Serendipity: A Bayou Magic Novel

by Proby, Kristen

  “Well, I guess.” I purse my lips as if I’m torn. “I guess I do.”

  “Of course, you do. You know that everything I did was for you and your sisters. That it was to show you how much I love you. You believe that, right, Daphne?”

  Anger. So much rage fuels me now, but I can’t let it blind me from what we have to do.

  “Here,” Horace says and waves his hand. Suddenly, there’s a movie screen above his head, and he’s showing us little snippets of time. Starting from when we were children.

  “Look how lovely all three of you are, helping me in the garden.” His face is calm and happy as he watches three girls skipping around the yard. The images change. “And here you are, outside reading your books by the trees. Spending time with me.”

  We were not. We were reading, and when we noticed he was nearby, we fled inside.

  Because Horace was always creepy.

  “And here.” His face changes now into sinister lines as the image morphs to his lair in the bayou. So many women, tortured and terrorized. “Look at how I ended it for you. Look at the skill it took for me to make every single one of them so special. All of that blood, all of the tokens of love I saved for you.”

  “You’re an evil piece of shit.” My voice is as calm as his. At first, his face doesn’t register what I’m saying. “And we’re about to make you feel the kind of pain you inflicted on every one of those girls for all eternity.”

  “You little bitch!”

  Now! Jackson says, and we begin the last of the spell, speaking in unison.

  “With the power of the four elements in us

  Horace and his evil will no longer be

  Evil spirit be cast out of this plane

  Trapped for all time in our vessels of pain.

  As we will it, so mote it be.”

  We repeat the spell over and over again as we each take off our protection stones and hold them high in the air.

  Horace begins to break, to fragment and shatter into tiny pieces of black mist. And as we continue to chant, he’s sucked evenly into each of our stones until he’s completely trapped in our hands.

  The doorway closes, and we’re back in the chaos and the swirling wind.

  Millie waves her arms, stirring the wind at her will.

  “Let’s clean this up,” she says with a smile. Suddenly, the shadows, the last of Horace’s army, are sucked into the ground, and the portal is closed.

  Under the light of the glowing full moon, eclipse finished, we stand, gasping for breath, staring at each other in the silence.

  “We did it.” Jackson sweeps me into his arms, and then the six of us hold one another.

  “He’s gone,” Lucien says, relief and gratitude heavy in his voice. “Gods, we did it.”

  “They’re not gone,” Brielle says, pointing above us. “Not yet.”

  Jackson’s parents, our grandmother, and the soldiers who came to help smile down on us. With a wave, the gateway closes.

  “No one would ever believe it,” Jackson says. I take his hand and look into his eyes. “Hell, I don’t know if I believe it.”

  I pinch his arm.

  “Okay, I believe it.”

  Someone behind us starts to clap, and then it spreads throughout the silent crowd.

  We turn and see our friends, our loved ones, applauding with massive smiles on their faces, all of them looking so proud. So tired.

  And so completely wonderful.

  Mama steps forward and hugs us close.

  “I knew you could do it,” she says. “Blessed be, my beautiful girls.”

  “We have some cleansing to do,” Miss Sophia says, holding an old broom. “Our night isn’t over yet.”

  For several hours, we sweep and clean the area. Pour more salt. Burn sage, scatter herbs, and light cleansing fires.

  Until no more paranormal activity remains.

  “Are you going to ask me now?” I ask Jackson after we’ve finished and the circle is closed. “You said you would when all of this was said and done.”

  He laughs and pulls me against him, kisses me gently. “And I will. But not on a battlefield. Not on this battlefield, anyway.”

  “Killjoy.”

  He laughs again and spins me around. “I love you, Daphne.”

  * * *

  We came back to Millie and Lucien’s house to sleep for the night. Just the six of us. Everyone else went back to their homes, ready to sleep soundly in the knowledge that they are safe.

  “I felt it,” I say quietly. We’re gathered in the library, the way we’ve been doing for what seems like weeks now, eating breakfast and enjoying some coffee.

  Goddess, I need all the coffee I can get.

  And the best part is, there’s no potion in it this time.

  “What did you feel?” Brielle asks.

  “All night long, I felt the heaviness gone. It’s like a weight’s been lifted. I just feel, well, weightless, I guess. Carefree. I’ve never known what that feels like.”

  Lucien reaches over to pet Sanguine, who hasn’t left Millie’s side since we walked in the door very early this morning.

  “We did something last night that we’ve fought many lifetimes for,” Lucien says. He has to stop and swallow the lump in his throat. “I’ve never grown old with Millie. I’ve never known what the day after the fight looks like.”

  “It looks like six tired people stuffing beignets into their faces,” Cash says.

  “What do we do with those?” I ask, pointing to the box where we stored the stones that hold Horace. “They can’t stay together.”

  “I think each couple needs to take a vacation,” Millie says. “To very different parts of the world to dispose of him so the spell can never be undone, and he can’t escape. Those exact locations should never be shared outside of the person who handles the disposal.”

  I look immediately to Brielle, who hates to travel.

