Hoodoo You Want

by Kathy Love

  I managed a weak smile. “Just dreading the ball, I guess.”

  That wasn’t exactly untrue, although thoughts about the Samhain Ball hadn’t even popped into my head since the night in the alley. Two days had passed and there were no signs of my newly acquired magic. Not even a flash of the glowstick green. I was at the point that I wondered if the whole incident even happened.

  If it weren't for Jocko, I would honestly believe the whole event had been a dream. But he had seen the rougarou. In fact, he’d talked about little else—when he was not sleeping off yet another bender. Of course, his story had grown bigger and more embellished with each retelling. To hear the story now, he’d basically faced off with a rabid rougarou and won.

  In truth, he hadn’t even seen any of my magic, so maybe that part hadn’t happened. Maybe my memories of the event were no more real than his tall tales. Maybe the magic hadn’t even been my own. Maybe the magic had come from the rougarou. I did a bunch of research, and I found no indication that rougarous could make magic, but a lot of the information was vague and varied. I mean, could you really trust Wikipedia for your wolfman facts?

  But what also had me so distracted today was the fact that I kept having this strange sensation of being watched. It started the day after the alleyway incident. I hadn’t spotted anyone—or anything—but the feeling had been there off and on for the past two days.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell Violet about either of these things. All of it sounded way too nutty.

  “Seriously, sis, what’s going on?” Violet prodded, her purple eyes filled with worry.

  I was saved from having to answer by Iris arriving in a whirlwind of bouncing hair, swirling, colorful skirts and glittery costume jewelry. She collapsed onto a metal chair at our bistro table.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she said, pushing back her wild waves and then flashing her usual winsome smile. “I had lunch with some guy visiting here from California. Would you believe he was an octopus Shifter? I didn’t even know there was such a thing. But he turned out to be kind of a jerk. All hands—or arms, I guess.” She giggled at her own joke, then reached for the cafe au lait we already had waiting for her.

  She took a sip, then set down her cup. She looked back and forth between us. “Okay, what’s up? Why do you both look so serious? Did I miss something?”

  So much for being off the hook. I pulled in a deep breath and then just went for it. I mean maybe they would have some idea about what I experienced. I doubted it, but I guess it was worth a shot. “So, Sunday night—on my way to work—I discovered a badly wounded rougarou in an alleyway. And I healed him. With magic.”

  My admission was met by confused blinks.

  Finally, Violet nodded and smiled. “Wow. See, I told you your powers were just late developing.” She clearly didn’t believe me.

  Iris didn’t hide her disbelief whatsoever. “You healed a rougarou? But witches can’t do that. And why would a rougarou be in New Orleans? I’ve always heard they avoid the city like the plague.”

  “I know, but…” I couldn’t even come up with a plausible explanation. Aside from that, I was losing it. I couldn’t even show them I had any magic. “You know what? Maybe I just dreamed it. An anxiety dream caused by the impending ball. Or some sort of hallucination brought on by Mom’s cooking.”

  Iris laughed. “I can’t believe Mom hasn’t poisoned one of us yet.”

  I laughed, too, just wanting to move on to a different topic. Violet smiled, but I could tell she was still pondering what I’d shared.

  “So, where did you meet an octopus Shifter?” I asked. I’d happily listen to Iris’s bad date stories just to move on from my outlandish story.

  “At the aquarium, of course.” She made an impish “no duh” face. “I also have a date tomorrow night with a really hot vampire. Mom would die if she knew I was seeing a bloodsucker, but…”

  I knew once Iris started talking about her conquests, my silly story would be forgotten.

  I glanced at Violet. She still studied me. At least I hoped it would be forgotten.

  Their disbelief also made me decide not to share anything about my feeling of being watched. One crazy tale was enough for the day. I didn’t need to add any other concerns about my sanity.

  Just as I thought that, a chill crept down my spine. The same eerie feeling I’d had periodically over the past couple days. I glanced around the small courtyard and through the magnolia bushes that separated us from Royal Street’s sidewalk. I didn’t see anyone looking in our direction.

