Spells: A Bayou Magic Novel

by Proby, Kristen

  “I wonder if…” She squats and starts running her hand along the wall. It’s just clapboard, not sheetrock. Suddenly, a piece of the wall gives way, revealing a hole. “I knew it.”

  “Holy shit.” I sit back, stunned.

  “I made this hiding place,” she says as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and turns on the flashlight, shining it into the darkness. “Ah, there it is. I can’t believe I remember this.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m seeing,” I admit. “We never had secrets from each other.”

  Is that hurt I hear in my voice? Maybe. It’s never been like Millie to keep something from me.

  “This wasn’t a secret from you,” she says as she pulls a wooden box out of the hole.

  “Is anything else in there?”

  “No, just this.” She turns off the flashlight and shoves her phone back into her pocket. She sits on the dusty floor beside me and blows dirt off the top of the box. There are two entwined hearts carved in the top. “I didn’t remember this until we came up here. This is so cool. Like something out of a movie.”

  “Our whole lives are like something out of a movie, Millicent. I’m dying to know what’s in that box.”

  “Okay, let’s see if I remember how to open this thing. You push here, and tug there, and…” The puzzle box opens, and Millie smiles at me in excitement.

  “What is it?”

  She takes some dried flowers off the top. “These flowers were in my hair when we got married in the park.”

  The crown of blooms is faded from time but still intact. When the time comes, I’ll revive them so she can use them again.

  She gingerly sets the flowers aside, careful not to break any of them, then reaches in for the next thing.

  “I wrote this letter,” she says as her eyes fill with tears. The envelope is yellowed with age and sealed with wax.

  “You should read it.”

  “Before I do, I need to clarify that when I stowed this all away, I didn’t know that we’d ever be here again.”

  “Of course, not. We’ve lived all over the world, and each rebirth was random in time. Sometimes, it was only a few years later. Others, a hundred years passed before we were born again.”

  “Exactly. So, I didn’t put these in the wall thinking that I’d find them again later. Everything in this box just meant the world to me, and I didn’t want them to be someone else’s.”

  “I understand, a stór mo chroí.”

  “Before I read the letter, look at this.” She pulls out a tiny pair of shoes from the box and gives me a watery smile. “Her shoes.”

  “So tiny.”

  She sets the footwear beside her flowers, then opens the seal on the envelope.

  “I’m nervous. I don’t remember what this says.” She unfolds the paper and clears her throat.

  “Dear Lucien,

  With your unexpected passing, I know that it won’t be long before my life will also be finished. At least, this time around. I know I’ll see you again soon, but the unknown of how long that might be leaves me with an unyielding ache in my chest. I long to hear your voice, to feel your strong arms around me, just once more.

  Our daughter has gone to live with your parents. She’s happy out on the farm with the animals and her very own puppy. They’ve promised me that they will teach her our ways and make sure she knows how very much we both love her.

  I’m spending these last days in our house, committing every moment here to memory with the hopes that those memories will follow me through to the next lifetime, wherever that may be. Each life with you is precious, a mhuirnín, but this one was extra-special. I was convinced that this would be the time we would grow old together, enjoy our children and grandchildren, and live a somewhat normal life.

  But that wasn’t meant to be. I know you’d tell me not to be angry. That there’s nothing we can do about the hand that fate dealt us.

  But I am angry, my darling. For you’ve been torn from me once again, and I’m left here to mourn you. My only solace is the knowledge that the pain won’t last for long.

  You are my heart. My beloved. And my soul being linked to yours is the greatest joy and honor.

  Because my time grows near, I don’t want these few possessions to be found by anyone else. They’re private, just between the two of us. I know I’ll never be back here, in this time and place, but it’s my hope that no one finds this hiding spot until the house is one day torn down. I’ve put a spell on this attic, ensuring that it will remain as it is for no less than one hundred years.

  I love you, my treasure.

  Millicent

  Tears fall down her cheeks as she folds the letter and lovingly returns it to the envelope. Suddenly, she gasps, and her eyes find mine.

  “Lucien, did I take my own life?”

  “No.” I pull her to me and kiss her cheek. “No, darlin’. Whenever one of us dies, the other does as well, not long after. A few months at most.”

  “I always thought dying of a broken heart was a cliché,” she says. “But after reading this letter, I know it’s not.”

  “No. It’s not.”

  She hugs me tightly and then presses a kiss to my chest.

  “Is there anything else in the box?” I ask.

  “Actually, yes.” She wipes her cheeks and reaches in to retrieve another item. She comes back with a red pouch. She opens it and shakes the contents into her palm. “Oh my goddess.”

  Two gold bands wink in the light. They’re strung on a piece of rope that’s tied in a bow.

  “Our wedding bands,” she says.

  “On the cord from our handfasting ceremony,” I add softly, feeling close to tears myself. What a treasure this is! I would have thought that anything we owned before, aside from this house, was long gone.

  “Lucien.” She licks her lips as she tugs the bow free and untangles the rings, which look as shiny as the day I bought them in the French Quarter a century ago. My heart pounds in my chest, as I already know what she’s thinking.

