Allure

wondrous detail of this simple cloth, I peer into the mirror hanging on the wall. My pupils are dilated like saucers, leaving only a tiny sliver of space for my irises. Drawing a quick breath, the flowery scent of the hand soap on the counter fills my nostrils.

Holy cow. I feel strong. Invincible. Like I could get back on that bike and ride to High Point Bluff without so much as breaking a sweat. This tea is amazing.

Miss Delia’s in the kitchen, clanging pots she shouldn’t be moving in the first place. A few short strides later, I’m down the hall, through the living room, then burst through the swinging door, accidentally slamming the door against the kitchen wall.

Miss Delia startles and clutches her chest. “Lord, Emma, you nearly scared the life from me. I told you before not to sneak up on me.”

“Sorry.” Clamping my hand over my mouth, I gasp, shocked by my own strength. I’d only thought I’d tapped the door. Better reel it in. Otherwise she’ll know something’s up. “I’m just really anxious to tell you the latest with Claude. Yesterday, after the funeral—”

She lifts her hand. “Whoa. Slow down, girl. You’re moving faster than a hummingbird at a bee balm plant. Sit down. Take a breath.” She gestures to the stool next to the worktable.

Oops. I guess I’m not hiding it as well as I thought. Sucking a huge breath, I pace across the kitchen as slowly as I can, but my heart’s beating a conga in my chest, propelling me forward. Concentrating on each deliberate step, I finally reach the stool and ease myself down on its well-worn top.

Miss Delia leans toward me, squinting through her good eye. “You okay?”

I nod. “Yes. Just at little antsy.” My pulse throbs in my ears.

“Squirrelly is more like it.” Crossing her arms, she takes me in for a long moment. “Well, go on, what’s got you so excited?”

Taking my time, I tell her about my encounter with Claude outside Beau’s office and his not-so-veiled threats against her and basically everyone else I know.

She sucks her teeth. “That man’s got some mighty strong convictions, doesn’t he? Not to mention a strong dislike of me.”

“Yeah. Why do you think that is? He’s new around here. He can’t possibly know your history with hoodoo, can he? For all he knows you’re just some old lady in a wheelchair. No offense.”

She smiles. “None taken. I’ve been thinking about our Mr. Corbeau. There’s always a chance someone has shared my background, but I doubt any binyahs would tell such things to a comeyah,” she says, using the Gullah words for natives and newcomers to the island. “And he is most certainly not from Sa’leenuh. But he is quite slick and persuasive, manipulative, even. I suspect he thinks you kids know more than you’re telling, and figures if he threatens me, it’ll tug on your heart strings enough to get you to roll over.”

“There’s no way we’re going to do that. Ever.”

She cackles. “I know you won’t. But you won’t need to. ’Cause we’re going to cast the strongest Keep off the Law charm that’s ever been created and nip this business in the bud.” She points to her shelf. “Fetch me my spell book.”

Forgetting myself, I bolt across the kitchen, snap up the ledger, and set it on the table in front of her in about two seconds flat.

Setting her glasses on her nose, she peers over the frames. “Emma, if you don’t stop ricocheting around here like a jackrabbit, you’re going to give me a coronary.”

I bite my lip. “Sorry.”

“Okay, now, get me some devil’s dung and…” She leafs through her spell book, then stops, lingering over a page. Tilting her head, she asks, “Have you been using my spell book without my knowledge?”

“No. The last time I used it was when we made Cooper’s projection mojo. Why?”

She hitches a brow. “You sure? Maybe you decided to cast a few charms on the side?”

My heart throbs even harder. Does she know about my tea? I can’t see how that’s possible since it’s not listed in her book, and besides, it’s not technically a spell, just a drink made from ingredients that should increase my strength and energy. Really, when you think about it, aside from a lack of sweeteners and a handful of rare ingredients, it’s not all that different from those high-performance energy drinks sold in every convenience store in the country. “Um, no. Why?”

“Because I don’t recall mixing anything with Dyer’s Bugloss lately, but this page is smudged and there’s a dusting of powder in the crease.”

My stomach twists. I’d never, ever let anything get on her spell book. It’s too valuable and represents too much history. I charge across the room to the table, spin the book around, and scan the entry. Dyer’s bugloss, also known as alkanet, or anchusa, is a root bark used to make dye and is considered lucky in bringing good fortune in business and money matters. The page is marred with a bright red stain, as if someone wiped their thumb against the paper. I drag my index finger through the dark green powder that’s caked between the pages and then lift the dust to my nostrils. The scent of sweet, wild strawberries fills my nose. “I’ve never used this before.” I turn the book back in her direction.

“You know anybody who’s been gambling lately?”

“I don’t think so.”

“This is a green magic charm used to bring in all kinds of money. Legal and otherwise.” She lifts a nearby dishrag and brushes the remaining powder from the spine. “Normally I might be inclined to wonder if your brother had gotten in here trying to make himself a quick buck, but Jack’s taken a nice turn since he’s been cured, and I doubt he’d disrespect me that way. Besides, he couldn’t pull off this kind of spell on his own. It takes advanced knowledge of scripture and knowing how to smoke ingredients without burning them. The only two people in this house with that kind of expertise are you and me.”

I shake my head. “I swear. I haven’t broken my promise. I’d never share your secrets with anyone. Even Jack and Cooper.”

She pats my hand. “I know that.” Rubbing her chin she looks out the window into the backyard, slipping into her thoughts once again. Her brow furrows. “I don’t see how it’s possible,” she murmurs, barley above a whisper. Ordinarily I doubt I’d be able to make out her words, but my tea’s working overtime allowing me to hear every syllable. She sits in silence, mulling over something in her head.

“Miss Delia?”

She turns toward me. “Yes?”

“Everything okay?”

She smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, Emma. We’ve got some Keep off the Law spells to cast, don’t we? And while we’re at it, I’m going to work a few protection charms of my own to make sure we cover all our bases. Let’s get to it.”

Like I’ve done a hundred times before, I follow Miss Delia’s directions and gather an armful of crocks and apothecary bottles from the shelves and deposit them on the worktable. As we work, the usual breeze kicks up, circling the house and rustling the surrounding trees. An occasional blast of wind blows through the house, rattling the doors and windows and bringing only temporary relief from the summer heat. What we need is a nice, big, fat thunderstorm to douse the parched garden and drop the temperature. But these spells aren’t strong enough to draw that kind of elemental energy.

A couple hours later, our supercharged, full-frontal offense is almost complete. Along with a couple new mojo bags for her, we’ve cast a few protective spells around the house and property. There’s just one last charm, and I’m grateful my energy tea is still in full effect. Perched on a stepladder, I hammer a line of eight nails into the threshold above her doorframe.

“Don’t bang them all the way,” she reminds me for the tenth time.

“I know.” I grunt as I pound the last nail, making sure it doesn’t go in too far.

“Now, set the penny between the first two nails and bend them,” she instructs, craning her neck to make sure I don’t do it wrong.

I set the first Indian Head penny, dated 1889, in the first open space. Keeping my finger on the copper coin, I carefully tap the head toward the left to fold it diagonally over the penny, then do the same with the nail on the right. When I’m done, the nails form a perfect “X” over the figure in the feather headdress. Three coins later, the task is complete, and if the spell works, we’ll have “X’d-out the Law” from Miss Delia’s house.