Spells A Bayou Magic Novel - Kristen Proby Page 0,23

a fire in the hearth—most likely with something cooking there.

Miss Sophia is a modern witch, but still utilizes old-fashioned tools of the trade.

My gut tells me that she has something in her cauldron on the fire.

And I can’t wait to find out what it is.

The front door opens as we all exit the car, and Miss Sophia walks out onto the porch and smiles down at us. She’s a petite woman with titanium-colored hair and gray eyes, wearing jeans and a red sweater. I rarely see her dressed casually. When we’re working together, she prefers to wear flowy dresses that remind me of Stevie Nicks.

The thought makes me smile.

“Good morning,” Miss Sophia says as we approach the porch. “Ruth, you look lovely. It’s so good to see you recovering and healthy.”

Mama climbs the porch steps and enfolds Miss Sophia in a hug. “Thank you, my friend. It’s been a long, long time.”

“That it has. Let’s go in, shall we?”

We’re led inside, moving past the living room to the kitchen where there’s already a pot of tea steeping, and a plate of apple muffins set out for us.

We sit at the table, and once our tea has been poured, Miss Sophia looks right at me.

“You’re angry, child.”

All eyes turn my way, and I shrug a shoulder. “I was angrier a few days ago. It’s simmered down some. Now, I’m confused and frustrated.”

“It’s understandable,” she replies. “This table is a place for truth, answers, and for love. It’s always been that way. And, sometimes, yes, there’s anger. But I won’t allow that to fuel the conversation.”

“Like I said, I’m okay, but I have a lot of questions.”

She watches me with those shrewd eyes for a moment and then nods. “Let’s see if we can’t answer them then. First, Ruth, how are you doing? I’m sure you have some questions, as well.”

“I don’t know that you can answer them,” Mama replies, her hands wrapped around her warm teacup. “I want to know where I went for all those years. I think I peeked through at times, but then it’s like I was shoved aside, and I don’t remember anything at all.”

“First of all, I know I apologized when we found you at his lair, but I want to do so again.” Miss Sophia takes Mama’s hand in hers. “I didn’t know that you’d fallen victim to him and the evil that surrounds him. If I’d known, I would have done something to stop it. Ruth, you were an angry woman in your youth, and I just thought you’d become angrier, meaner. And for those reasons, I stayed away, even after Millicent came to me and asked me to help her learn.”

“I was angry,” Mama admits with a nod. “My parents, although not abusive, were too involved in the coven to pay much attention to me. I loved my mother, and I miss her fiercely. I’m so glad she was good to my girls. But she had a hard time with affection. And their father was a mean man. So, no, I wasn’t exactly a pleasant person to be around sometimes. And I’m sorry for that.”

“No need to apologize,” Miss Sophia says. “And you certainly didn’t deserve to be manipulated the way you were for so long. I don’t know where you were when the evil took over. I suspect you were there, observing in some way, lying dormant. As if you were asleep for a very long time. I’ve done some reading, and I believe that he put a series of spells on you, and your home, to lure evil energies there. It would make sense that he would want you incapacitated so you couldn’t teach the girls about the craft. He needed them to be as defenseless as possible.”

“This is so fucked up,” I mutter, shaking my head. “Why is he so obsessed with us?”

“That goes back a thousand years,” Miss Sophia answers.

“Wait.” Brielle holds up a hand. “Are you saying that he is a thousand years old?”

“You all are, child,” Miss Sophia replies. “This has been happening for many lifetimes. Though I don’t know the exact reason he targeted you three. It could be you were his daughters in another life. I haven’t been given that information. I only know that a war is coming that will make last year look like an amusement park, and until the six are together, he won’t be defeated.”

“There are only three of us,” Daphne says.

“There will be six.” Miss Sophia takes a sip of