  People strolled by, chatting and carrying shopping bags. Across the street, there was a group of teenagers in similar baggy clothes and knit caps. They looked like typical skater kids, and they didn’t appear to be paying any attention to us. An older man sat in a doorway, playing a banjo and singing a blues song. Nothing unusual.

  Honestly, maybe I was losing it. I focused on my sisters and my beignets. Soon, the sensation faded. I guess seeing a real-life rougarou had shaken me more than I realized. Whether I healed him or not.

  The rest of our visit went by filled with lots of chatter and laughter, and by the time we started perusing the shops in the French Quarter, I was feeling a little more relaxed. At least more so than I had for the past couple days. I guess I just needed to let go of the alleyway incident, and accept I was the same old, craptastic witch I’d always been.

  “Oh, let’s go in here,” Iris said, pointing to a boutique with funky clothes and jewelry displayed in the storefront windows. “I bet we can find something really cool for the ball.”

  I hated to admit it, but even thinking about the Samhain Ball was more appealing than thinking about my rougarou encounter. That had to be some sort of miracle in itself.

  The shop was narrow and long and every available space was packed with unusual jewelry, hats, purses, and rows of very unique clothing lining all the walls.

  “Maybe I should wear this,” Iris said, pulling a brightly colored, silky jumpsuit with a halter top and flared pant legs from the rack. She held the garment up in front of herself. As wild as the outfit was, Iris could probably pull it off. “Baba Yaga would totally dig it.”

  Violet shook her head. “Too 70s. This is more her style, I think.” She held up a cotton candy pink, satin gown with puffy sleeves and lots of bows.

  “Definitely,” I agreed with a laugh. “That screams 80s prom.” Baba Yaga’s fashion sense had come to a screeching halt in 1986.

  Iris nodded. “Yep, that's the winner. And it’s freaking hideous. Put it back.”

  From behind the counter, the shop clerk frowned at us, which prompted us to suppress another round of giggles.

  “Hey, Mal, here’s your section.” Iris said, indicated a section of clothes in black and gray. I did have a goth streak, so I wandered over to take a look. There was a black latex, fetish wear number with a corseted top and a long, deeply split skirt. I showed my sisters with a devious smile. “What about this?”

  “Mom would have a heart attack,” Violet said, shaking her head.

  I chuckled. How our hippy-chick Green Witch mom could be such a prude about certain things was a mystery, but Violet was right. Mom wouldn’t be pleased if I showed up at the ball, looking like a dominatrix fresh from my bondage dungeon. It almost made me want to buy it. If I had to go to this awful ball, why not make a serious entrance?

  I kept looking, when a flashing sparkle caught my eye farther down the rack. I moved to where the garment hung, staring at it for a moment before reaching for the hanger. I pulled the dress out and held it away from me.

  The dress was a 20s style flapper gown, totally Great Gatsby. The material was a deep rose satin covered in crystals and seed beads—all rose gold. The material shimmered and sparkled in the light, seeming to mimic the magic I thought I’d created the other night.

  “That is gorgeous,” Iris exclaimed from beside me, snapping me out of my mesmerized gaze. “That would look perfect on you.”

  Violet joined us, her
eyes wide. “Oh, it really would.”

  “With your short dark hair and pale skin,” Iris sighed. “You’d be stunning.”

  I watched the crystals and beads glitter, dancing in front of my eyes. Even though this was so not my usual style, I hadn’t really needed my sisters’ encouragement. I’d known I’d buy it as soon as I took it from the rack.

  “I’m getting it.”

  My sisters again excitedly voiced their agreement.

  I smiled, heading toward the cash register. This should make the shop clerk feel less annoyed with us mocking the merchandise. I didn’t even look at the price tag, but I knew the dress wasn’t going to be cheap. What the heck. You were only forced to go to the Samhain Ball...every year.

