Spells A Bayou Magic Novel - Kristen Proby Page 0,16
nothing, Millicent. You’ll go home and tend to our children.”
“I won’t let you die for me.” I fall into his arms, sobbing. “Please, Lucien. Please don’t do this.”
He kisses my head. “Don’t worry, darling. We’ll meet again soon, the way we’ve done for countless lifetimes.”
More men arrive, and I’m cast aside as they take Lucien and drag him out of the building and to the gallows.
I can’t let him die alone. I won’t. I follow and stand in front of the angry mob, the residents holding burning torches and shouting slurs at Lucien for being a witch.
His eyes find mine.
And they don’t let go until he’s swinging, and the life leaves him.
The crowd cheers.
And I let out a sob turn to see to our children.
“Come on, Millie.” I smell the salts and open my eyes. “Ah, there she is.”
“Lucien?” I glance up into his handsome face. “You got me out of jail.”
He grins, but then the smile vanishes from his lips. “You passed out.”
I look around, surprised to see the police already here. Cash is scowling, but he isn’t looking at me.
“Oh, goddess, there’s a hand.” I sit up and see the extremity still sitting on the bench, undisturbed.
“Any idea how it got here?” Cash asks me.
“No. I must have walked right past it a little while ago when I went over to Dahlia’s shop to get some flowers for the café. I didn’t notice it.”
“I didn’t see it when I arrived this morning,” Esme adds.
An officer is taking photos, recording the scene. The whole area around the Brew has been taped off.
Lucien helps me stand, and we back up, giving the police plenty of space to work.
Another man arrives, wearing a name badge that says medical examiner.
“Has the scene been processed?” he asks.
“Yeah, you can go ahead and take it.” Cash gestures to the hand. “Be careful. It’s holding something.”
The man frowns, and then recognition dawns in his eyes when he sees the bloodstone.
“I’m fucking sick of serial killers,” he mutters as he removes the hand from my bench, bags it, and takes it away.
The police finish with their questions. Shortly after, it’s back to business on our little street in the French Quarter, as if there hadn’t been a disembodied hand just lying about.
“Come on,” Lucien says. “We’re taking you home.”
“Like hell, we are,” I reply and step out of his reach. “I’m not sick. I’m not hurt. I am a little pissed off, to be honest. But I can certainly work. Besides, I’m leaving early today. Brielle, Daphne, and I are going to see Mama this afternoon.”
Lucien pushes his dark-rimmed glasses up his nose and then shoves his hands into his pockets.
Why are the glasses so sexy? Because they are.
“All right, then. Call if you need me.”
“How did you know this was happening?” I ask before he can turn and walk away.
“I came to see Dahlia this morning, actually.” That comment bruises my ego, although the thought’s completely ridiculous. “When I arrived, I saw the crowd and you reaching down to touch something that sparked. And then I had a mild heart attack when you went down. It’s a bad moment that I’d rather not repeat.”
Okay, ego soothed.
“Same here,” I reply, my voice softer. “I’m going to have some questions for you later.”
“Anytime.” He winks and then turns to walk over to Dahlia’s shop. The crowd has dispersed.
It’s time to get back to work.
“What are we going to do?” Brielle asks as Daphne drives us to the hospital where Mama now lives.
“We’re gonna go visit our mother,” I remind her.
“No, about the other stuff. Or have you already forgotten that someone left a hand corpse at your place of business?”
“Kind of hard to forget,” I murmur. “But frankly, I only have space in my brain for one uncomfortable thing at a time. Right now, it’s Mama.”
“She’s been doing better,” Daphne reminds me. “Ever since we beat Hor—”
“Don’t say that name,” Brielle says.
“Since he’s been gone, and took whatever was controlling Mama with him, she’s been much better.”
“The nurse told me last time that she comes and goes,” I reply. “Sometimes, she’s perfectly lucid and normal. And other times, she’s a little confused.”
“She was possessed by evil for more than twenty years,” Brielle adds. “I think all things considered, she’s not doing so bad.”
I nod, and Daphne parks the car. We have to check in with a security guard, have our bags checked, and walk through a metal detector. But it isn’t long before we’re on our mother’s