  The shadows always torment her.

  “I can do it,” she says, reading my mind. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “It’ll have to be a two-for,” Jackson says. “For example, Daphne and I will have to visit two places, far apart, and leave one stone in each place.”

  “Exactly,” Lucien says with a nod. “And I think the sooner we do it, the better.”

  “What will we do with all of the bloodstones and the photos he left?”

  “It’s already gone,” Cash says simply. “No need to ask questions.”

  I blink at him and sip my coffee. “Sometimes, you’re a scary man, Cassien.”

  My brother-in-law laughs and nods. “Sometimes, I guess I am.”

  “We’ve ignored our businesses for a few days.” I sip the last of my coffee and then smile when it magically refills itself. I look over at Millie. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She stretches in her chair and lazily props her feet in Lucien’s lap. “I think we’ve all earned the right to be lazy and not get up for more coffee. And, yes, we may have been neglecting our businesses these past few days, but they’ll be fine. Now that he’s not a factor, everything will be just fine.”

  “I’m staying here today,” I inform my sister. “I’m going to help you clean up from a house full of guests. Don’t argue with me. It’s happening.”

  “I’m not arguing,” Millie says.

  “I’m staying, too,” Brielle adds.

  “I’m going to go look in on Oliver and Miss Annabelle,” Jackson says beside me, “but I’ll be back to help.”

  We’re quiet for a long moment, and then I hear a baby crying upstairs.

  We exchange looks as the sound of a closing door also filters down.

  But it isn’t slammed this time.

  “Life continues,” Millie says softly. “I like that our house has a piece of the past still living in it. But more than that, I’m so damn grateful that we all get to live our lives and see what’s in store for us next.”

  “Amazing things,” I predict. “Many years of amazing things
.”

  * * *

  “I think that’s it.” I tap my hand against my thigh and take a good, hard look around my bedroom, just to make sure that everything I need is currently stowed in my suitcase.

  We’re about to leave in the morning on a week-long trip. Bora Bora will be the first stop, and then on to Australia.

  Millie and Lucien left this morning for Alaska. And then they’re going to spend a few days in Japan.

  Brielle and Cash are on a plane right now to Peru, and then they’ll spend some time in Ireland.

  The stones will never be in the same place, at the same time, ever again.

  “Is it weird that I miss them already?” I ask Jackson as he walks into the bedroom.

  “No, you’ve been attached at the hip for a long time.” He kisses my forehead. “Come here. I want to show you something.”

  “You haven’t packed yet,” I remind him as I follow him out of the bedroom. “Please don’t be one of those travelers who packs two hours before the flight leaves. That’s so annoying.”

  I stop short and feel my jaw drop.

  “Wow.”

  Jackson smiles and pulls a long-stemmed red rose out of a vase of at least two dozen more, and holds it out for me to take. I bury my nose in it and take a long, deep breath.

  “These are lovely. And you brought in food.”

  “I did. But before we eat…” He trails off, lowers to one knee, and pulls a ring out of the pocket of his jeans. “Daphne, you are the love of my life. My match in every way. You are the one meant for me. I want to build a long, happy life with you, sweets. I want some babies. Mostly, I just want to spend as much time as I possibly can with you, for as long as I’m on this Earth.”

  He licks his lips.

  “Will you marry me, Daph?”

  “Of course, I will.” I wipe away a tear as he slips the ring on my finger, and I gasp at the sweet memories that fill my mind. “Oh, they were so happy, Jack. She loved this ring so much. It was her grandmother’s. She was close to her and felt so proud to wear it. And now, I’m proud to wear it.”

  He stands, pulling me close. “Serendipity.”

  The word is whispered.

  “What is?”

  “Finding you, all those years ago. I wasn’t looking for you, but there you were. The most amazing woman I’d ever seen. All mine.”

  I kiss his chin. “All yours.”

  He lifts me and stalks off for the bedroom.

  “I thought we were going to eat!”

  “We will. Later.”

  Epilogue

  Miss Sophia

  “Are you ready?” I smile at my friend as she zips up her bag, ready to move to her new home just down the lane from me.

  Ruth has been the friend I didn’t know I needed over the past several months. A constant companion and a joy to have around.

  And I don’t have to say goodbye to her. She’ll be close, at the ready for a cup of tea or a glass of spiced wine.

  Since my sister died almost two decades ago, I didn’t think I’d ever feel connected to another person the way I felt connected to her.

  But I was wrong.

  And I’m grateful.

  “I’m ready. The girls are already down there. They said they had some surprises for me.”

  “I’m sure they have some lovely surprises,” I agree.

  Lovely surprises, indeed.

  We walk down the little dirt road that connects our homes. Ruth and I have enjoyed watching the progress on her little cottage, discussing colors and fabrics.

  Casting spells on charms to put in the walls when the workers finished for the day.

  Three cars are parked out front, and the six are sitting on the deep, wrap-around porch—the girls on the swing, in a chair, and the boys on the steps.

  “What a handsome bunch they make,” I say softly.

