Hoodoo You Want Read online

  Violet glanced around, suddenly looking not only shocked, but also uncomfortable. “You know, I think I need more than a cappuccino. Let’s go to Jolivere’s.”

  “Hoo lawd, please,” Jocko groaned from his aquarium. “All this talking is making my head pound.”

  I made a face at the aquarium but got up to grab my bag.

  * * *

  Once we were settled in the courtyard of our favorite restaurant and all had Bloody Marys, I went over the events of the past few days, telling them all that I knew, which really wasn’t much more than what I’d already told them.

  “I don’t like any of this,” Violet said, then took a long drink of her cocktail.

  Iris nodded. “I think you have to tell someone. You’ve gotten yourself into some sort of mess that could go really, really bad.”

  I didn’t disagree. “Who can I tell?”

  They both fell silent. Clearly, they had no solutions either.

  “Maybe you could tell Baba Yaga,” Violet suggested, making a face that said she wasn’t sure that was a wise idea either. “She would know what to do, I bet.” She took another drink of her Bloody Mary.

  That idea made me take a drink, too.

  Iris shook her head. “I don’t know. Witches hate rougarous. And rougarous hate witches. This could blow up into some kind of war or something.”

  I hadn’t even considered that what I had done could cause a potential conflict. And didn’t want a group of angry, marauding witches, trying to hurt my rougarou. I mean, he wasn’t my rougarou, but I still felt responsible for him. After all, he was trying to protect me. I should look out for him, too.

  I must have looked panicked, because Violet reached out to squeeze my hand. “She will also know you did a good thing by healing a rougarou. And now he’s trying to help you.”

  “You believe me?” I said.

  They both nodded.

  I loved my sisters. I told them the craziest story ever and they still had my back.

  “Baba Yaga is bound to know at some point. She knows everything,” Iris pointed out.

  “And you did a good thing,” Violet repeated. “You saved a life. How can Baba Yaga be angry about that?”

  That was true. But who knew how Baba Yaga would see it. She might see me as some sort of traitor. Helping the enemy.

  “And I don’t want to add to your stress. But you are being followed again,” Iris said, nodding to a table behind me.

  I didn’t even bother to look back. “I told you those boys are harmless.”

  “It’s not the teens,” Iris said, still eyeing the other table. “These guys look like real scumbags.”

  I tried to subtly glance over my shoulder. Not that it really mattered. The three men at the table behind us made no attempt to disguise that they were watching us. They all appeared in their twenties, in leather jackets and black jeans. They looked like greasy hoodlums from some 50s movie.

  I looked back to my sisters. “Are you sure they are following us?”

  Iris nodded. “I saw them as soon as we left your place, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

  I glanced at them again. “What’s up with them? They look like they are about to audition for West Side Story.”

  “Maybe for an all prison inmate version of the show,” Iris said wryly.

  Violet laughed, but I could tell she was nervous.

  My upbeat mood from this morning vanished. What if the J-Team tried to confront these guys. I didn’t want my boys hurt. I had to get help—and soon.

  The rest of our lunch was stilted, as the greasy jerks just blatantly watched us.

  “Mally, what have you gotten yourself into?” Violet said as we left our table, our favorite lunches only half-eaten.

  “I wish I knew,” I admitted.

  “I guess you are going to have to talk to Baba Yaga,” Iris said, watching as the greasy creeps followed. They lingered several feet behind us, but they were definitely following.

  I sighed. “Yeah, I am.” I didn’t see a better solution. Baba Yaga would find out what was going on. I just hoped I didn’t find myself in hot water, too.

  “I say we call off the rest of this outing. I can conjure some shoes to match my dress,” Violet said.

  “Agreed,” Iris said, and she was never one to miss a shopping opportunity. “I’m totally weirded out.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  Violet pulled out her phone. “And we are taking an Uber to my place.” She tapped the app, then paused to look at me. “But we are going to your place first to get your stuff for the ball. And your little butthead of a familiar. You are spending the night with me.”

