by Carolina Mac
“Nope. I’m a cowboy not a witch.”
“Say the reversal, sugar.” I encouraged Ardal. “Can’t hurt to test your inner strength.”
“I’m only trying this one time. I don’t want to feel like a loser if it doesn’t work.”
“Even if you have no magickal powers, you’ll never be a loser in my eyes,” I said. “You are my hero and you always will be.”
“Thanks, Gilly. I’ll give it a shot.”
Goddess of the house
Guardian of the key
Release the ward
And set the key free
So mote it be.
Ardal repeated the spell three times, then reached for the key. He picked it up with a huge grin on his face. “I did it. I’m a fuckin witch.”
I hugged him and kissed his neck and he wiggled out of my grasp. “Stop it, Gilly. Don’t kiss me, you’re my sister. I want to try the key in the door.”
Ardal used the key, turned the knob, and the old wooden door squeaked open. He led us into the pitch dark back hallway.
Hearing the creaking door open, a ghostly voice rose from the basement. “Who goes there? Friend or foe?”
Ardal used the light from his phone to read the name of the ghost from his notes. “Misty sent us, Mister Claiborne,” hollered Ardal. “We’re friends.”
“Don’t make so much noise,” George hollered. “A person has to sleep.”
“Sorry. We’ll be quiet.”
“I’ll be very quiet,” I said. “As soon as I find a bed.”
“Let’s get some sleep and we’ll make a plan in the morning,” said Rufin. “I’m so worried about Mama I might not be able to sleep, but the rest of you should.”
“Are you sure you shouldn’t call the police about your mother before we settle down for the night?”
“What good are the police if Mama’s been kidnapped by Virgile Gallant?”
“He’s too powerful for the police to catch him?” I asked.
“Something like that.” Rufin went silent and I didn’t care for the mood he was sinking into.
“How can you be sure it was this Virgile Gallant who took your mother?”
“Banjo said a circus wagon came and Gallant is the only one I know who has one.”
“Okay. Makes sense.” I tried to think of what I could do to make Rufin feel better, and nothing came to mind. His mood wouldn’t change until he rescued his mother and got her out of the clutches of Virgile Gallant. I wasn’t looking forward to meeting that guy.
CHAPTER TWO
Tuesday, November 2nd.
Nine Saint Gillian Street. New Orleans.
I woke to a loud ringing and thought I was dreaming. Where was I? Somewhere in a big bed all alone. The room was huge and filled with old furniture—antiques probably—but I couldn’t tell an antique from piece of old junk. The drapes covering the tall narrow windows were black velvet and thick. The heavy dense fabric didn’t let a scrap of sunlight into the room.
My cell was ringing, that’s what it was. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and mumbled a greeting.
“Did I wake you, Gillette?”
“No, I’m up.” I shoved the duvet off me and sat on the side of the bed shivering and craving a smoke. “Did Rufin call you, Misty?”
“No, I’m just checking to make sure y’all got to the house safely and were able to get in.”
“Yes, thanks. Ardal had the ward reversal written down and it worked perfectly.”
“Has Rufin talked to his mother?”
“She’s gone, Misty. Virgile Gallant took her before we got to her house.”
“Oh, no. He’s very powerful and extremely dangerous. I’m surprised he’s out of jail. I’d better come and help y’all.”
“Could you?”
“Let me make arrangements for Forest and for a flight and I’ll call back in an hour and let you know what time I’ll be arriving.”
“Rufin is beside himself with worry.”
“I know a few things about the wizard Virgile Gallant from a time in the past when he was enamored with my Mother.”
“Great. I’m glad you know who he is. I’ve never heard of the guy.”
Pete scrambled to his feet as I got out of bed and put some clothes on. “Come on, Petey. I’ll let you out.”
“Thanks, baby,” said Pete.
I was still getting used to Sonny talking to me in the dog’s growly voice.
“I don’t want Pete to have any accidents while I’m using his body. It would be too embarrassing.”
