “Yes, we have shields, but we’re psychic for the love of Moses. Why didn’t we feel that he was near?”
“Smoke and mirrors,” I reply. “Horace is excellent at smoke and mirrors.”
“Stop saying his name,” Millie murmurs, just as darkness descends on us. I can’t see the others. I can’t hear them.
I only hear maniacal laughter, as if he’s having the time of his life.
Or his death.
I begin to chant the spell I taught Millie a lifetime ago. She’s doing the same because I can suddenly hear her in my mind, feel her as if she’s standing next to me.
Halfway into the spell, Horace snarls, the darkness disappears, and we’re left standing in the parking lot as if nothing happened at all.
“I think we should all learn that spell,” Daphne says.
“I’m happy to teach you,” I reply with a smile.
* * *
Millie collapses on the couch in our living room with a huff and pets Sanguine, who walks circles on her witch’s lap.
“Okay, I think we need to talk,” Millie says.
“You’re exhausted,” I reply.
“Yeah. The psychic stuff drains me.” She shrugs a shoulder. “I’m fine. I’d like to know how he defeated us in previous lives. In other words, what have we already tried that failed? I don’t want to use that again.”
“That’s a good point,” I say and sit across from her. “He wasn’t always the cause of our deaths.”
“Oh,” she says in surprise. “I guess I just assumed he was. But now that I think about it, you were killed by witch hunters in Salem, not him.”
“Exactly,” I reply with a nod. “In some lifetimes, it was an illness or an accident. But I can write down the spells and weapons that didn’t work before.”
“That would help,” she replies. “I’m going to keep reading my grandmother’s grimoire. And Miss Sophia sent home a few other books for me to look at. I feel like that’s all I do. Read. And use Google translate because I don’t understand half of the languages, so that takes forever.”
“You sound defeated.”
“I’m not. I’m worried that I won’t learn enough in time because he’s escalating so quickly. I’m worried that I was too stubborn for too long and won’t have much time with you.”
“Stop that right now.” I sit next to her on the couch and pull her close. “We’re going to defeat him this time. I don’t know how I know, but I do. We still have resources to tap, and we’re moving forward. This is nowhere close to being done, Millicent. Don’t be discouraged. We’ll get there.”
She buries her face in my shoulder and takes a long, deep breath.
“Thanks. I needed that pep talk.”
“Anytime.”
“I could use a distraction from all of this,” she says and looks up at me. “I haven’t taken the time to really explore this big old house since I moved in. How about a tour?”
“Absolutely.” I take her hand and pull her off the couch. “Obviously, the kitchen and living areas are down here, along with the laundry, what used to be a music room, a library—”
“A library?” she asks. “I didn’t know about the library. Show me everything. Even the things I’ve already seen.”
I kiss her forehead and then lead her from the living room to the music room.
“It’s empty,” she says.
“A lot of the house is,” I reply. “But it can be filled however you like. This was a music room back in the day.”
“This is the perfect spot for a baby grand piano.” She goes to stand in the corner by the windows.
“Absolutely.” Yes, that’s where it was. And she played it beautifully. “Do you play?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “No lessons are available to a kid when her single mother is possessed by an evil spirit.”
“Good point.” I lead her to the library. “The last owner left all of the books in here, and they said the owner before them did the same. I think some of these were here when we were here last time.”
“Wow,” she says as she lovingly brushes her fingertips over the spines of the books in the cases. The room is two stories tall with volumes from floor to ceiling and a ladder on rails for fetching things high up. “Maybe we stashed something in here that could help us.”
“You know, you could be right,” I reply, thinking it over. “I’ll climb up later and do some digging.”
“Maybe I can rotate some of the less valuable books through the café in the reading nook for customers to read.”
“There’s plenty here,” I say. “That’s a good plan.”
She sighs and continues looking around, then nods. “Okay, what’s next?”
“Upstairs is our room, and four other empty bedrooms, all with adjoining baths.”
“Geez, Lucien, this house was ahead of its time when it was built.”
“Not all of the bedrooms had adjoining baths when it was built,” I reply as I lead her up the staircase. “Someone remodeled over the past thirty years or so and added them. It used to be six bedrooms and one bathroom upstairs.”
“Ah, so it’s been modernized.”
“Drastically. And it needed to be. A house this old needs new wiring and plumbing. I think someone once planned to turn it into a B&B but ran out of money and had to sell.”
“That makes sense,” she says as we pass our bedroom and start opening doors to the other rooms. “I love the hardwood. Is it original?”
“The downstairs is, but all of the floors up here have been replaced.”
She nods and looks into the bathroom, then a closet, before we move on to the next.
She stops before the closed door.
“What is it?” I ask.
“This was the nursery.” She looks up at me for confirmation. I nod. “Her name was Sabrina. She was born in the spring, and she had Daphne’s red hair
.”
“And her mother’s brown eyes.” I kiss the top of her head. “She was lovely.”
She opens the door and steps into the empty room. White curtains hang on the windows, and someone painted the walls mint green.
“I have a really, really weird question.”
“I’m ready.”
“Lucien, do we have grandchildren out there? Great-grandchildren? Descendants?”
“That’s not a weird question,” I reply with a sigh. “And the answer is, I don’t know. I haven’t looked because what would be the point? I don’t know what happened to Sabrina after we died. I don’t know if she had children. But if she did, they could still be living.”
“This is crazy,” Millie says and leans against the wall. “And sad.”
“Don’t be sad.” I kiss her lips gently. “Let’s keep going, shall we?”
“Okay.”
We look in on each bedroom and bathroom.
“That’s it.”
“There’s a door right here,” she says, already turning the knob.
“That’s just the attic.”
“Then it’s a must-see.” She flips on the light and leads me up the stairs to an open space that spans the entire house. “Whoa, it’s huge. And pretty empty, just like the rest of the house.”
“Lots of storage,” I say and watch as she roams around the dusty space.
“Probably some spiders up here.” She scrunches up her nose, then turns and examines the wall. “Wait a second. There’s something about this area over here.”
She wanders to the wall and stares at it.
“I don’t think there’s anything there.”
“I swear, there’s a hole, or a secret passageway or something.”
“If there was anything, I’m sure a previous owner found it when they remodeled.”
“It doesn’t look like this area has been touched,” she says. “I’m telling you, I remember something about this space.”
“Okay, let’s figure it out. I don’t remember there being anything out of the ordinary up here. You had some trunks stored up here full of old clothes, and some mementos. Baby things that Sabrina outgrew. Just the standard things that people put in attics.”
Spells: A Bayou Magic Novel Page 12
