Don’t Stop Bewitching_A Happily Everlasting Series World Novel Page 5

She entered the back office and glanced around. There was no sign of Ms. Cherry. The restroom door was standing wide open and the light was off. The back door to the shop was closed, bolted from the inside.

  A hand fell upon her shoulder and Missi nearly leapt out of her skin. She spun around and touched her upper chest as she looked at Ms. Cherry, positive her heart was going to pop clean out of her. “Jumping jellybeans!”

  Ms. Cherry’s eyes widened. “Mississippi, heavens to Betsey. You’re jumpier than a frog on a lily pad in a pond full of gators.”

  “You startled me,” she managed, feeling foolish. “Do you need any help with anything?”

  “Oh goddess, no. I know my way around this shop like the back of my hand. I’ve been comin’ here since I was knee-high, and your grandmother ran it. Then I was a loyal customer all through the decades your momma was in charge,” Ms. Cherry said, moving over to the candles that Missi had only just restocked. She lifted a seven-day black ritual candle, bringing it to her nose and smelling it.

  Some thought black candles always meant black magic, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. In fact, black candles were often used to rid negative energy from an area, for protection, to clear a space, to cleanse auras, and more, not just stress and chaos.

  “These are new,” said Ms. Cherry. “They smell amazin’ and the magic infused in them has a touch of whimsy.”

  She was right. They were a newer version of the black candles Beatrice normally made. “Bee swears they’re better.”

  “Oh, I bet they are. She is so gifted,” replied Ms. Cherry. She then began to look over the new white seven-day candles as well. “I’ll take one of each. I’ll need a green, red, and purple as well. Can’t very well be gettin’ one without the other.”

  Missi went to an endcap and retrieved a basket. She carried it to Ms. Cherry and handed it to her.

  Ms. Cherry took it and placed the candles she wanted within it.

  “Looking to dress the candles with anything in particular?” asked Missi.

  Dressing a candle by way of rubbing it with specific oils helped to increase the candle’s power and intention. Missi prided herself on her homemade oils. She spent hours poring over recipes and trying various combinations. Spells and potions came naturally to her.

  Ms. Cherry paused, seeming reluctant to comment further. “Have you made any new attraction oils lately? The ones you did around the Yule were wonderful.”

  “I have.” Missi went to the shelves full of oils and found what Ms. Cherry was looking for. “I think you’re going to really like the updated formula I’m using. But I’d suggest going with a smaller amount than normal for any spell work. The new makeup of it all really goes a long way with just a little.”

  “My philosophy is the more the merrier,” responded Ms. Cherry. “Tell me, Mississippi, you didn’t happen to hear that ruckus the other night, did you?”

  Ms. Cherry lived a few doors down from the magic shop. Since Missi lived above the shop that meant they were neighbors. Two houses were between them. One belonged to the man who owned the iron factory and the other belonged to a former pirate. Both of whom tended to be very quiet neighbors. “No. I didn’t hear anything for the last few nights. The new tea I put together is for sleep and I’ve been testing it all week. Worked too well if I say so myself. I’m going to need to tweak it a touch. Had Winston not woken me, I’m sure I’d still be asleep.”

  At the mention of Missi’s familiar, who happened to be a parrot, Ms. Cherry beamed. “How is Winston doin’? He hasn’t made any great escapes lately, so I’ve not seen him. Toil and Trouble always keep a close watch out the window. You know how much they like to chase poor Winston.”

  Missi cringed inwardly. Actually, it was Winston who chased the cats. There was nothing more embarrassing than knowing your familiar was a bully. “He’s doing well. He is no longer whistling classic rock songs. Remind me to thank York for that again.”

  Ms. Cherry laughed. “York cares for you, as a brother should. He’s different from Louis and Arizona. Louis has no issue sharin’ his feelings. Arizona, when he’s home, is loud in every aspect of his life. That includes makin’ his thoughts and feelings known. York is more like your father than the other two. He keeps his emotions tucked away like a squirrel with a nut. Thinks it’s not manly to make ’em known. That’s hogwash.”

  Missi agreed but had long since given up trying to change her brother.

  Ms. Cherry eyed her. “When I ran into your mother last week, she said Arizona wasn’t plannin’ to come home for Founder’s Day. That so?”

  Arizona, her oldest sibling, had decided small town Southern life wasn’t for him. He’d gone off to see the world and sent postcards home every week. That had been the only real communication they’d had with him in months. Missi knew it bothered their mother, so much so their father was close to tracking the boy down and dragging him home by his ear.

  “I haven’t talked to him about Founder’s Day. I think York has. I’ll ask when I see York later today,” said Missi, wanting to get off the subject.

  “What about Georgia? You talk with her lately?”

  Georgia was Missi’s oldest sister. She no longer resided in Hedgewitch Cove either. “No. She and Louis talk a lot though. So, what ruckus happened the other night?”

  Ms. Cherry leaned in as if someone might overhear. “There was a lot of hollerin’ and carrin’ on before there was a big boom. It shook my house. Now, I’m not one to gossip, but I could have sworn Blackbeard and Mr. Flanks were the ones doing the yellin’. But I didn’t see so I can’t really say for certain. I’m sure there’s a story there. I’m shocked you didn’t hear it or feel it. I’m goin’ to need a bag of that tea.”

