Hail to the Queen (Witch For Hire 2)

“Lou?” His voice shakes. “What’s happening?”

“This was asleep inside of you. All I did was wake it. This is who you are, Vit. You’re an Esçhete, equal to each of us. Don’t you ever forget that.” His lips twitch before they yield to a smile that threatens to split his face. His eyes burn with an inner light, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. He’s a different person.

Laughter bubbles up inside of me, and I let it spill out. My family is healing.

Facing the west, Fel lifts her arms. “Spirits of the Water, I call on you.” Her voice is bubbly and sweet like a brook running over stones. A fine water mist creeps in, surrounding the circle of fire without extinguishing it. The flames sway with t

he wind as the elements work in harmony, co-existing. The ancestors are pleased. Here in this place of power, I’m starting to see our real capabilities.

“Spirits of the Earth, I call on you.” The ground trembles beneath our feet. I watch as a wall of dirt rises, three feet high and solid. It’s stunning. I turn toward my cousins.

“Our circle is cast, blessed be.”

I sense that I’m on the right path. It’s the reassurance I’ve been searching for. As we peer into the sky, silence falls as nature puts on its daily show. The sky shifts from a blazing red, to a burnt orange that gives way to a light peach and pale pink as the sun coasts its way up onto the horizon. Peace fills me. As the sun shines down, a translucent dome shimmers above us.

Tiny, flickering flames come to life in Vit’s palms. Bright blue and black butterflies dance around Aimee. Fel is an artist, creating bubbles of water on her fingertips. Crouching down, I bury my fingers in the ground. I find the struggling Irises at the base of the trees and send them my energy. I watch as the slumped flowers straighten, becoming a vibrant violet as the leaves turn lush and a rich green.

We spend the rest of the morning practicing our skills and meditating. As we leave the clearing, the newly developed bond between us is secure. This is how family should feel.

***

I wanted my two families to unite, but not like this. God, never like this. My stomach rolls at the sight of yards of fabrics draped across the table. Satin, lace, organza, and tulle all battle for dominance in a sickening display of shades not entirely white. Their eyes are all trained on me. Gil’s intense oceanic blue, and my mother and Mémé’s natural shades of amber and brown.

“What do you think, Lou?” Gil asks.

What do I think? That I’m suffocating under the weight of planning these insane, decrepit ceremonies meant more for show than an expression of emotion. Traditions, status, and etiquette have joined together to form a noose. The rope is tightening around my neck with every day that passes.

“What do I think?” I repeat the question slowly.

“Yes, these are your days. You need to be happy with them,” my mom says.

I give a humorless chuckle. “Oh, no. They are anything but my days. Let’s call them what they are: carefully crafted events to show everyone how beautiful, powerful, and special we are.”

Her jaw drops and Gil hisses. His disproval rolls over me through our bond. Bite me.

I refuse to feel guilty for my honesty. I was never the type of girl who fantasized about having the perfect wedding. I don’t like formal wear, stuffy parties, or worrying about seating arrangements. This planning is pure torture. “Look, you can dress me up appropriately, go over the important traditions, make sure I know who’s who, so I can play the political game, and let me do what I do best. Work.”

Gil sighs and glances up at the ceiling. “You are so bull-headed.”

My mother gives a humorless laugh. “Trust me. You’ve only scratched the surface.”

Murmurs rise as the ceremony committee whispers among themselves.

“Non.” Mémé’s voice slices through the buzz. She pushes herself up. “You will not shirk your responsibilities. This is more than a lavish party announcing your arrival to a meaningless position. The night will dictate how you wish to be perceived. It sets the stage, giving a glimpse of how you plan to rule. Nothing you’ve ever planned has been more personal or important. Is this a show of power? Absolutely. There have been too many cracks in the foundations and breaks from the old ways. You have a lot to prove. There’ll be no stopping them from testing you, but you can scare them in to not coming for you until you and your man are ready. You’re balancing a lot on two scales. You have to work harder than any who’s ever held this position. Because if either side goes down, it’s bad for the entire community.”

“Mémé—”

“Non. It’s time to grow up. The time for hesitation and selfishness is finished. Deep in my heart, I knew you were the one to lead us. I saw glimpses of your greatness from the time you were old enough to work magic. It’s been an inspiring and terrifying journey to get here. You’ve stepped up, protected this family, and made some hard decisions. We all can see you’re tired. But now is not the time to rest on your laurels. You’ve committed yourself to forging a new path. Own it. Forget about the way others ruled. Make this your debut. Celebrate the differences. You hear me, girl?”

Her response is multi-layered. She’s reminding me of what’s important. Ashamed, I duck my head. How quickly I’ve forgotten to put my people’s needs first. A strong showing at the coronation could go a long way toward conquering fears and smoothing ruffled feathers. The supernatural world is watching. “Yes, I hear you, Mémé. I’ll do better.”

“Good. We can’t afford for anything less than your best. These are precarious times. Can’t you sense it? There’s a cold wind drifting in. We won the battle over the black coven, yes, but wars aren’t ended with a single victory.”

I nod. I’ve felt the disturbance. I wanted to blame it on jitters. There are still dark coven members out there. Plotting, and possibly regrouping or recruiting new members. The attack shook the witch community. And they don’t even know the half of it. Having my own aunt participate firsthand in an attempt to destroy us has me questioning everyone and everything I believed. Had she been influenced, or was she acting of her own free will?

Her past points to the later, but I cannot wrap my head around why. What makes a woman who has everything she needs and more abandon her very blood? I want to investigate further, but we’ve been laying low and playing the part of a family in mourning. I exchange a look with Mémé and silently pledge to dig deeper. She nods her head and sits back in her chair with a fluidity that mesmerizes me. She is royalty personified in every action, word, and movement. I’ve got big shoes to fill.

“If this is going to be my ceremony.” I stand, stalking over to the samples, and push them off the table and on to the ground. “We’re starting over from scrap. I don’t want to be sworn into an office inside. I want to be outside in a sacred place out in the Bayou. We need to reconnect and get back to our roots. The earth will help ground everyone. The water nearby and the trees will help us dispel negative energy.” For the first time, I’m enjoying this process. Mémé’s words lit a fire under my behind. This is about more than a party.