spies and spells 01 - spies and spells

by Kappes, Tonya

“I’m your only sister,” I happily reminded her and made a couple kissy noises with puckered lips.

  “The fact still remains that I won the bet.” The words I had been dreading to hear were about to come out of her mouth. She continued, “I want you to take my morning shift, so you better get home and get your beauty sleep.”

  “Morning shift?” My jaw dropped. “As in this morning?” I was well aware it was past midnight.

  “Dear, dear sister.” Lilith used her finger to push my mouth shut by pressing on the bottom of my chin. “Auntie Meme had me opening.” Her lips curled. “And since you,” she leaned over, “turned the wrong guy into a sweet little kitty, you lose.”

  The Derby was even more packed than before.

  Buck sat two short glasses in front of us, giving us each a three-finger pour of Makers.

  “What is going on here tonight?” I yelled over the crowd.

  “The Grind is here to spin!” Buck warned of the locally famous DJ who brought every single vinyl record and drew in the crowds.

  I nodded, sending Buck on his way.

  “Looks like you won’t get but two hours of sleep. Just like last time. Do you remember last time?” Lilith rubbed in the fact I had never won a dare.

  I definitely remembered last time. Auntie Meme hadn’t forgotten. It was a waitress’s nightmare. I was so tired from working two shifts. I was getting everyone’s orders mixed up. For a witch and a witch’s diner, that wasn’t good. Auntie Meme had a habit of putting little food spells in some customers’ orders. If someone was in a bad mood, Auntie Meme had her way of putting him or her in a good mood by adding a little something to their food. It was her calling. Unfortunately, I had yet to find my calling in the witchy world.

  “Next time.” I picked up the glass and threw back the Makers hoping this last drink was going to do the trick of knocking me out. Five a.m. was going to come early. Too soon. “Next time.” I glared before easing myself up off the stool and heading back out to Vinnie who was waiting for me with the door wide open.

  “I’m staying to listen to The Grind since I don’t have to get up so early.” Lilith rubbed it in. I ignored her, walking out of the bar, regretting accepting the dare.

  “How bad was it?” Vinnie asked when I got in the car.

  He did a u-turn in the middle of Second Street and headed down, taking a right on Hill before turning down Sixth, pulling up to entrance of Belgravia Court.

  “Not bad. She wasn’t that bad.” I held my clutch close to my chest. “I might have to get up in a few hours, but I’m going to look good.” I rubbed the outside of my bag knowing my new makeup was safe and sound.

  Chapter Five

  “I told you not to take her dares anymore,” Vinnie said sharply. “This early morning air isn’t good for my pistons.”

  “Early morning anything isn’t good for my skin.” I pulled the car’s visor down taking a good look at the five a.m. bags sitting under my eyes. “I really thought I had her last night.”

  “You didn’t.” Vinnie turned off. “We’re here, Maggie.”

  “Already?” I groaned, flipping the visor back up.

  “It’s not like we live far from The Brew.” My snarky familiar was especially smart-alecky in the morning.

  I looked out the passenger window of the Cobra. There was still frost on The Brew’s large windows. There was a faint light peeking out from the back of the diner. Auntie Meme’s old Huffy bike with the wire basket hooked on the front was chained to the parking meter in front of the diner. She loved riding that old thing. She’d say it ain’t no Harley but it goes. Lord help us all if she were to get a real Harley.

  “Great.” I grabbed my clutch from the passenger seat to get the new lipstick from the Mystic Couture package I had snagged from my failed attempt of turning Mick into a cat. “Auntie Meme is going to ask a lot of questions,” I grumbled under my breath and patted around in my bag for the tube. “At least this lipstick makes me feel more awake.”

  “There is nothing going to help that.” Vinnie brought my attention to the diner where Auntie Meme was looking out the windows, her hands planted on her full hips. Her red hair reminded me of a tulle skirt. I wish she’d let me use the flat iron on her hair, but she claimed it was part of her and unlike me, she embraced her heritage.

