Spells A Bayou Magic Novel - Kristen Proby Page 0,7

Cash’s face is lined with concern, and his eyes look tired.

“What aren’t you telling me, Cash?”

“The girls found him.” He points to the body.

I tip my head to the side. “Which girls?”

His green eyes find mine. “All three of them. He was dumped outside the restaurant where they were having dinner.”

I don’t like this coincidence. I don’t like it at all.

“Has Brielle seen anything new since then?”

“Not that she’s said.”

I nod, new determination taking root in my gut.

“I’m going to drop this off at the lab and then pay Millicent a visit.”

“Good luck with that.”

The bell above her door rings as I enter the café. Her employee, Esme, is behind the counter, filling orders with a smile.

Esme is a young but powerful witch. She’s also completely flighty and goofy, with messy hair and tons of jewelry draped over her wrists and neck. She’s a fun addition to Witches Brew.

Millie employs mostly witches because they understand the importance of the potions added to the drinks, and because Millie doesn’t have to deal with any of her employees mocking her or making fun of her.

“Hey, Lucien,” Esme greets with a flirty smile. She’s never made it a secret that she has a little crush on me. And I’ve never made it a secret that I’m not interested.

Esme isn’t for me.

“Hi, Esme. Is Millie around?”

“Yeah, she’s reading tarot in the back.”

“Thanks.” I shove my hands into my pockets and wander to her little book area, then stand and grin as I watch the woman I’ve loved for millennia read her cards.

“Lots of Minor Arcana Cups,” Millie says, tapping the table thoughtfully. “Well, this makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“How so?” the woman sitting before her asks, leaning in closer.

“Because the Cups cards always deal with emotion. You’re leading with your heart instead of your head, and that’s certainly clear in every card we’ve drawn today—and based on what you told me.”

“I only told you that I was getting a divorce,” the woman says, her voice heavy with awe.

I smile wider. Yes, Millicent is damn impressive when it comes to tarot. It’s not something I ever had any interest in, but with Millie’s psychic abilities and her flair for the dramatic, watching her read for people is entertaining.

“You’re a Cancer,” Millie points out, as if that explains it all. “You’re artistic and sometimes a little dramatic. Could it be that your decision to ask for a divorce is based on a knee-jerk reaction to something that hurt you?”

“I’ve felt so disengaged from him,” the other woman admits. “There’s no passion anymore, you know?”

“I’m no therapist, nor an attorney, but I can tell you based on these cards, you should have a conversation with your husband. One that is calm and honest. Because this indicates you’re being hasty.”

“Maybe I am,” the client admits with a sigh. “Thank you, Millie. You always help me so much.”

“You’re welcome, sugar,” Millie says with a wink. She gathers her cards and presses her hand over the deck as the other woman leaves, whispering a little incantation to recharge and reset them before setting them aside.

When she glances up and sees me, her brown eyes darken. Whether in pleasure or disappointment, I’m not sure.

“Good afternoon,” I say as I approach.

“Are you here to get your cards read?” she asks.

“No.” I know what my future holds. It’s just how we get there that’s a little hard to see. “I’d like to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“Somewhere private.”

Those big brown eyes narrow on me now. “I was just headed home. You can join me, if you like.”

I nod, surprised by the invitation. Millie’s never invited me into her home, but there’s never been an occasion where I asked to speak to her privately, either.

“I’ll meet you there,” she says. “I just have to check in on Esme and grab my bag.”

“Thanks. I mean it.”

She nods, and I leave, headed for my car. The drive to Millie’s house isn’t a long one, and I park at the curb to wait for her to join me.

She was right. She isn’t far behind me. Once she’s parked in the driveway, I join her on the porch and watch as she eyes my blood mark from earlier.

She doesn’t say anything, just unlocks the door with a flick of her wrist and gestures for me to follow her inside.

Sanguine comes running to greet her human, rubbing up against Millie’s legs as she offers a big meow.

“Hi, darlin’,” Millie says and rubs the cat’s ears. Her fingers are long and strong, and