  Missi hadn’t heard a thing. The men she mentioned had a history of disagreements. They argued over everything from Blackbeard’s choice of businesses to the shared fence on their lot line. It had never come to blows or booms before, that she was aware. “Blackbeard normally stops by the shop on his day’s off. He didn’t do that this week.”

  “I haven’t seen him around since all the commotion. But you know how moody he can get. Pirates,” said Ms. Cherry with a sigh.

  She was right. Blackbeard did tend to get moody. Most thought he was gruff. Missi knew better.

  Ms. Cherry glanced at the oils. “Have any more of that suppression one you made last summer?”

  Nodding, Missi opened the bottom cabinet portion of the shelving unit and looked around for the oil in question. She found a small glass jar and stood. She hesitated before handing over the oils.

  Ms. Cherry came from a line of witches who didn’t have the best in the way of reputations. She and her sisters all still resided in town despite whispers that they were as their ancestors had been, up to no good. And while the notion was absurd that she was anything like the witches of old, it was hard to ignore the feeling Missi was getting. Could it be that Ms. Cherry was working with dark magic?

  It wasn’t against the law per se, and dabbling in the dark arts didn’t mean one was necessarily evil. Missi had once been asked to help with a spell that fell over the line but it had been for a good reason. It was for a town newcomer who’d needed help controlling his newly developed shifter side. Since his shifter form had taken lives, the spell needed to help him gain initial control over it, in order to then learn to do so naturally. It had required a bit more power than normal. Dark magic was brought in, but it had been for a greater good.

  That wasn’t always the case. It just depended on how the dark magic was used. If it was to kill someone, then yes, that was illegal. But there were a lot of gray areas within the realm of magic and supernaturals. This was shaping up to be one of those. “I know better than anyone that it’s impolite to ask about what spell another witch is working on, but is there anything I can help with?”

  “Oh no, sugar. I’ve got it covered. But thank you for the offer.”

  With that, Missi nodded and headed back to the counter. She busied herself with s
ome light cleaning while Ms. Cherry continued to fill her hand basket.

  The door to the shop opened again and Jasmine Harris peeked in. Her long, curly hair was down today and looked amazing. Her dark gaze found Missi and she smiled. “I know you’re not open just yet. I’m here on town council business.”

  Missi eyed her longtime friend. She’d gone to school with Jasmine and had known the woman since they were babies. Jasmine’s mother was a voodoo priestess and her father was a were-panther, who was also the high school football coach. Her mother ran a daycare that was next to the school and always had a full house. Everyone loved her mom. The town loved her father so long as the football team was winning. Since it was the South, they took football very seriously.

  “Oh no. Please don’t tell me that Barnebas is trying to get another vote to force me to sell the lot behind me so he can expand the post office.”

  Jasmine clicked her tongue on her inner cheek and hurried towards the counter with a clipboard in hand. “It’s worse.”

  Worse than the local mailman campaigning to take her property for the post office? The man had been trying for two straight years. He’d even commissioned billboards. She’d tried hard to talk him into looking at property out near the wooded section of town, but he wouldn’t hear of any such thing. It probably didn’t help that the woods were known as a dangerous area and had a long, ugly past.

  Jasmine handed Missi the clipboard. “I read your cards this morning and you’re about to have some major changes in your life. My spirit guides are telling me that there is some loophole with that back lot and someone, not Barnebas, has an interest in it. I did some digging and it turns out there is some rich big shot from out of town who has his eye on it. Wants to develop it commercially. Sign here. I’m starting a petition to stop it.”

  “You’re getting signatures to stop something from happening that hasn’t even started yet?” asked Missi, signing her full name on the form. Surprisingly, Jasmine already had a full sheet of names and the day had only just started.

  “You bet your bottom dollar I am. When I learned about it all, it made me angrier than a puffed toad,” said Jasmine proudly.

  “I love that you worry about me,” said Missi. “But I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  Jasmine didn’t look convinced. “I’ve been sensing something off with your aura. This must be it.”

  Missi shook her head and laughed.

  “Yuck it up now, but when some random guy comes out of nowhere and gets his hands on your back lot, you’ll be sorry. That sounded dirty. But you know what I mean.”

  Missi rolled her eyes playfully. “I’ll stand my ground. No big shot is running over me.”

  “Good girl,” said Jasmine. “Okay, I’m off to get more signatures. I plan to make Barnebas sign. Trust me, if he can’t have the lot, he won’t want anyone else to either.”

  That sounded about right.

  “Goddess willing and the creek don’t rise, I’ll get this stopped before it gets started,” said Jasmine as she waved and rushed out of the shop.

  “Was that Jasmine I just heard?” asked Ms. Cherry from the back of the store.

  “Yes, ma’am. She’s gathering signatures to stop my back lot from falling into some unknown rich person’s hands because of a loophole.”

  Ms. Cherry appeared with a full basket in hand. “Well, we can’t let that happen. You have the best garden back there. Tell me who I need to curse. Want him to have the pox or stop breathin’ for good?”