  “Damn,” I muttered under my breath. “Lilith.” I didn’t need my witchy senses to tell me Lilith had snagged the lipstick from my bag when I got home last night and fell asleep. I pulled out the old drugstore-bought lipstick and swiped it across my lips. “Better than nothing.” I sucked in a deep breath before stepping out of the car.

  “Another dare lost?” Auntie Meme snickered behind me.

  I pushed the red sparkly plastic upholstery metal chairs up to the café tables as I walked to the back of the diner.

  “And you have on makeup.” Auntie Meme was very observant. “Very strange for you this early,” she pointed out.

  “I did get in late last night—well, this morning—so a little lipstick to brighten my ever not–so-sunny disposition.” I yawned trying to avoid any conversation about the dare I had lost to Lilith. It was too early to hear any lectures on how Lilith had embraced being a witch and worked endlessly on spells, potions, and other things that went along with the curse.

  Curse was probably a bit too harsh, but sometimes it was a curse. I just wanted to be normal like all the mortals who surrounded us and maybe pick a career, not have one picked for me.

  Auntie Meme gave a slight harrumph when she realized my lips were sealed and disappeared into the kitchen portion of the diner where the true magic happened.

  “Alac—” I lifted my hand.

  “Don’t you dare,” Auntie Meme gasped from the pass-through window from the kitchen to the diner counter area. “You are being lazy.”

  “What good is being a witch if I can’t use a simple gesture to simply fill the salt and pepper shakers?” I grunted.

  “There are people walking to work and if they happen to look in the windows and see you do some sort of funky flip of the hand…” Auntie Meme’s voice was uncompromising yet gentle. “We will be exposed. People aren’t stupid. I’ve been the prey of one witch hunt, I don’t want to put you and the others through that.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and rolled my eyes, making me feel better, but I knew she was right. She and Mom told childhood stories like mortals did to their children. Only my family rode brooms to school in the snow—not walked barefoot in the snow.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just so early.” I grabbed one of the condiment caddies that held bags of sugar, salt, pepper, and sugar substitute packets. “Did you talk to Mom about me taking a more active role in the kitchen?”

  It was a question I asked Auntie Meme often. She had a way of talking to Mom. I was tired of waiting tables. Lilith at least did the cashier’s job. I wanted to try my hand at cooking. Creating magic like her and Auntie Meme.

  “No. I haven’t had a chance,” Auntie Meme said between the clink of pots and pans coming deep from the kitchen. “I do think it’s a good idea. After all, I’m not going to live forever.”

  “Yes you are.” The plastic cushion of the chair swooshed a breath of air when I plopped down in it. “We can make sure of it,” I joked about our life.

  Auntie Meme was my mom’s aunt on her mom’s side. She has always lived with us or us with her, so I saw her more like a grandmother figure than an aunt. The thought of anything happening to any of us set me on fire.

  “Can you at least let me make some sausage gravy?” I hollered in her direction and unscrewed the lid off the tall glass sugar shaker, filling it to the brim before screwing it back on. I did the same with the salt and pepper, as well as filling the plastic sugar substitute containers.

  “Maybe.”

  At least she didn’t say no.

  I went from table to table with the caddy in hand, filling up the condiments even if it was only a little bit. Each retro table had a different style, different des
igns, and different colors, but all still had the retro feel with the strips of metal around the edges and metal legs. The black and white tiled floor helped pull the look together.

  I grabbed a bunch of napkins and placed one in front of each chair, including the bar stools which lined the counter. We had our regulars who planted their behinds there all morning long. Each table setting got a fork, spoon, knife and a frosted plastic cup. True fifties diner.

  It was like our family was stuck in the old days. When I turned sixteen I wanted to be like all the other mortal teenage girls around me. They got brand new cars and big sweet sixteen birthday parties. I got Vinnie. Not that a vintage AC Cobra wasn’t a cool car, but it was my familiar. Auntie Meme and Mom thought I’d love toodling around in the sports car. I would have if Vinnie didn’t interrupt every party, every guy, and every bit of fun I was ever going to have as a teenager.

