Spells A Bayou Magic Novel - Kristen Proby Page 0,18
more than anything to stay with Millicent. To make sure she’s okay.
But I’m not her husband, and she has a business to run and a family to see to.
“I’m not the boss of you because I’m your cousin,” I reply. “It’s because you’re a novitiate. My apprentice, Dahlia. You have to practice the spells and do the reading I’ve given you if you’re going to grow in your knowledge and eventually become a permanent member of our coven. You already know this.”
Dahlia’s father and my father share great-grandparents. So, we aren’t close cousins, but we do come from the same bloodline. Dahlia’s family veered toward the darker magics, and Dahlia was raised as such.
About a year ago, she approached me and told me that the dark coven wasn’t her home and hoped I’d take her on as an apprentice, to teach and guide her so she could be initiated into our coven.
She’s been a fantastic and dutiful student.
Until today.
She’s frowning at me, strumming her fingers on the counter. “You’re quite the demanding teacher, Lucien.”
“I warned you of that when we started. If it’s become too much for you, say the word, and I’ll use my time elsewhere.”
She looks down, clenches her eyes shut, and then shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to lash out at you. I haven’t been sleeping great, and I’m just irritable. Then, seeing that awful hand on Millie’s bench just threw me for a loop.”
“I get it,” I reply. “If today isn’t a good day, we can reschedule.”
“Maybe that’s what I need,” she agrees. “I’m sure after a few days, I’ll get some rest, and I’ll have time to do some studying. I’m sorry for being such a pain in the butt this week, and for wasting your time.”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I admit. “Just communicate with me, Dal. If you don’t have time or brain space to study, let me know. It’s the number of days that counts, not how quickly you can do them.”
“Okay.” She nods and offers me an apologetic smile. “Thanks for being understanding. I’ll make it up to you.”
“Just study,” I reply as I push my glasses up onto my nose and turn to walk out of her shop. It’s a nice day, and I have a little while before I have to go back to the lab, so I decide to walk down a few blocks to see someone special.
I push through the glass door and smile at the man when he looks up, a loupe pressed to his eye.
“How’s your day going, Dad?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s a fine day, that’s to be sure,” he replies and takes the loupe off his head. “What are you up to?”
“I was in the Quarter this morning and thought I’d drop by.”
His eyes, so like mine, narrow on me. The man has always seen right through me.
“What’s troubling you?”
I blow out a breath and realize that I didn’t just come down to say, “hi.” I needed to talk to my father and get his advice.
“It’s begun,” I reply simply and watch as my father takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly.
“We knew it would happen soon.”
“I know, I’m just never ready for it.”
“That’s to be expected when you’re dealing with evil at this magnitude,” he says. “How can I help?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. I quickly fill him in on what I know, from the dead man with the bloodstone in his mouth, to the severed hand with the same kind of stone in its palm this morning.
“Is the blood on the stone the same as the victims’ blood?”
“I haven’t examined the one from this morning yet, but the first one wasn’t. It’s clearly from a different person. And I can’t see where the stone came from.”
“You tried?” Dad asks, his eyes wide. “You held it and dropped your shields?”
“Yes, sir. But the spell is too strong. I couldn’t see anything. It made me a little sick.”
“Don’t do that again,” Dad warns. “I know you think you’re doing what needs to be done to look, to help, to solve this faster, but you’re only opening yourself up to potential harm.”
“I’m so frustrated,” I admit and pace his shop. Dad’s been a goldsmith in the Quarter since before I was born. His work is sought after all over the world. “It’s never happened this way before.”
“Because he’s weaker than he was before.”
“Yet still stronger than I’d like,” I say with a sigh. “What if I