“I never asked you this before, Sonny, but did Pete consent to you inhabiting his doggie body?”
“Umm…he’s my dog so I figured it would be okay.”
“In other words, he wasn’t consulted ahead of time.”
“You could say that.”
“I am saying that. Come on, we’ll worry about your illegal possession later.”
“I don’t consider myself to be a body snatcher, babe.”
“Just treat Pete well. That’s all I can suggest. I’m going down to see if there is any more coffee in Misty’s cupboard.”
Pete scrambled out the door behind me and I wondered if in his doggie brain, Pete knew he was being possessed by a spirit. No way to find out the answer to that question.
The back door squeaked open when I let Pete into the yard and I winced hoping I didn’t wake up the ghost in the basement. I stood still and listened, heard nothing, and began my search of Misty’s fridge and pantry.
Intending to make a list of what we needed to survive for the next couple of days, I was surprised to find both the pantry and the fridge well stocked with staples.
How is that possible? Misty hasn’t lived here in months.
The next few minutes were spent figuring out the coffee maker. A little different than mine at home, but nothing I couldn’t master. Moonbeam had made coffee the night before and I should have watched her.
I sat and waited for the brew I craved, then poured my first cup as Rufin silently entered the kitchen looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. How could he? His mother had been kidnapped by a lunatic wizard. We had to find her and get her back home today.
I filled a mug for him and followed him outside. Without uttering a word to me, he lit up a smoke and stared up at the gray cloudy sky. Rain was on its way.
Sipping my coffee without making a sound, I watched Rufin, felt sad for him, and let him think.
Caw. Caw.
Banjo swooped down from the peak of the roof and landed gracefully on Rufin’s shoulder. Without turning his head, Rufin reached up and touched Banjo’s feathers. The big bird snuggled closer to Rufin’s neck and a tear escaped my eye and trickled down my cheek. At that moment, my heart ached for my witch-boy. I’d never seen him so distraught.
“I’ll go make breakfast.” I turned to go inside and Rufin called after me, “None for me, Gilly. I can’t eat.”
“Okay. Let me know when you need me.”
Rufin handed me his empty mug and threw his hands into the air. “I don’t know what to do, Gilly. We have no idea where Gallant took Mama and that’s the first thing we need to find out. Without a location, we can’t do a damned thing.”
“Can we try scrying? That worked for Magnolia when we couldn’t find her.”
“Misty is coming this morning and she’ll know what to do.” Rufin paced back and forth on the deck, Banjo on his shoulder then he followed me inside. Banjo flew to higher ground.
“Are you picking Misty up at the airport?” I crossed the kitchen intending to refill both our mugs.
“She’ll take a cab and be here as quick as she can.” Rufin sat down at the end of the long, black worktable and covered his face with his big hands.
He sat that way for a time while I searched out the pans I’d need to cook breakfast. Reaching for a copper-bottomed skillet hanging on the rack above the huge black stove, I jumped and nearly lost it when Banjo pecked at the window.
My heart pounded in my ch
est seeing the bird’s little black eyes peering through the glass—like something out of Poe. I pointed at the bird and Rufin ran outside.
Ardal crossed the kitchen at that moment, zeroing in on the coffee maker. “Is that like a trained crow, Gilly? It seems smart.”
“It does seem smart, and I think it can talk.” I heated up the pan and was about to crack some eggs when Moonbeam appeared in the doorway.
“I’ll cook, dear. You set the table and make the toast.”
“Thanks, Moon.” I went to the window and watched Banjo fly to Rufin and perch on his shoulder.
“I’ll Google talking crows,” said Ardal. “Can you pour me a coffee, Gilly?”
Rufin trudged towards the fish pond lighting up another smoke. “I’m about to lose my mind. What can we do?”
“I’ll get a murder together and we’ll search the city from the air,” said Banjo.
“Would you?”
“Of course.”
“What did the circus wagon look like?” asked Rufin.
