Spells A Bayou Magic Novel - Kristen Proby Page 0,43
more herbs into the cauldron and raises her hands into the air once more.
“Bring her back to the light and banish this evil. As we gather here in perfect love and perfect trust, our shield becomes hers. Our strength, her strength. Raising the Power of three times three, this is our will, so mote it be.”
When we’re finished, the potion is bottled up, and we’re on our way for the night.
Tomorrow will be a busy day.
“Why’s it so slow?” Esme asks the following day.
“Because it’s Tuesday in the offseason,” I remind her. “But that’s okay because Gwyneth is coming in for a couple of hours this afternoon for training.”
“I love Gwyneth,” Esme says with a grin. “She’s so sweet and has a wonderful energy about her.”
“I agree. She’ll be great for the shop. Do you mind training her today while I go to the hospital with the others?”
“Do you really think I would say no to that when I know you’re about to go rescue your mother from demonic possession?”
I grin at my friend. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess not.”
The bell over the door rings, and in walks Lucien with his mother.
“Look who I found loitering outside,” he says.
“I was enjoying the sunshine and admiring your fun sign.” Gwyneth smiles. “The broomstick standing out of the coffee mug is so darn cute.”
“Thanks. And welcome. You’re going to work with Esme this afternoon, and I’ll be with you tomorrow morning, if that sounds good to you.”
“Honey, I’m just so happy to be here, it all sounds good to me. You go take care of your mama. Esme and I will be just fine right here.”
“Thank you.” Lucien takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
We walk outside, but rather than leading me to his car, Lucien points across the street.
“Do you mind if we check in on Dahlia? I texted her the other day and haven’t heard back.”
“Of course.”
We cross the street, and before we can open the door, Dahlia opens it herself and then jumps when she sees us. “Oh, hi, guys. You startled me.”
“Are you closing for the day?” I ask.
“Yeah, traffic’s slow, I’m caught up on orders, and I thought I’d take the rest of the day to run a couple of errands. My damn phone fell and busted. I have to replace it.”
“I was going to ask why I haven’t heard back from you,” Lucien says.
“That would be why. I’m a klutz. Sorry about that. But I should have a shiny new one later today. Did you need something specific?”
“I called to invite you out to Miss Sophia’s place with us yesterday. We thought it would be a good learning experience for you.”
“Well, damn it. Next time for sure.”
“We won’t keep you then,” I say. “Have a good day, Dahlia.”
“You guys, too!”
“I can’t let you in,” the security guard says. “The doctor has put a no-guest block on your mother’s chart.”
“I’d like to speak with the doctor,” I reply. My sisters, Cash, and Lucien are with me. “He knew I was coming today to check on her.”
“I’ll see if I can reach someone.” He picks up a phone. Less than five minutes later, the doctor is down at reception, a look of pure male stubbornness on his wrinkled face.
“I’m sorry, everyone. Miss Ruth is still very tired and not up for guests today.”
“I am going to see my mother today,” I reply. Cash pats my shoulder and steps forward, his badge out.
“Unless you want me to bring a whole slew of legal issues into your hospital, you’re going to let us up to see our family member. In her room. Alone. We have a right to be with her.”
The doctor’s nose flares in frustration, but finally, he nods at the security guard and walks away without another word. We’re cleared through the metal detector and led up to Mama’s floor.
I’ve never been in her room. She’s usually in the communal area when we come to visit. When we walk through the door of room 636, I have to take a moment to breathe so I don’t throw up.
“What in the actual fuck?” I ask.
There’s nothing in the room except for a bed. And Mama’s currently shackled to it, her hands and feet buckled into restraints.
“Who the fuck’r you?”
The voice isn’t Mama’s. It’s deep and hoarse, and the way she’s thrashing on the bed isn’t human. Her moans are guttural as if she’s snarling at us.
“We need to get this