by Debra Kristi
“Sisterhood unite.” Grandma extends her hand to me. I grasp it, firm. My coven and sister witches slip through the mud to reconnect.
“I need not for your help,” Miri says. “I am more than strong enough to handle these stragglers.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Grandma rebuts. “But neither do we require your assistance. It is time for you to release my granddaughter.”
“I shall do no such thing.” Miri crosses her arms.
Grandma breaks our line, releasing my hold, and steps forward. I stare at the intense showdown between Miri and my grandma. Several battles are being waged here in this sodden cemetery. None of which I care to lose. I shake my head and steel my nerves. I must make smart choices. Be decisive and wise about each and every move.
I jolt. Recall the gift stashed in my pocket. The beads collected and blessed for Miri. I yank the tiny box free, pop it open, and pull the beads into the palm of my hand. Their power thrums against my skin.
Bastian and the bokor cat hiss and yowl. Slam against one of the nearby crypts.
One of the henchmen grabs my grandma’s shoulder. “Turn Chuks back,” he demands.
My hand closes around the string of beads and my attention snaps to the assaulting man. “Rat, leave my grandmother be.”
Spices swirl free from my apron and race forward, spin around him. In a cyclone of dust, he ceases to be, and a rat races away from me.
The other men jolt, gasp.
“You’re stronger than I believed,” Miri says.
I glare at her but choose not to amuse her with a response. Instead, I grab the hands of my fellow coven members. “I called the man a rat, and he became one.” I glance between them. “Now, we do this together.” They all agree with a firm nod.
With their gazes tight on me, the men back away, in slow, unsteady steps. But should they be allowed to leave? Would they return with reinforcements? I can’t take that chance. Luna’s family, my family, need to be protected.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” I say to the three remaining bokor’s men. They turn and sprint toward the main gate. I squeeze the hands on either side of me and begin to chant.
“Men like rats, take your true shape, and scurry away in fearful escape.” I say the sentence once, and my friends join me for a second and third rendition. Luna, James, Jeanna, and I speak in unison. Spices swirl from my apron and from the ground where they previously landed. The particles floating in the air and following the men. The air sparks with electrical charge.
The men run, run hard, attempting to clear the cemetery. But they cannot out race the magick. Men dash from our sight, turn to rats, disappearing amongst the cement gravestones.
Luna jets across the distance and wraps her support around her mom. James and Jeanna jump into a hug.
The bokor and his men are a threat no more. Now, to get my sister back in control of her own body.
Chapter Thirty-One
“You cannot force me out,” the ancestor within Miri says, and with a mere forward thrust, shoves both my mom and grandma away. They stumble and lose their balance. My mom hits the ground. I race forward and grab my grandma’s elbow, slide in the mud, manage to hold her upright.
“I know what to do,” I whisper and open my palm, revealing the beads blessed for Miri. “Each one has been blessed for Miri, her marriage to Phillip, and the baby in her belly. At least one of those things has to reach her, cause her to fight against the ancestor’s control.”
“Worth a try,” Grandma replies. “The power of your blessed magick and the combined strength of family.”
“Nothing outweighs the vitality of love and family,” my mom says, stepping to our side.
I stare at her and think about all the time lost when she was under Caleb’s thumb. If her love for family had been strong enough, then by her reasoning, shouldn’t she have been able to avoid Caleb’s cursed control?
My lips pucker and twist, and my gaze shifts to Miri. She’s walking away. Without a word, she’s leaving us in the muddy, wet, cemetery.
“Miri,” I call after her.
She stops, turns back, and I move to meet her. Grandma and Mom keep pace at my side.
“You are family,” I say. “Whether you’re my sister or this Elean person.”
“Eleanora.” She crosses her arms. “What’s your point.”
“There’s strength in our family. Blood is blood, and with our blood comes love.”
Her shoulders soften, droop a smidgen.
“So, if you are to remain with us…” I continue to move closer. “Will you be following through with your nuptials in two days?”
Her brow presses and eyes narrow.
“Because, if you do, I have a special gift I created just for you.” I step up to her and take her hand. She is reluctant and tugs back a fraction, before allowing me to uncurl her hand.
I drop my palm over hers, the blessed beads between us, pressed to our skin. Grandma and Mom clasp their hold over mine and Miri’s. The string of beads between our hold warms, begin to burn.
“What are you doing?” She attempts to pull away, but the three of us hold her steady.
“It is neither time nor force that brings you strength,” Grandma says to Miri. “So much as heart. My dear granddaughter, you have far more heart than our ancestor Eleanora.”
Miri shakes her head, leans away. “Stop,” she says with a hint of a growl.
“Please Miri, fight her,” Mom pleads. “Don’t let her succeed where Caleb failed. You are better than that.”
Miri erupts with wicked laughter. “I see through you, Edith,” the ancestor says. “You brought the destruction of Caleb into Miri’s life after you successfully ripped her father out.”
“What?” My gaze snaps to my mom. “What is she talking about?”
Grandma’s gaze flickers to the ground, hinting she knows exactly what is being insinuated.