  “You insist on defying all the family rules,” Mom would say and that was how she justified Vinnie as my familiar. “We have to keep eyes on you all the time. A car can keep up with you better than an animal familiar.”

  In actuality what she meant was how fast Vinnie could get to me over a four-legged creature. Still, Vinnie could’ve been a modern car, but like I said, Auntie Meme loved all things vintage, including The Brew.

  “Come on back here.” Auntie Meme stuck her head through the pass through, not without giving the dining area a good onceover before she disappeared again.

  I did what she asked. I had to work a double and there was no way I wanted to piss her off this early in the morning. I put the caddy back underneath the counter where it belonged, not doing so was another pet peeve of Auntie Meme’s, ran my hands down the purple sweater I had decided to wear and grabbed a diner apron, tying it around my waist.

  Again, I had to make myself feel like I looked good because pulling a double was going to be excruciating.

  “Did you need me?” I asked nervously as I pushed through the swinging doors between the kitchen and the diner. I wasn’t used to interacting with her so early in the morning.

  The blue flames shot out from all of the gas stove burners, the pots boiled on top each one of them and steam curled in the air sending out aromas of deliciousness.

  “Bring me the seasoning with the leaf label.” Auntie Meme stirred two pots at once, a ladle in each hand. “A dash please,” she ordered when I brought the homemade jar of whatever it was over.

  I flipped the top and shook a dash into both pots, her stirring steadily. The boiling mixture turned into the gravy our diner was famous for.

  “And that’s how you make gravy.” Auntie Meme left the ladles in the pots and brushed her hands over top of them.

  “Seriously?” I asked looking down into the pots that were just boiling water. I glanced down at my hand and looked at the bottle.

  “It’s all in the magic.” She grinned and backed away from the stove, moving on to something else. “If you pick up the early shift again, I’ll let you boil the water next.” She winked, waving me back out to open the diner.

  The morning rush was a killer. The Louisville paper called The Brew the city’s “best kept secret,” putting us on the map. Being in Historic Old Louisville helped keep us busy since the historic society had something always planned for the area. The St. James Court Art Festival, the Old Louisville Hidden Garden Tour, the Kentucky Shakespeare Festival to name a few kept visitors from all over Kentucky and the United States in the area and since The Brew was one of few places to eat, we stayed busy.

  The regulars sat at the counter with their newspapers and friends next to them. I spent most of the morning walking up and down the counter refilling their endless coffee mugs. Lunch wasn’t any better. My feet were starting to ache and thankfully the afternoon help Auntie Meme had hired was there, minus Lilith.

  Lilith had sent me a couple of texts with pictures of her getting a manicure instead of me. I sent her a selfie with my tongue sticking out. She had responded with a smiling face.

  The bell over the diner door dinged. A ping hit my heart, sending a shock throughout me. It was the earthquake feeling again.

  “Take a seat anywhere you can find!” I screamed over the lunch crowd as we always had done in our casual setting. The pulls of attraction tugged on my legs, making me curl up on my toes, peering over top the heads of the customers at the counter.

  The gentleman took a seat at the open two-top next to the window. His face was immediately buried in one of the plastic menus we keep on the table. He had to be new. No one ever looked at the menu.

  I grabbed the pad of paper next to the cash register and told the other waitress to take over the counter so I could grab his order. I plucked a plastic cup of water from the premade water station and curved my way around the tables.

  “Welcome to The Brew.” I put the cup in front of him and rubbed the condensation of water on my hands down the apron. “I suggest the brown beans and cornbread special. It’s delicious.” I tapped my pen on the paper. “Auntie Meme makes the best in Kentucky.”

  Slowly the man lowered the menu, peeking over the top.

  “Mick,” I uttered his name, wishing I could take it back.

  “You.” He moved the menu away from his face. “I want that package. My package.” Nervously he ran his hands through his hair. “Now.”