  I don’t need to be able to read her mind to know.

  She’s a part of me. We’re two halves of a whole.

  I know her as well as I know myself.

  I take her hands in mine and look deeply into her beautiful brown eyes.

  “Tell me.”

  “We don’t need a feast and a priestess to bind our souls together. We can perform the ritual ourselves, whenever we want. It’s our choice.”

  “I understand that. But I don’t want to push you, Millie. I’ve been ready for a decade, but I’m happy to wait for you to be ready, too.”

  She shakes her head and makes a fist around our rings. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Have you ever tasted blood? It’s warm and sticky and nice.”

  --Susan Atkins

  “Oh, it’s been a good day.” He grins into the face of his toy. The man cries and says something unintelligible, but that doesn’t upset him the way it usually would.

  No, nothing can kill his good mood today. Everything is going so nicely now. Just the way he’s wanted it to from the very beginning. His girls know he’s nearby. They’re getting the little gifts he’s left for them.

  Especially his headstrong Millicent. She’s always been a willful child, but after this punishment is over, she’ll understand that he’s doing this for her own good.

  Yes, he thinks to himself, it will be wonderful.

  Now that his plan is in full swing and everything is as it should be, he’s decided that now is the perfect time for him to play a little. To have an evening of enjoyment. He hasn’t taken the time to practice and relax in far too long.

  He can’t let himself forget what he’s already learned.

  No, that won’t do.

  So, tonight is for fun.

  “We’re going to have the time of our lives tonight, Lucien.” He claps his hands and turns to his toolbox, which he keeps on the opposite side of the room from the beds the toys lie on. “I thi
nk I’ll use this beauty today.”

  He pulls out a hacksaw, a drill, and a cauterizer.

  The toy keens in fear.

  “Now, don’t worry. I’m not going to take a hand or foot this time. We’ve already done that, and I don’t like to repeat myself. No, I need to work on something a little more intense.”

  He crosses back to the toy, who promptly soils himself, peeing all over his naked body.

  “Well, that’s messy, isn’t it?” He turns to the toy in the next bed. “You can clean that up later. Now, I have a new workbench! Did you see? It’s beautiful, and going to be so much easier, really. You’ll find this much more comfortable.”

  He jerks the toy from the bed over to the bench and manages to maneuver him onto his back.

  “We have to retie your ankles and hands,” he explains. “I apologize. I hate to do that on my bench, but I’m not quite as strong in this body as I once was. But don’t worry, it won’t take away from the enjoyment of it all.”

  The toy isn’t crying anymore. He’s just lying still, staring at the ceiling, his eyes empty of emotion.

  “Here we go, Lucien,” he says and flips on the saw, then buries it in the toy’s chest, right between the nipples.

  Screams fill the air.

  Blood runs like a river onto the floor.

  Ah, yes, disemboweling always was his favorite thing. He works quickly but efficiently. And he rejoices when the life doesn’t leave his toy’s eyes until after the last piece of innard is removed from the body.

  “I haven’t lost my touch,” he says with delight.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Millie

  I’ve never been surer or more ready for anything. Lucien and I are linked, have been for centuries, and it’s only right to cement our union here and now, in our home.

  I’ve changed into a simple white dress with cap sleeves, and a brown belt cinched at the waist. My hair is down around my shoulders, my makeup is minimal. But I feel beautiful and ready to be bound to the man I love.

  Lucien walks into the bedroom from the bathroom and stumbles to a halt. He’s fastening a button on his shirt, but his fingers still as he takes me in.

  “It never fails to leave me speechless.”

  “What?”

  “Your beauty. Your heart just shines through you. You’re radiant, Millicent. In this and every lifetime.”

  “You’re charming,” I reply and step to him so I can finish buttoning his shirt. “I think we should do this outside near the garden.”

  “I like that idea,” he says and kisses my nose before turning away to fetch something from the bathroom. He returns, holding my crown of flowers, but they’ve been restored to fresh blossoms as if they were just picked this morning. “I thought you’d like to wear this.”

  “Oh, they’re so lovely.” I smell one of the flowers before placing them on my head. “There. All ready.”

  We walk downstairs and out back to the beautiful gardens. It’s just past sunset, so the sky is deep purple, with the waxing moon our only witness.

  Later, once all of this is settled, we’ll have a formal ceremony with a priestess and a feast for all of our loved ones.

  But for now, this union, this promise is just between Lucien, me, and the deities.

  With a snap of his fingers, the lanterns around the garden’s edge ignite in soft flames.

  Lucien takes my hand and pulls our rope out of his pocket. It’s actually three cords in three different colors, woven together.

  “We chose gold for wisdom, red for passion, and purple for spiritual strength,” I murmur as I grip Lucien’s wrist, and he mine. “You wanted to add blue for fidelity, and I laughed because no other would ever turn my head.”

  He smiles and then stares down at me with so much love, my heart bursts with it as he begins the ritual.

  “As this knot is tied, so are our lives now bound. Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all our hopes, our Power, and the promise of our present life together.”