“Yellow and green and blue. Bright colors. Two big horses pulling it.”
“Horses?”
“The huge ones with the big fluffy feet.”
“Clydesdales?”
“My knowledge of horses is not extensive,” said Banjo, “but I do know I want Mama back. “She gives me treats every day.”
Rufin smiled at his friend. “I want her back too.”
“I’ll gather the crows and I’ll be back as soon as I have news.”
Feeling slightly encouraged by the pending aerial search, Rufin headed back inside.
A cab pulled up in front of number nine Saint Gillian at eleven a.m. and Misty stepped out of the back seat, her long silvery hair blowing in the breeze she seemed to bring with her.
Pete ran down the flagstone path to greet her at the stubborn front gate. “Hello, Pete. I’ve been missing you.” She patted him on the head and produced a huge dog biscuit from the pocket of her jacket.
I ran down the walk to hug her, tripped over a loose piece of shale and nearly went ass over end into her.
“Must get that walk fixed,” she said. “I’ll do it while I’m here.” She raised her hand, mumbled a few words as she passed and the flagstones realigned themselves, fitting perfectly together.
Rufin’s large muscular body with face dark and worried filled the doorway. He stepped out, took Misty’s luggage from her and pulled her into a long hug.
They had known each other for much longer than I’d known Rufin, but that fact didn’t prevent me from being a little jealous. Rufin had never held me that way—like he never wanted to let me go.
“Did y’all mange breakfast?” Misty drawled.
“We did. I didn’t expect the fridge and pantry to be stocked,” I said. “I intended to do a grocery run.”
“Saved time to have it here.” She smiled.
How did she get food here when she was in Austin?
“I’m going to have a glass of wine while we talk,” said Misty. “Moonbeam, will you join me?”
Moonbeam smiled. “I’d be happy to, Misty. It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“When I left for Austin with Blaine, I truly believed I’d never be returning to this house again. It’s not my home anymore.”
“But you didn’t sell it?” I asked.
She let out a long sigh. “I’m thinking about it, but the decision is a difficult one. George is still here and when Daddy returns from Australia, I’m sure he’ll want to live here too.”
She’s keeping the house for two ghosts?
Taking a bottle from the wine cooler in the corner of the kitchen, Misty handed her selection and a corkscrew to Rufin. He did the honors and knew exactly where the wine glasses were.
Another pang of jealousy shot through my veins. The green snake of envy. I was such a pathetic mess. At least I knew I was. I wasn’t that stupid. Or was I? Mooning over a person who might never love me the way Farrell did. Rufin rarely demonstrated his feelings. Maybe thinking the two of us had a special friendship was all in my head. I should stop trying to replace Farrell. It wasn’t possible and I should face the truth.
“Wine, Gilly?” Rufin asked and jolted me out of my jealous stupor.
“No thanks. I’ll have a beer. I saw a couple cans of Miller in the fridge.”
Misty left the room after my remark. She turned and walked into the sunroom with her glass of wine in her hand. “Got a smoke, Ruf?” she called over her shoulder.
Not knowing what I’d said to upset Misty, I decided to skip the beer and finish cleaning up the kitchen.
My back was to the door when Misty and Rufin came in from the backyard, both laughing. She had worked some kind of magick on Rufin to shake him out of his depression and I sure didn’t want to know what it was.
“Gilly, we’re going over to Mama’s house to see if she left any clues. Misty thinks she can break the ward and get inside.”
“Sure. I’m ready when you are… if you want me to come.”
Rufin gave me a funny look. “Of course, I want you to come.”
Thirteen Laurel Street. Irish Channel District.
In broad daylight, Antoinette Pictou’s house had lost some of its nightmarish qualities, but the place still exuded waves of warning. Was I the only one who could see this place was a harbinger of creepiness? I shivered picturing rats, spiders and snakes living the life in the basement.
How did Rufin turn out so normal? Or was he? Did he present a normal false front to the world when inside he was a twisted magickal dark witch? I knew nothing about him except what he told me. Wasn’t much.