  “I, um, I. . .” I paused, glancing uneasily over my shoulder. Auntie Meme’s head was sticking out the pass through, setting her evil eye on me. “Keep it down.” I hushed him pretending to write on my order pad. “How did you know I was here? My shift? Are you stalking me?” I asked in an angry hushed whisper, scribbling away.

  “Not too many people around here have that car.” He pointed to Vinnie. “I don’t know who you are, but I want my package.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” I lied.

  “Are you shitting me?” The chair scooted across the floor, his voice escalated and he stood up. “You are trying to deny you stole a package from me last night?”

  “Sit down,” I whispered, watching Vinnie drive off. “I’m not sure what you are talking about,” I lied again, knowing Auntie Meme was closely listening to what I was saying. She had a way of listening in on conversations in the diner.

  He laughed in a sarcastic way, pissing me off. I flung my hand in the air, sending a small forgetful spell at him.

  I gulped hoping it would work.

  “I saw you with my package in your hand last night, getting into that car.” He pointed out the window. His head shot forward, his jaw dropped. “Where the hell did the car go?”

  Shit.

  “What car?” I asked, as I lifted my chin and boldly met his gaze. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Now, what about those beans? Cup or bowl?”

  “Listen and listen closely.” He stood eerily close to me. “I don’t know who you are, or what you are hiding, but I never forget a face. I never forget a car. Especially like the one you drive, and mark my words, I will get my package back,” he whispered in my ear. “I saw you here yesterday morning. I saw you at The Derby last night. I saw you at Central Park taking my package.” He held three fingers in the air. There was some sort of business card in between fingers two and three.

  I gulped again.

  “You have twenty-four hours to hand it over. Or else,” he warned and slid the business card on the table before walking out the door.

  I stood with my back to the diner and the glaring eyes of Auntie Meme. I could feel her cold, hard stare on my back. I closed my eyes and said a little protection prayer over me and took his card off the table slipping it into my apron.

  What was wrong with me? First I got the wrong spell with the cat guy and now the simple forget spell didn’t work on Mick. Something was off. Way off.

  I walked back into the kitchen flipping my hands up and down in the air, letting my wrists flop around. Auntie Meme didn’t seem too happy to see me.

  “I think I’m broken.” I flopped both wrists
at the same time. “None of my spells are working right.”

  I touched my nose and sparks flew out. That was working okay.

  “It’s like they aren’t working all the time.” I sighed and took a good look at my hands. “Nothing seems to be out of order.” I noted each finger, holding my hands to the light. “Something’s off.”

  Auntie Meme disappeared into the food pantry. A bright green glow darted out from underneath the door before it went to black and she reemerged.

  “Be home for dinner tonight. Not a minute late,” she warned sending a sick feeling right to my gut. Another earthquake.

  Chapter Six

  “Smooth move this morning,” I said to Vinnie after I got in the car from the long day of two shifts.

  I had managed to get through the day unscathed, on cloud nine from learning how to make the sausage gravy, but on edge from Mick.

  “If you must know, I was going to dump the contents of the box, but decided you got yourself in this mess and it’s you who needs to get you out of it.” Vinnie didn’t sound so happy as he drove off.

  I couldn’t help but look around me, out every window, thinking Mick was somewhere watching me.

  “Although I’m your familiar, and supposed to keep you safe, you seem to manage to get yourself in hot water often and I’m always saving you.” Vinnie continued to yammer as my mind played the scene from the confrontation with Mick.

  I pulled his business card from the apron, which was still tied around me. I’d been in such a rush to get out of the diner before Auntie Meme could make me stay to help the closing staff that I’d forgotten to take it off.

  “He’s a spy,” Vinnie said, catching my attention.

  “What?” I looked down at the business card.

  Vinnie’s control panel, which looked like a little computer screen in the console, turned on, displaying a photo of Mick. His stats rolled across the bottom of the screen.

  “Six-foot-two, muscular, dark hair, blue eyes, on the Louisville PD for five years before he joined an little-known division of Interpol – the Secret Keepers of the Universal Laws, known as SKUL. He’s a spy.”