  “I’ve never seen anything so wonderful in my life,” Ruth says. “And the new house is good, too.”

  I smile at her, and we approach the others.

  “There you are,” Brielle says. “Welcome home, Mama.”

  “Oh, girls. All of you. It’s just so wonderful. So much more than I imagined.”

  “Let’s go inside and have a look,” Jackson suggests.

  They wanted us to stay away for the last phase of the build so we could see it when it was all finished.

  And when we walk inside, we both gasp with joy.

  Ruth cries.

  I simply smile, pleased and proud of these young people and everything they’ve accomplished together.

  The living space is full of color. A beautiful yellow velvet couch is the focal point with gem-toned pillows and throws and wood furniture. The kitchen is a dream, with plenty of counter space for Ruth to explore more of her hedgewitch affinity.

  I have no doubt she’ll plant gorgeous gardens, and children will play in the yard for generations to come, filling the little house with love.

  “Do you like it?” Daphne asks me after we’ve been given the grand tour.

  “Oh, darling, yes. It’s absolutely perfect. Your mother will be very happy here.”

  “She deserves it,” Millie says and hugs Ruth close.

  Lucien walks up next to me and takes my hand, squeezing it.

  He’s my great-grandfather, this young man. And, he’s my friend.

  I’ve grieved for those we lost, loved ones who didn’t have the opportunity to be here and to grow old.

  And I’ve rejoiced for the six who prevailed, and for the lifetimes they’re about to have.

  They are my family.

  “I’m going to make dinner for everyone,” Ruth announces. “A big dinner, here in my new home.”

  “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” I reply, joining in my friend’s excitement. “But first, I think there are a few announcements that need to be shared.”

  All three sisters look at me in surprise, and then at each other.

  “We’re all knocked up,” Brielle says with a laugh. “All three of us.”

  “Babies!” Ruth tears up and holds her daughter close. “My babies are having babies, Sophia.”

  “Yes.” I look into Lucien’s eyes and give him a wink. I see their lives. All of them. Along with their children’s and their children’s children. I know what’s to come.

  There will be battles ahead. But there will also be love.

  So much love.

  If you or someone you know is in crisis,

  call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (Lifeline) at 1-800-273-TALK (8255), or text the Crisis Text Line (text HELLO to 741741). Both services are free and available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. All calls are confidential.

  If you loved the Bayou Magic series, you will want to check out the next paranormal romance series coming from Kristen Proby, beginning in 2022! Here is the first look at Hallows End, the first of the Curse of the Blood Moon series!

  Hallows End

  Hallows End

  A Curse of the Blood Moon Novel

  by

  Kristen Proby

  Prologue

  September 1692

  ~Jonas~

  “They took Margaret Scott.”

  I look up into the sad eyes of my long-time friend, my coven sister, Louisa, and feel my heart sink with sadness.

  “They will execute them,” she continues, her voice full of frustration and urgency. “Jonas, we must do something.”

  “If we speak up, we expose the entire coven, and they will murder us all,” I reply and feel the candles around us building in strength, fueled by my anger. “We cannot risk hundreds of lives, Louisa.”

  “So the few shall die instead?” she insists. “Those women have been good to us, Jonas. They have not done anything wrong, and they are certainly not witches. Margaret has worked tirelessly to protect us, to conceal us from their unjust government.”

  “I know.” I stand and cross to Louisa, laying my hand on her shoulder. Her aura swirls in outrage.
“And I am eternally grateful to her. To all of them. Would you have me send our entire family to slaughter now? Because if I go forward and defend Margaret, that is what will transpire.”

  She shakes her head, tightening her lips in despair. “It is not right.”

  “No. It is not. Staying silent as they punish our allies is wrong. But I do not know what else to do.”

  She turns away and then looks back at me. “I have been dreaming again. I suspect that it will not matter in the end, regardless of whether we speak up now or not. I see fire. I hear screams. They will come for Hallows’ End, Jonas. It is only a matter of time. Did you see the blood on the moon this night?”

  The thought sends terror through me, and I know she’s right.

  I’ve had the same dreams.

  And I saw the blood on the moon.

  “Jonas, you know that what I say is true!”

  “I know.” My voice is rough with grief—with resignation. “You are right. It is time. Summon the others.”

  “We cannot undo it once the spell is cast,” she warns me.

  “The alternative is death,” I remind her. “Assemble in the town square in one hour. We will end this bloodshed and protect our own.”

  “Will I remember?” she asks. “When it is finished, and we are safe, will we know what we did?”

  “No. Only I will remember. It is as it should be.”

  “The burden is too great—”

  “Go,” I interrupt. “Make haste. Time runs out.”

  She pauses and hurries over to hug me close. “I’m sorry, brother.”

  “It is what is meant,” I say and pat her back. “Now, do as I ask, won’t you?”

  “Yes.” She wipes at a tear on her cheek. “Yes, I will make the preparations.”

  She hurries out of my small, modest house, and I return to my desk, opening the bottom drawer to retrieve my book of shadows.

  It’s time to cast the curse of the blood moon.