  Just as I reached the pinched-mouth saleswoman and set the dress on the counter, a movement in the store window caught my attention. Four faces peered inside, and I recognized them immediately. It was the teens from the sidewalk near the cafe. I recognized their clothes, matching drab brown hoodies and brown beanies. Now that I could clearly see their faces, they all looked practically identical with small, dark eyes, chubby cheeks and pug noses.

  Without saying anything to the clerk or my sisters, I dashed toward the door. The teens saw me, their beady eyes widening in a way that would have comical, if they weren’t weird, creepy stalker children.

  But by the time I ran outside, the teens were already scurrying down the sidewalk, nearly plowing down other pedestrians as they made their bumbling getaway.

  “Hey,” I yelled after them, but they didn’t slow down or even look back. They practically knocked each other over as they rounded the corner and disappeared.

  “What happened?” Violet asked, both she and Iris joining me on the sidewalk. They stared in the same direction I was. Several of the other people on the street also glanced back to where the odd teens had disappeared.

  I guess I was going to have to reveal my other secret now. “I saw a group of teens, watching me through the window. I saw them at the cafe, too. And I’ve had the feeling I’m being followed for the past couple days. I think it must be them.”

  Both of my sisters looked down the sidewalk again. Violet looped an arm around me. “Okay, that is really disconcerting.”

  Iris nodded. “You’re staying at my place tonight.”

  I was relieved they believed me, but now that I’d seen my stalkers, I was more curious about who they were than actually scared of them. They didn’t exactly look intimidating.

  “I’ll be okay. Plus, I need to get back to Jocko,” I said.

  “Jocko is a butthead,” Iris stated.

  “And he will be absolutely fine in his aquarium for a night,” Violet added.

  I shook my head, still glancing down the street. “I can’t leave him alone. Besides, I think he’s actually growing on me.”

  My sisters exchanged an incredulous look.

  I glanced back down the street. Who were those kids? And why would they be watching me? That was the main reason I wanted to stay in my house. I planned to find out.

  Chapter Four

  “I really will be fine,” I told my sisters as they stood in the doorway of my small one-bedroom shotgun house. “I have an alarm system and I have to work tonight anyway. Plus, they are just teens. They ran as soon as I chased them.”

  “But aren’t you worried about why they are following you?” Violet asked.

  I was. A little. But I was more curious.

  “Hey Mally,” Jocko called from his aquarium in the corner of my living room. “Did you pick up some brewskis? I’m all out.”

  Violet made a face. “Are you sure you like that crawfish?”

  Iris wrinkled her nose, too. “He sounds like he should be in a dirty T-shirt, slumped in his Lazy-Boy with an empty beer can resting on his flabby gut.”

  I actually didn’t doubt he looked like the shellfish version of that image. “He really does grow on you.” Plus, he was my only witness to the rougarou. That was bonding in some strange way. Even if he did totally miss my quite impressive magic.

  “I don’t think you should be here alone,” Violet insisted.

  “They were just teens,” I said again.

  “Kids can be super creepy,” Iris stated.

  I couldn’t really argue that. But those kids weren’t creepy. They were goofy with their pugged noses and baggy clothes that made them look all roly-poly. I didn’t get the feeling they were dangerous in the least.

  I hoped to catch them following me again, because they had to be watching me on the behalf of someone else. And I wanted to know who. Admittedly, that someone else might be dangerous. But how threatening could they really be to send the goofy gang to tail me?

  “I work from eight to three tonight. I’ll have one of my coworkers walk or drive me home. Then I’ll lock the door, set my alarm, and I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

  Both of my sisters looked unconvinced. But they also knew me. I could be ridiculously stubborn.

  “Okay.” Violet sighed. “But you have to text me when you get to work and when you leave work and when you get home.”

  “I will,” I assured her with an indulgent smile.

  Iris opened her large boho bag and dug around. She pulled out a small glass bottle filled with herbs and spices and a black crystal that dangled from a braided cord. “This is a protection spell. That’s hematite.” She pointed to the crystal. “It’s very powerful and should keep you safe...but I’d still rather you stayed with one of us. We could give them a nice, little magical zap if they get too close to you. That would teach them to mess with our baby sister.”