“You know what?” I shake my head. “Later.” I tighten my hold on Miri and the beads. Their warmth radiates through my skin and tingles along my muscles, my veins. “I know you are in there, sister. I need you to fight, for me, for you, for Phillip, and the baby.” Miri blinks and for a moment, I recognize the individual behind her eyes.
Miri’s face pales and her lower lip trembles. “She’s too strong.”
“Then we shall bear the burden with you,” Grandma says. “The three of us, blood…”
“Four,” Mom corrects.
Miri laughs. “You are not of my blood. Your power is meaningless here.”
“Four.” I straighten my shoulders and raise my head.
Miri’s face pinches and her expression falters.
“Together, the four of us will take a portion of Eleanora’s essence, leaving less of a weight on Miri or any of us, for that matter. And divided, Eleanora’s power will be compromised, manageable, extractable. Together, the four of us shall kick her out.”
“Seven of us,” Luna says. Luna, James, and Jeanna lay their hands on our backs, adding their strength and power to that of my family’s.
“No.” Miri wiggles, tries to break free.
Magickal energy swells around us, thickening, widening, intensifying. Our will sparks and stabs, pulls portions of my ancestor’s influence free from my sister. Eleanora is fractured, torn into pieces, and I eagerly drag my portion of history within myself, then push it through my crown, into the cold world beyond.
Spices dance in the air around us, collecting against the remnants of my ancestor’s soul. Targeting and stifling her power. Miri screams. The rest of us huff and grunt and expel. The night sky alites with the purple hue of the ancestor’s escaping energy.
Miri collapses. Bastian jumps into the circle and sucks away any lingering influences.
“Good kitty.” I rub his head, then, taking note of the bokor’s cell phone discarded nearby, pick it up and call my brother’s new phone. “Can you make some excuse,” I ask. “And come and get us at the cemetery?”
It’s suggested
that I return our group back to Grandma’s house the same way I transported us to the graveyard. Only, it was the ancestor’s magick that relocated us. My memories merely provided the suggestion. I don’t yet understand how to manipulate time and space in that manner. The time with me and Luna on the bike, that was a total fluke, and I don’t know how to create a repeat.
Miri is out cold. Grandma and Mom are ashen and weak after the expulsion of Eleanora. And the rain has yet to let up. Feeble thunder followed by streaks of light occasionally cracks across the night sky. Not to mention, it’s cold. Damn cold. Walking back from the St. Louis cemetery is out of the question.
We make our way out the northern side of the graveyard and find partial shelter beneath one of the large trees lining the street. It feels like hours, wet, cold, and shivering, waiting for Michael. It’s likely more like forty minutes or something.
Grandma and Mom squeeze into the front seat beside my brother. It’s a tight fit. But so is the back seat, with my coven, myself, and Luna’s mom fitting five into a three-person spacing. The five of us cradle Miri in our laps. By the time we arrive home, she begins to stir.
“Worst bridal-shower-slash-bachelorette-party ever.” She crawls from the back seat and rubs her head. “Let’s never talk of this again.” She climbs the steps to the house. Luna and her mom, James and Jeanna follow her inside.
Michael and I help Grandma and Mom up the stairs and through the door.
Miri waits for us just inside the door, holding Phillip’s unopened letter to her chest. “I hope you don’t think me a party pooper, but I am going to head upstairs, enjoy a hot shower, and indulge in some positive, uplifting words.” She taps the letter to her heart.
“Of course. You do what you need to do,” I say.
“Come here.” She motions everyone into a circle around her and squeezes us into a group hug. “Thank you, all of you, for standing up against the ancestral power and pulling me back to myself. That’s a gift that goes far beyond…” She sighs. “It will remain with me always.”
Hugs and kisses, encouraging whispers, and Miri leaves the group. Michael and I help Grandma to her room and then stand with Luna at the large picture window, staring out at the street, while we wait for Mom and Mrs. Flores to freshen up for the drive home.
Jeanna, James, Luna, and I are wrapped in oversized towels, dabbing and rubbing at our wet clothing.
On the street beyond, the rain dwindles to a drizzle and the street lights cast a lovely glow across the damp asphalt.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” James mumbles about the bokor. “Wonder what this means for my brother?”
“He’ll be better for the change,” Michael says, and I nod. We’ll all be better for the change… as long as somebody worse doesn’t take Chuks's place.
“And my parents,” Luna says. Glances toward the back bathroom. “My mom is so much better. The change was practically instantaneous.”
“Some spells work that way when broken.” Michael nods at the quiet world outside the family home. Sighs. “In a little over thirty-six hours, we’ll be reconvening for Miri and Phillip’s wedding. They only get one take on the run of that day. I suggest you take this evening to let this new reality sink in, and then turn your focus toward making their day nothing but positive vibes for a blessed future.
“Of course.” The agreement is a chorus of responses from everyone, me, Luna, Jeanna, and James.
When Mom and Mrs. Flores reappear, slightly dryer, Michael drives Luna and her mom home, and James, Jeanna, and I pile in the car with my mom, head back to Algiers. Sleep a lot.