  He loops the rope around our hands, and I help him tie the knot, then repeat the words back to him.

  “As this knot is tied, so are our lives now bound. Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all our hopes, our Power, and the promise of our present life together.”

  Wind swirls around us as we tip our foreheads together and offer up a prayer of thanks, and then Lucien kisses me, sealing our promise and our connection.

  This moment is as beautiful and meaningful to me as any other that would include a hundred people. An owl hoots above as Lucien brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear, cups my face, and kisses me for all he’s worth, as if every time before this he held something back, and it’s finally being set free.

  “Follow me, wife,” he says with a smile and leads me into the house and up the stairs to our bedroom. He unties us long enough for us to undress, but then reties the knot once more. “We’ll stay connected all night.”

  “In more ways than one.”

  That makes him laugh as he snaps his fingers and the candles glow around us. But laughter soon turns to soft sighs as he slowly and methodically stirs my blood into a frenzy of hot need.

  He braces our tied hands above my head, and while murmuring sweet words of love and vows of forever, seals the sanctity of the covenant we’ve made to each other.

  I feel the Power moving through me, the intense strength of our vows and our union. The room’s energy intensifies with our Power, and then later, when we’re sated and calm, the vibrations calm with us.

  “I feel the shift in our Power,” I say as I drag my fingertips lazily up and down his arm. “It’s incredible.”

  “And will continue to grow. It’s important that we do what Miss Sophia said and practice.”

  “We will.” I snuggle against him, trying to get even closer. “But not tonight.”

  “No, a stór mo chroí, tonight is just for us.”

  * * *

  “Thank the goddess Café du Monde is open 24/7,” I say as we climb the steps of our front porch.

  “These are better eaten outside,” he says and leads me to the porch swing.

  We’d intended to keep the rope tied around our hands all night, but about an hour ago, I said I was craving beignets, so we pulled the cord through, making the knot, and got dressed to go get takeout.

  It’s 4:30 a.m., so we kept the rope tied for a good stretch of time.

  And who can say no to fresh beignets?

  Not this witch.

  We’re sitting side by side on the swing, listening to the cicadas as we munch on the still-hot treats, covered in so much powdered sugar, I’ll look like a ghost when we’re finished.

  I don’t care.

  “The sign says they’ve been open since 1862,” I say as I chew and then sip my frozen café au lait. “And if we were here after that year, I’m going to assume that I’m so addicted to these babies in this life because I gorged on them in the last one, as well.”

  He laughs and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “They were your favorite, absolutely. When you were pregnant, you asked me to go get them for you at least three times a week.”

  I glance his way in surprise. “Wow, that’s a lot of sugar. I bet I gained a hundred pounds.”

  “No, you didn’t. And if you had, who cares? You were pregnant and wanted a treat.”

  “Wow. Are you a robot? Because you’re pretty wonderful.”

  “I’m old,” he says with a shrug. “I’m an old man in a thirty-six-year-old’s body, Millicent. I always acted older than my age when I was a kid, and was teased for it, although I didn’t care. I’ve been through so many lifetimes that I learned how to be kind and patient.”

  “So, you got your asshole years out of you about eight-hundred years ago.”

  He laughs again and then nods. “Yeah, I guess so. My wild bachelor days when I was young and stupid were a long, long time ago. And, I love you. No matter what you look like, or what you eat, I love you. I alwa
ys have. So, eat your sweets. I don’t care.”

  “If I could find a way to clone and sell you, I could be richer than that dude who owns Amazon. You’re exactly the guy that every woman is looking for.”

  “Well, I’m also a little overprotective, I don’t always pick up after myself, and I once got a B in biology.”

  “No.” I clutch my chest as if I’m completely appalled. “Well, never mind then. No one wants someone who got a B in biology.”

  I lick my lips and stare down into the empty bag.

  “All gone?” he asks.

  “Yep. That’s okay.” I brush off my hands and scoot closer to Lucien. He reaches out and gently brushes some powdered sugar off my cheek.

  “You always were messy when it came to these.”

  “I mean, it comes with the territory,” I say. “Okay, let’s talk about something less fun.”

  His face sobers. “Okay. Is everything all right, darlin’?”

  “Well, it will be. If you let me redecorate the master bedroom. It’s just so boring in there, Lucien. It screams: I’M A MAN AND I DON’T CARE ABOUT LINENS. Do you care if I freshen it up a bit?”

  He’s laughing now, his fingers pressed to his eyes. “I thought you were going to tell me something horrible, what with everything that’s been going on lately.”

  “Maybe this is horrible. Maybe you love your plain comforter and mismatched furniture. Did you get that at yard sales, by the way? How does a man who drives such a sexy car have such horrible taste in home goods?”

  “I’m hardly home,” he says and wraps his arm around me to tug me tightly against him. “I don’t care where I sleep, as long as it’s warm and comfortable. I told you, this house is yours. Decorate it any way you like.”

  “I don’t want you to think that I’m coming in here and just changing everything. That’s not it at all.”

  “You need to make this your home, Millie.”

  “You know, I don’t think women would care about the B in biology, after all.”