  “I don’t want to put you in danger,” I said, although I had to admit being alone was becoming less appealing by the moment. I glanced back to see the thugs stood several feet away, their squinty eyes watching.

  “Oh, I’ll zap anyone who comes near my house,” Violet stated with more venom than I’d heard from her. Iris was usually the feisty one.

  “Okay,” I agreed. I couldn’t deny I needed all the help I could get right now.

  Chapter Six

  “Mally, you look stunning,” Violet exclaimed as I stepped out of her guest bathroom.

  I self-consciously smoothed the glittery dress, but then pivoted my hips to make the tassels on the hemline swish and the beadwork sparkle.

  Violet laughed and clapped her hands. “Sassy, girl, sassy.”

  My whole look with kiss curls sculpted against my cheeks and the headband holding my side-parted hair in place was so far from my usual style, I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. But when I’d finished, I looked pretty authentically flapper. I kept my smoky eyes but traded my signature red lips for a more subtle mauve. I had to admit, I did feel pretty glamorous.

  Unfortunately, I was having a hard time enjoying my fun, new look, because it meant the time was here, and I was dreading the ball more than ever.

  How was I going to tell Baba Yaga that I healed a rougarou, which was impossible? Or that I was being followed by—well, so many people. Or that a gator Shifter wanted to abduct me. Or worse. And I had no idea why. If our esteemed witch leader thought I was a freak before, this was going to clinch the deal.

  But as much as I so didn’t want to do any of this, I knew something had to be done. I was in over my head, but at least my head was adorned in a fabulous flapper headband. Thanks to the J-Team. So, there was that.

  “You look fabulous, too,” I said, managing to sound calmer than I felt.

  My sister could have been a Grecian goddess in her pale lavender, satin gown that clung to her lithe curves. The deep v-neckline hinted at just the right amount of cleavage and her red hair was piled into loose curls around her lovely face. Sexy and demure all at once.

  “I love your hair. It looks just perfect. How did you learn to do that?” she asked. I knew Violet saw—and probably felt—my nerves and she was trying to distract me. I appreciated it.

  “Google.” I laughed. “Thank the Goddess for “how to” videos.” Since I couldn’t just magically whip up a hairstyle.

  “Well, I think the car is here. I guess we better go,” she said, sounding like we were headed off to my death sentence. I was pretty sure death wouldn’t be a possible outcome, but I had to admit, I was afraid of what Baba Yaga might do. I didn’t even know if healing a rougarou was legal. It certainly wasn’t natural. I didn’t want to end up in the witch pokey. I’d heard witch jail was not fun. Although, I’d be safe from my stalkers there. So, that would be one perk.

  “I just have to grab Jocko.” I headed to her guest bedroom.

  He waited on the dresser in a clear, acrylic ball purse that looked more mod 60s than Great Gatsby 20s, but I could make it work. At least, Jocko was sober. He had even donned a black bow tie around his thick, little neck for the occasion.

  He gave a low whistle as I walked toward him. “Hoo lawd, aint you a hot tamale.”

  That was high praise coming from my crusty, little familiar.


  “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

  “Merci.” Maybe he was actually going to be on good behavior tonight. “So, do you think they will have that good witch punch this year? I got the best buzz from that stuff.”

  Or not.

  I lifted the purse to glare at him. “Baba Yaga is going to be there tonight, and if you embarrass me, I swear…” He dropped an antenna, looking hurt. I sighed. “All right, you can have some punch. If they have it. But you are cut off after two.”

  His eyes lit up, and he raised a claw in salute. “Crawfish’s honor.”

  I made a face. I was pretty sure crawfish’s honor wasn’t a thing. I grabbed my cell phone, wallet, and Jocko, then headed back to the living room. Violet waited at the door with her familiar, Benedict. His inky black fur was smooth and glossy. He looked as polished as his owner.

  “I say, Miss Mally, you look absolutely smashing.”

  Violet would get the charming familiar with a jaunty English accent and proper manners.

  “Thank you, Benedict.” I shot an irritated glance at my foul-mouthed lush. He lounged back against the side of my ball purse, picking something out of one of his swimmerets. He inspected whatever it was, then popped it in his mouth. I grimaced. This night was going to be a disaster. I could feel it.

