Spells (Bayou Magic 2) - Page 57
Her dress is huge. And sparkly.
And she’s holding a wand.
“You’re Glinda the Good Witch.”
“That’s me, sugar,” she says with a wink. “I’m a hit with the little girls.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are.” I laugh and pick up a pair of black flats. “These would be great for work. Is it possible for you to call the shop and ask them to hold a size seven? I’ll pick them up tomorrow.”
“Sure thing,” Charly agrees.
“Look at these,” Dahlia says, holding up a pair of red stilettos. “The heel is so pointy. You could just drive it right into a man’s heart.”
I scrunch up my nose. “What in the world is wrong with you? That’s disgusting.”
“Oh, come on, it’s Halloween.”
“You need to lay off the horror movies, friend.”
“No way, it’s the perfect time of year for them.” She giggles. “And I wonder why I’m single.”
“Yeah, that’s not really a great pickup line. ‘Hey, handsome. Do you like my shoes? They’re pointy enough to drive into your heart.’”
We laugh and admire the rest of the shoes. I put one more pair, some black heels, on hold, and then we make our way back to our own booths.
“You should read my tarot cards,” she says.
“I can totally do that. But don’t you have to man your own stuff over there?”
“My staff has it under control for now.”
“Well, let’s do it then.”
“But let’s do it outside,” Dahlia suggests. “I love the commotion of all the kids and the fresh air. It’s a nice night.”
“I like that idea. We can keep an eye on things. I’ll grab my deck and be right out.”
I hurry inside, grab my cards, check in with Gwyneth—who just shoos me out of the way—and when I decide that everything is under control, I return to Dahlia.
We sit at a table in my booth, and I ask her to cut the deck.
Esme and Lucien are behind me, passing out hot chocolate and admiring costumes.
Everything okay? Lucien asks.
Having a great time, I assure him.
“Okay, let’s get started.” I start, laying the cards on the table. I frown. They’re not making any sense at all. “Are you sure you cut the cards exactly where you wanted to?”
“I did,” she says.
“Huh.” I place a few more on the table in the spread. “I’ve honestly never seen this before.”
“What is it? What do they say?”
“That’s just it, Dahlia. They don’t say anything. They’re jumbled and don’t make any sense at all.”
“Sounds like my life.” She snorts. “Makes perfect sense to me.”
“You need to recharge your stones,” I begin, all serious now. “You need to meditate and realign your chakras. Smudge your home and your store. I’m serious, Dahlia, you might think this is funny, but it’s not good. And it explains a lot. Your clumsiness, for example.”
“I have been extra clumsy lately,” she says with a nod. “You’re right. Maybe I’ve just felt overwhelmed lately. I haven’t taken the time to reset and recharge.”
“Are you okay? I haven’t seen much of you, and you just haven’t been yourself.”
“I know.” She blows out a breath. “Listen, tonight is for fun. So let’s not worry about this right now. I’m doing okay, and now that this is in the forefront of my mind, I can focus on myself a bit over the coming days. The ritual with the blue moon the day after tomorrow will help.”
“Oh, you’re so right. That will be amazing for you. For all of us, really. Good thinking.”
Dahlia pats my hand and then leaves to check on her booth.
“I’m worried about her,” I say to Lucien as I join him by the hot chocolate.
“I have been, too. I’ve just been a little busy with other things. After the hunter’s moon rite, I’ll have a sit-down talk with her.”
“Good idea.”
“Hey, guys, lookie here. Hot chocolate for all the babies.”
A group of four teenagers approaches our booth, all with arrogant little sneers on their acne-filled faces.
“Does that mean you’d like a cup?” I ask innocently.
The friends laugh, but the boy, the leader, doesn’t think it’s funny and knocks a stack of cups over.
“You can be on your way,” Lucien says, his voice hard but low.
“Or what?” the boy asks. “What will you do about it? Sic your little witch on me?”
I smile and pick up a black candle. Lucien snaps his fingers, and the wick ignites, making the kids’ mouths fall open, and their eyes bulge.
“Nice trick.” The boy swallows hard. “It’s just a little parlor trick you probably learned on YouTube.”
I raise a brow, waggle my fingers, and conjure the wind to blow through their hair and then extinguish the flame.
“Whatever, freaks.”
“You know,” I say as I calmly set the candle down, “we were taught to be more respectful, kinder to others. Wouldn’t it be a shame if you and your little buddies here all turned into little black kittens tonight in your beds?”
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