“I think I’ll retire to my room early. I’m not very hungry.”
“No,” Mémé says.
My mother splutters like a car out of gas. “M-Mom.”
“She’s got a right to live her life the way she sees fit. I understand if you don’t agree with it, but we have no time for division among our ranks.”
“Because business always comes before family.” My mother’s voice is acidic, and her face is twisted by anger. It hurts my heart to look at her.
“No, child. You’ve got it all wrong. It’s because our business is family.” Mémé sighs, and I see every one of her ninety years. “Come. Let us cast a circle. We need a cleansing and calmness. There’s more at work here than emotions.”
“Are we under attack?” I ask, instantly on edge.
“I can feel the negativity clinging to us like salt water taffy. We got a lot of eyes on us. Not all of them wish us well. You get enough folks projecting bad on you, and it builds up. A spell unspoken. It’s not like you to be so closed off. Think about it.”
My mother’s eyes widen. “You’re right.”
“Come, let us cast.”
She holds out her hands, and we stand on opposite sides of her and join hands. We bow her head as her voice washes over us, sure and full of power. I can feel the circle that closes in. Her voice is an instrument of power as she calls down the guardians. The circle sweeps away the negativity, opening up the closed spaces. At the end, when she opens the circle, I’m a million times lighter.
“I’m not angry, Lou. Not really. I’m worried. You’ve got so many people looking toward you for answers, guidance, and protection. You were right. I still see you as the scared young woman who ran. I can’t lose you like that again. I won’t pretend I’m happy with your decisions, but you’re my baby girl. We’ll always find common ground.”
With a tentative truce in place, I go into her arms like a homing pigeon. At least, one thing in my chaotic life has been set to rights.
***
I flip through the appointment book and pause.
“Fel, am I reading this right?” I blink as I study the log sheet. “We have an appointment in the Blanchard home at noon?” The old-fashioned witch family tended to stay to themselves. The thought of them stepping out of their comfort zone to hire us is odd.
“You are. They want us to authentic a magical item. They’re having a dispute with the Morel family over a magical item. Both think they have an honest claim to it.”
“I see why Sacha isn’t here.”
“Yeah, they need an impartial third party to do the research, and deliver unbiased information.”
“We can do that with our eyes closed.” A thrill runs through me. My fingers itch to touch the old leather bound books and feel the power radiating off them from the magic wielders who’ve come before us. “Do we know what the artifact is?”
“No, they want us to come in blind. That way our responses won’t be tainted in any way.”
A mystery I may actually be able to solve. All’s gone quiet on the eastern front. The witch has gone underground, and it’s become a waiting game with the equinox steadily approaching.
When the bell above the door jingles, I’m grateful.
The curvy woman is dressed head to toe in black with a pair of three-inch heels and a scarf wrapped around her head. She’s taking the secrecy to the next level. I could smell the crisp bills I knew must be stacked up in her bank account. The oversized sunglasses she wore cost more than some paid for rent. “Welcome to Witch for Hire. What can we do for you?”
“I heard you can help with spells.” She places a hand on her collarbone, and I swear I’ve been dropped into an episode of Scooby Doo.
How did she get our address?
“Depends on the situation,” Fel says.
“I own bed and breakfast with a lot of history. Paranormal activity has been known to happen. Missing things, noises, and sometimes people have been touched. It always held a light-hearted air about it. Until recently.”
I exchange a look with Fel.
“Did you change anything?” Fel asks.