The next day gets lost to laziness and wedding preparations. Come Saturday morning, the sky is clear, the moon is full, and the energy is clean, buzzing. The change in weather allows for the wedding to take place in the courtyard, rather than the cramped front room. Outdoor heaters line the space and chairs are set in crisp lines, facing the large water fountain. Grandma has been exceptionally weak since the events of the bridal shower, so Michael ushers her to an early seat at the front. She sits across the aisle from Phillip’s dad, Miri’s soon-to-be father-in-law, Mr. Tillman. He glances, ever-slightly, in her direction.
The few guests that were invited have all arrived and now wait patiently for the bride to walk down the aisle. Mom, Michael, Miri, Luna, and I are stationed near the back door, awaiting our cue.
“You look stunning,” Luna whispers at my ear and delivers a soft, somewhat timid kiss.
“No one will be able to look at anything but you,” Mom says to Miri while fussing over my sister’s hair.
“I will,” Luna says softly. “I’ll be looking at you.”
“And I you,” I reply.
“Phillip’s breath is bound to be knocked clear from his chest,” Mom continues, stepping back to admire her work. “Pure perfection.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Miri says.
Mom kisses Miri’s cheek. “See you out there.” She rushes to take her front row seat.
“Guess that’s my cue,” Luna adds and follows my mom to the collection of arranged chairs.
“This is it,” I say. “Last chance to back out of the whole thing.”
“Not going to happen.” Miri smiles, and when she does, her entire essence glows. “There is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with Phillip. And this day…” She glances toward the ceiling as if she could see through the layers of wood, brick, and mortar. “It’s like the sunshine after the battle. A sign for a bright future. What more could I ask for?”
“A million dollars?” I say and shrug.
“What is a million dollars compared to a family that would put their lives on the line to save mine?” She grabs my hand and squeezes. The blessed beads I gifted her, used to help save her, are wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet. Beads dangle and clang against one another.
“You’re right, of course,” I say. “You’re rich in ways others could only wish for… dream about.”
“You bet I am.” She hugs me. Then twists and hugs Michael. “Thank you so much, both of you, for being here for me, and baby Nara…” Miri rubs her belly. “It means the world to me. To us. Some day, this home will be ours.” She motions to the house around us. “And Phillip and I will raise our family here. Two kids and the man I love. It will be blissfully perfect.”
In the yard beyond, the music begins to play.
“The moment has arrived. You ready?” Michael asks of Miri.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
I adjust her dress and veil and then grab my bouquet. “Me first.” I step out the door, walk down the aisle, toward the fountain. At the end of my walk awaits a priest. To his right, Phillip and his best man. Luna sits in the front row, beside Grandma and Mom. She beams at me, and I can’t help but smile back. I even wave. When I reach the end of the walk, I step to the left, and turn to face the house.
Michael steps through the door, his arm linked with Miri’s. The music morphs into the Bridal Chorus, and Miri slowly approaches. Everyone stands, turns to take in the vision that is my sister. My brother brims with pride, but he’s lost against the magnetic pull that is the bride. Miri is a goddess in white, and her smile couldn’t be more genuine. Her glow, more extraordinary. Just as Phillip’s grin couldn’t be wider. Their love for one another lifts the energy, and everyone present, to new heights.
I am excited for the future that awaits my family. I spare Luna a glance. And I pray she is a part of that future, my future. I think of her lips upon mine and I sense, sense that she is my future. I’m eager for that future. A life built with Luna beside me.
I’m also eager to meet the newest member, a mini Miri named Nara. She’ll have the world at her fingertips, growing up in a caring home, with loving parents, and in a family infused with ancient power. Not to mention, a fabulous uncle and two awesome aunts.
A world free of Caleb or Chuks the bokor. A world where my family can hopefully live and grow in peace. Possibly, some day, with a heap of acceptabilit
y.
I can hope.
But one thing is for sure, Nara will not be raised ignorant of her truth, as Miri and I were. She’ll be empowered with knowledge. We’ll all see to that.
The End.
Continue following the adventures of the family in Nowhere Nara.
Gifted Girls Book Three
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From The Author
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed reading Bewitching Belle. This particular story came to life with inspiration from my trips to New Orleans and a bit of influence from my daughter and her girlfriend. The overarching story of the family will continue to weave through all five books, each of which will be told from the point of view of a different family member. All of which will be released within the same year—2020. I do so hope you follow along and enjoy the journey.
Also, I’d really, really love it if you would consider leaving a review. Not only do I love receiving feedback but reviews also help other readers find what they are looking for. It’s the readers and reviewers who make up the foundation of our author world, and we love you madly for all you do!
Thanks! Until next time, keep the magick real.
~ Debra Kristi
Meet The Author
Debra Kristi was born and raised a Southern California girl. She still resides in the sunny state with her husband, two kids, and several schizophrenic cats. Unlike many of the characters in the stories she writes, Debra is not immortal, and her only superpower is letting the dishes and laundry pile up.