  I smiled and accepted the bottle. I would rather have my own magic to protect me, but I appreciated their help. I slipped the protection charm over my head.

  “Text us,” Violet said again, pointing at me.

  “I will,” I promised.

  “Mally!” Jocko shouted. “Beer!”

  “We won’t tell a soul if you decide to add him to your next crawfish etouffee,” Iris said, her expression dead serious.

  I laughed, but we all knew harming a familiar—even a really annoying one—was a surefire way to end up in the witch pokey. I waved to them as they walked down the steps of my porch and headed toward their perspective homes.

  “Mally,” Jocko shouted angrily.

  I rolled my eyes and closed my door. I set my alarm, because I wasn’t totally stupid. “Chill out, Mudbug. I’ve got beer in the fridge.”

  I strolled over to the aquarium. Jocko was indeed sprawled on the leaf of a plastic plant like it was a recliner, a tiny Barbie doll mug clutched in his claw and balanced on the pale shell of his belly.

  “You are the best witch in the world,” he said, slurring his words and wagging his antennas.

  I chuckled and shook my head as I went to my bedroom to hang up my new dress. “You say that now, but you’ll be singing a whole different turn when I make you join A.A.”

  He clearly only processed the word singing, and began drunkenly belting out Born on the Bayou.

  I winced. Creedence Clearwater would be so unimpressed.

  “Mal, did you do something different with your hair?” Calista, the keyboardist for the house band at Secret Door, said as she took a seat at the bar. The band had finished their last set, and now it was time for a little refreshment and relaxation.

  I placed her usual drink, a dirty martini in front of her. “Nope, not even a different shampoo or conditioner.”

  She frowned, considering me. “Makeup?”

  I shook my head. I’d put on my old standbys before heading to work. Smoky eyes and classic red lipstick. I did love my goth pixie look.

  Calista’s multiple bracelets jangled as she took a sip of her martini, then shrugged. “Well, something’s different, and it looks good on you.”

  “Thanks.” Unfortunately, I didn’t feel different. I kept waiting for that magical groove to return, but nothing so far. However, a compliment was a compliment, and I’d take it.


  Nora, the band’s lead singer, took a seat next to Calista. I grabbed a bottle of Abita Amber Ale, popped open the top and set it in front of her.

  She smiled widely in thanks, running a hand through her wild, dark curls and then taking a long drink. “You are the best, Mally.” She turned on her bar stool and surveyed the room. It was after 1 AM, and the crowd was slowly dwindling. “Hey, did you noticed that weird guy over there?” She subtly nodded toward a tall bar table in the corner, where a large man sat alone.

  I hadn’t noticed him. The bar had been busy tonight. But now that I saw him, I felt a prickling of energy across my bare arms and down my spine.

  That was one sketchy-looking dude. He hunched over, his arms resting on the table. Bulky muscles stretched the material of his shirt, and he had a barrel chest. His bald head, square jaw and large, bulbous nose made him look like a caricature of an evil villain. But it was his eyes, unblinking and empty, that made me uneasy.

  “Yeah, I saw him,” Calista said, shifting to sneak a glance at the man. “Serious creepazoid.”

  How had I missed him? Sure, I’d been focused on the thirsty crowd, but this was not an easy person to miss. He exuded a blatant predator vibe.

  Just then he directed his dead stare toward us. Nora and Calista quickly turned back to face me.

  “He’s been here all night,” Nora said. “I didn’t see him move once all night. Not even a twitch.”

  “Maybe we should ask Beau to kick him out,” Calista suggested.

  Beau was our bouncer, a giant bear of a guy, who was actually a bear Shifter, not that Calista and Nora knew that. He never had trouble handling our rowdier customers. But even as big and strong as he was, I almost doubted Beau could handle this guy. The sleaze looked straight-up dangerous. And scary. I wondered if he was human. My gut said no.

  A terrible thought occurred to me. Was he the rougarou? If he was, why was he here? And better yet, why did I waste my one moment of magic on a freaky weirdo?