Standing next to a clump of bramble bushes at the front of the Pictou mansion, we watched Misty examine the ward protecting the house. Only she could see it and that puzzled me. Why couldn’t Rufin see it? He was supposed to be powerful. Things weren’t adding up.
Misty circled the house several times, waved us all around to the back and indicated she was ready to have a go at it. “The back of the house seems to be the weakest point.” She pointed down and all I could see was dirt. Misty was clearly looking at something I couldn’t see. “I’ll try from here.”
Rufin nodded in agreement.
Brown, dry and brittle, the waist high weeds flourishing in the backyard were prickly and I could feel a rash creeping up on me as I stood next to Ardal. Staring at memes on his phone, he seemed oblivious to what was going on. Maybe he was scared to look.
Misty raised her arms to the thunder clouds threatening above us and shouted out the reversal.
Goddess of the sun and moon
Dissolve the ward and do it soon
Send it back from whence it came
Break the ward and place no blame
Let us in to do no harm
Third time spell will be the charm
So mote it be.
Misty raised her wand and aimed it at the old house. The place creaked and groaned as the ward gave way and disintegrated. The back door flew open and several windows raised of their own accord.
The surprise on Ardal’s face was priceless. He’d never seen Misty in action.
“Well done, Misty,” said Rufin. “Thanks.” He headed inside through the open back door and the rest of us followed.
I inhaled a couple of quick breaths catching a glimpse of Rufin’s home. Compared to the interior of the Pictou mansion, Misty’s scary witch house looked homey enough for Ward and June.
Usually not a judgmental person, and without having the pleasure of meeting her, I pegged Rufin’s mother as a high caliber hoarder. The woman had a problem. Junk was piled and stacked everywhere I looked. The inside of the house was like a war zone of debris.
Antoinette’s work table in the middle of the large, cluttered kitchen was covered with rows and rows of little bottles topped with corks.
Misty pointed and said, “Poison.” She picked up a couple of the little red bottles and tucked them into her purse. Turning to Rufin, she said, “Show me your mother
’s room, Ruf. I want a couple of her personal things to get a location for her.”
“Sure. Come upstairs and we’ll find what you need. I’m so happy you were able to come help me with this, Misty. I was about to lose my mind.”
Not sure whether the rest of us should tramp upstairs, I opted to wait outside. Being in close proximity to a hundred bottles of freshly made poison made me nervous and a little twitchy.
Rufin had told me his mother was a benevolent witch, a healer who helped people, but being inside her house didn’t tell that story. Just the opposite. The feelings radiating from the house itself were enough to scare the bejesus out of me. If I stayed inside one more minute, I’d lose it and freak out.
We stepped out the back door into a sudden downpour. Thunder crashed overhead and made me squeal as I ran for the truck. Luckily, it wasn’t parked too far away, but we were all thoroughly soaked by the time we jumped in.
“I’m soaked,” hollered Ardal. “That rain is cold.”
Moonbeam giggled through a shiver. “That was fun.”
I hadn’t enjoyed it quite as much as my mother-in-law, but it was refreshing. My hair dripped in my face as I watched Misty run out the front door and bee-line it for the truck. She hopped in the back with Moonbeam. “Rufin is going to stay here for a while. He can’t believe what a mess the house is and he wants to clean it up.”
“Shouldn’t he look for his mother instead of cleaning the house?” I asked.
“He’s having a hard time with this,” said Misty. “Let’s give him some space. I want to go home and call the girls in my coven. Having them help us and combining their powers with ours will make it easier to find Antoinette.”
“You have a coven here in New Orleans?”
“I do. I keep in touch with my girls and they’ll be anxious to come and help us.”
“Are they cute girls?” asked Ardal from the back seat.
“Sure are, Ardal. Three adorable girls, Charlotte, Michele and Diana, who will want to kiss your adorable face the minute they meet you.”
Ardal chuckled. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
Nine Saint Gillian Street.
