She grabs the pen from the counter and starts writing on the blank half of the page. When done, she hands it to me. I gaze at her delicate handwriting. Her name is Luna, and she has given me her phone number in exchange.
James fakes a cough. I turn toward him, and his face is pressed into a horrible attempt to hide his expression—a grimace. He points to his watch. I glance at my own. We need to get moving if we are to be on time for our meetup with his brother John.
I grant Luna a meek smile. “We have to go right now, but if you give me a call later, I can probably get you the items you are looking for.”
“Really? Thank you so much. I can’t even tell you what this means to me.” She heaves a breath.
“It’s nothing, really.” I motion to James that I’m about ready to go, and then a thought jumps to the forefront of my mind. “You know, our coven meets once a week on Mondays after school. Maybe, if you are serious about developing your skill, you might want to join us?”
“That would be amazing! Thank you.” Her smile brightens her features.
“You really should,” James says, stepping back into our circle. “Because, girlfriend, your skin…” He drags his palm down the side of his face. “And your…Mmm, mmm, mmm…” He waves his hand in the air, indicating her form. “Fashion. You have got it going on. We could use some of that goodness in our little coven.”
“Gee, thanks.” She bites the edge of her lip, tapering an otherwise wide smile.
“I just speak the truth.” He wraps an arm around me. “Now, I hate to bring this beautiful moment to an end, but Belle and I have someplace we really need to be.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Luna grabs his hand and shakes. Shakes my hand next. “Thank you, again.”
“Let me see this.” James grabs the paper from Luna’s hold and writes something somewhat lengthy, then returns it. She studies what he wrote and smiles, nods.
We say our goodbyes and head out the door. Outside the shop, a man leans against the nearest post. His intense stare appears to follow Luna when she walks down the street in the opposite direction. I glare at him, and he shifts toward me, glares back.
“You’re not welcome here,” he says with a hiss.
Chapter Three
I like to be easy going, but I don’t care for being pushed around, and I do not take kindly to people telling me where I do and do not belong.
“Guess it’s a good thing, then, that I am leaving,” I say and tug James close, walk away.
“You know what I meant, little witch,” he hollers behind us.
His message sends a shiver through my system, but I refuse to glance back. Won’t give him the satisfaction.
I find it funny… odd… that he used the same term for me that James’s brother did, though. I wonder if I should actually find that concerning.
The rain picks up just enough that our umbrellas are needed. Popping them open, we make our way to the restaurant known as Mother’s. John hasn’t yet arrived, but we grab a seat, to secure our spot, and wait. Turns out, we don’t need to wait long. Five minutes and he strolls through the door like a glowing orb of confidence. He drops into the seat beside me with a thud, and tosses James a couple of twenties.
“Get us some grub, willya?” John says with a sharp rise of his chin. “You know my preferred.”
James glances at me, a nervous twitch at the edge of his lips. “What would you like?” he asks me.
“I’ll just have the special, and a Coke,” I reply.
He stands, hesitates, then steps away from the table and heads for the order line. John leans toward me. “Tell me what’s going on that my little bro thought my help was necessary.”
I rub my hands down the top of my legs, spare a fleeting glance to James, and then lock my attention on John. “I thought she was suffering from depression or something, but none of the healing spells I’ve performed have made a bit of difference. Her moods are like night and day. She’s her somewhat-happy self on workdays, and an I-don’t-know-what on her days off.” I release a settling sigh. “Maybe she’s bipolar or something. But even then, shouldn’t the healing spells make some sort of difference?”
John scratches his jawbone and scrutinizes me in silence. My skin itches and I want to wiggle in my seat, but I don’t.
James drops a tray of food on the table and takes a seat. “I got us a couple of fries to share.” He hands me my special and a Coke, snags a drink and a turkey po’ boy off the tray, and pushes the fries and remaining meal to the center of the table.
John grabs his drink, sucks down a big swig, then retrieves his sandwich. “Mmm-Mm.” He smells the meat before taking a bite. “Most satisfying after the week I’ve had.” He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.
“Do you want to talk about it?” James prompts.
“Not even a little bit.” He smirks at James, snaps his stare on me. “Caleb may have been sent away for his supposed ‘crime…’” he whispers and uses air quotes around the word crime. “But he has many ‘friends.’” More air quotes. “And this here is New Orleans. You can’t keep a man like that down. He still has his claws deep into your mom’s psyche.”
I jolt back and suck in a deep breath. Blink.
“You know who I am? Who my mom is?”
“Who doesn’t? The connected magickal community in these parts knows all about your family and its deep roots.” He chews a bite and swallows. Wipes his thumb at the edge of his mouth. “Your mom, she ain’t no big deal, except for her connection to you and your siblings. But what she let happen,