  I handed Violet my cell and wallet. “Do you mind putting these in your purse? Because…” I lifted my purse. “Mine is full of water.”

  Jocko made a face. Violet took my items, stuffing them in her small clutch.

  A limo waited outside Violet’s beautiful camelback cottage. She only lived a few streets away from my parents, where we would head next to pick up the rest of the gang.

  My parents. I wanted to groan. They were bound to find out about my situation tonight, too. More nerves made my hands tremble. Jocko sloshes around a bit more than normal, but to my surprise, he didn’t complain. He was just playing nice for the punch.

  Everyone waited on the porch as we pulled up, all looking witchitastic. Mom went with her usual floral gown, flowy and delightfully Green Witch. Boho chic at its best. Her white fox, Serena was draped over her shoulders as a live stole.

  Iris looked like a vintage Hollywood starlet, her wild beach waves tamed into stylish finger curls and her dress the same color as her blue eyes, off the shoulder and form-fitting. She was sans familiar. Agatha, her crow, didn’t like to be caged in any way. She would likely make an appearance, but would stay outside in a nearby tree, just watching the festivities. I envied her. Free as a bird. I could get down with that.

  All the men wore perfectly tailored suits with velvet jackets in jewel tones. JR wore green to match the accents of my mother’s gorgeous dress. Ghede wore burgundy and Sam wore a deep sapphire blue. I had to admit the Jourdain family was ready to make an entrance. Hopefully, that would earn us some points with Baba Yaga. I needed all the help I could get.

  Everyone, except for me, of course, could have just materialized into the ball, but we always took a limo to the event. Partly because my mother knew if they went without me, I probably wouldn’t show at all, but Mom also liked the drama of exiting the limo. Her witchy version of walking the red carpet.

  Soon everyone was situated inside the fully loaded stretch limousine.

  “Mally, is that you?” Sam said, his eyes wide as he took in my attire.

  I smirked at him.

  “You just look so beautiful,” Mom gushed, looping an arm around me and squeezing enthusiastically. Her cornflower blue eyes got misty. Really? Did I normally look so bad?

  “Just gorgeous, Mally-Cat.” JR leaned forward from his spot seated across from me. He also pulled me into a tight hug. Their joy was making me feel worse.

  I attempted to cast a questioning look at my siblings from where JR had me crushed against his chest and shoulder. My sisters and brothers watched, clearly as bewildered by their reaction as I was.

  “Let’s have some champagne,” Ghede said, holding up a chilled bottle from the ice buckets built into the limo wall. He subtly winked at me as everyone’s attention switched to passing around champagne flutes.

  I shot him a silent look of thanks.

  He popped the cork and started filling glasses.

  “To the wonderful night ahead.” JR said, raising his champagne.

  Everyone toasted and I noticed my mother’s eyes were teary again. Was this some kind of hormonal thing? Did witches go through menopause? I should probably know if they did.

  I guess I just needed to resign myself to the fact this was going to be a weird night. I downed my whole glass and held it out for more. Ghede raised an eyebrow but poured me a refill.

  “Hey, can’t a guy get a glass too?” Jocko called out. I shoved my purse behind me and took a long sip of the sparkling liquid.

  It was a short drive to the mansion where the ball was held every year. The elegant, southern style building was set right on the edge of Bayou St. John and nestled among magnolias and ancient oaks. It was hard to believe we were still in the city.

  As gorgeous as the building was, that was just a magical facade for the benefit of the humans in the neighborhood. Once the double doors opened, we entered basically a palace. Marble columns and floors. Ornate fresco murals on the walls and gilded molding around the high ceilings. And chandeliers. Over a dozen of them. The crystals cast prisms of golden light through the enormous rooms. The ballroom proper had a balcony and two sweeping marble staircases that led down to the giant dance floor. It was like something out of a fairytale.

  If I could just wander around and explore the beautiful place, I’d be thrilled. It was amazing. But the ballroom was already filled with witches and warlocks from all over Louisiana. A menagerie of familiars mingled amongst the crowd. Literal magic filled the air that even I could feel.

  And tonight, the ballroom was even more extra.

  “How can you take this beautiful place and manage to make it look like a tacky 80s prom?” Ghede whispered to me, staring down on the room.

  I gawked around me, wondering the same thing. But the Samhain Ball committee had done just that. The marble columns were completely covered in spiraling rows of gold, silver and white balloons. An arch of the same color balloons was placed on the balcony like an 80s prom photo op. Streamers draped from the doorways and from one chandelier to the next. Silver and gold foil stars hung from the ceiling. It was like a scene out of Pretty in Pink.

  And the piece de resistance, the servers were dressed like rejects from the cast of Starlight Express, right down the bedazzled shoulder pads and roller skates.

  “Oh, dear Goddess,” my mother said under her breath.

  We all stood speechless for a moment longer, and I had a faint hope that we might just turn around and leave. Then JR took my mother’s arm, and they began to descend the stairs, just as the deejay turned up the music and Boy George began to declare he would tumble for us.

  “I guess we should have gotten that pink dress with the bows after all,” Iris mumbled as we followed our parents.

  “I know that a lot of witches really suck up to Baba Yaga, but this is crazy,” Sam said as a Starlight Express server skated up and held out a tray of Sloppy Joe sliders. Sam accepted a napkin and took one. He shrugged approvingly after he took a bite.

  Another server, who looked like a disco robot skated up, offering pizza rolls. Even though my stomach was in knots, I took one, because, hey, I can always eat. Even the 80s version of appetizers.

  Some witches and warlocks already danced. One was voguing.

  “This is nuts,” Violet said, shaking her head with amazement.

  Yes, it was. And I, at the risk of sounding like my crawfish, needed a drink.

  I headed to the refreshment table, which was laden with ice filled buckets of different beverages and a giant, eight tier, illuminated champagne fountain. Pale green liquid splashed down over the different levels.

  “Gooseberry Moon Punch” Jocko gasped, his claws and face pressed to the side of
the purse like a kid peering in the window of a candy store. “Gimme. Gimme.”

  He squished around, finding his Barbie mug in the plastic castle I’d put in there for him.

  Rolling my eyes, I opened my purse and took the tiny mug. Looking around to be sure no one was watching, I quickly filled it, trying not to get the punch on my fingers.

  I gave the mug back to him and he clutched it to his chest.

  I shook my head but filled a glass for myself. I was going to need liquid courage myself tonight.

  “Did you see these?” Iris said, shoving something in my face. “Ecto Cooler.”

  I stared at the brightly colored rectangle, realizing it was a juice box. Slimer from Ghostbusters grinned back at me. “Where did they find those? Weren’t they discontinued like twenty years ago? They are taking this 80s theme super serious.”

  Iris nodded and then plunged the straw into the foil-covered hole on the top of the box. I grimaced as she took a sip.

  “Did it age well?”

  She nodded happily. “The same high-fructose corn syrup deliciousness I remember.”

  Violet appeared holding a Bartles and Jaymes wine cooler. Again, did they even make those anymore? And how old were they, if they didn’t? I hoped some witch conjured these vintage beverages, otherwise we had the potential for a lot of food poisoning going on later in the evening. The Healer witches might want to stand on alert.

  I sipped my punch, having to admit it was tasty. And strong. And hopefully, freshly made.

  “Hello, ladies.” A group of witches we knew from witch school approached us. Even witches had their packs of mean girls. And this clique was the worst.

  “Hello Gwyneth,” Violet said, managing to sound friendlier than I would have.

  “Don’t you all look nice.” Gwyneth smiled, or really sneered. I’m not sure she actually knew how to smile. Her gaze landed on me. “And little Malachite. You look absolutely fetching. It’s nice to see you out of your frumpy black.”

  I smiled sweetly back, then eyed her gown, which looked like she ordered it from Frederick’s of Hollywood. Perhaps also sticking to the 80s theme. “And it's nice to see you still look desperate.”