  Missi stiffened.

  A strange expression moved over the woman’s face. “Sugar, I was only kiddin’. I don’t curse people…anymore.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” said Missi quickly, wanting to get off the subject of curses. “I put out new sage bundles. I have small ones. I know you like them.”

  Cherry went right for the display containing the bundled sage. “Your mother’s sage is simply the best for cleansings. I don’t know how Murielle does it, but I’ve never found better. Every herb she grows is simply perfect. Honestly, every one of you Caillat witches are so talented with the craft.”

  “Thank you. Momma will be pleased to hear you like her sage. You know how she’s been worried about the newest shop in the French Quarter opening.”

  “No self-respectin’ member of the community would be caught dead there. That is a tourist trap. It won’t be long before the legit magic shops and practitioners there drive that bogus one out.” Ms. Cherry placed three small bundles of sage on the counter and then set her full basket there as well. She glanced at a small tray full of travel-size banishing oils. She took four and set them with her other items.

  Missi lifted a brow, having seen the woman purchase the exact items not long back. “Ms. Cherry, you wouldn’t be planning on banishing Rockey again, would you?”

  She blushed, touched her necklaces, and made a big production of staring around the shop. “Oh, are those new essential oils?”

  “Ms. Cherry,” stressed Missi.

  Ms. Cherry sighed. “Fine. Yes. That old goat is makin’ fun of my actin’ again.”

  “Your acting is amazing,” said Missi, though in truth it wasn’t the best. It came from the heart and that was really all that mattered.

  “Who is he to judge me? So what if he had a run on an off-off-Broadway show nearly seventy years ago?” She huffed. “I shouldn’t have to be subjected to him because he had a sandbag fall on his head while on stage how many years ago? There are days I wonder if someone wasn’t aimin’ for him. If he lectures me one more time on the finer points of Shakespeare, I swear I won’t be held accountable for my actions. He’s a Midsummer’s Night Nightmare.”

  Rockey Bigelow considered himself something of a celebrity and didn’t let the town forget. Every chance he could, he proudly declared himself to be a Shakespearean trained actor with stage experience. It would have been easier to swallow if he didn’t sound like he was starring in The Sopranos. Somehow, a mobster accent didn’t really lend itself to serious stage productions.

  That didn’t stop Rockey.

  Neither did death. He was no longer a member of the living. It was hard to get the world to see your acting genius when they couldn’t actually see you. He’d been the star of a play that had passed through the local theater seventy years ago, and an unfortunate backdrop incident left him an eternal resident of the town.

  Hedgewitch Cove considered itself one of the most haunted towns in the world. Missi had never really looked more into it, but she had to think the claim wasn’t that far off base. Rockey, unlike some of the spirits who called the town home, wasn’t bound to one location. He could roam about freely within the town limits. And from the expression on Ms. Cherry’s face, he’d been hanging at the theater again.

  Missi almost felt bad for the woman. Still, banishing wasn’t the answer. Rockey was annoying, but that was taking it to the extreme.

  “Ms. Cherry, the last time you banished him from the theater we had to sit through a four-hour-long town council meeting, hearing arguments from both sides, vote, tally said votes, and then three different covens, along with Blackbeard, had to help lift the spell,” Missi said, offering a warm smile in an attempt to get Ms. Cherry to see reason. The entire banishing fiasco of the year before was still talked about by the coffee crew, who made gossiping outside the barbershop a sport. “Maybe you and Rockey should consider some counseling rather than this.”

  She jutted out her chin and tapped the counter. “He started it this time.”

  “What happened?”

  “He had the nerve to make a pipe burst in the ceiling above me as I was teachin’ a class about the finer points of Shakespeare,” said Ms. Cherry, reaching up and touching her hair. “There is nothin’ like helpin’ someone find their motivation one second and being drenched the next. You’d think he was Fate’s gift to thespians with the way he carries on. And you ever heard of Shakespeare performed by a man from New Jersey? He sounds like a mobster when he talks, not Puck. I swear, th
at man lives to annoy me. I warned him that I’d snatch him bald if he didn’t stop. He laughed.”

  Missi bit her lower lip. Her mother had told her once that the man had ties to the Mafia back in the day and it was rumored that the backdrop misfortune wasn’t an accident at all. Missi didn’t pry further. “Um, he doesn’t live at all. I think he might miss being a contributing member of society. Maybe having him assist in teaching a few classes would help that. Have you ever considered it?”

  She looked appalled at the proposition.

  Missi sighed and rang up the items before bagging them. It was too much to hope for peace between Rockey and Ms. Cherry. They’d been at each other’s throats for far too long.

  Ms. Cherry handed her cash and then paused, pushing her yellow glasses up her nose. “Somethin’ has changed about you. What is it?”

  Missi watched the woman. “Nothing that I’m aware of.”

  Ms. Cherry glanced around the shop and the edges of her mouth drew upwards. In the next instant, the woman was behind the counter and hugging Missi tight, smashing her necklaces against Missi in the process. “Oh bless you, sugar! I’m so happy for you both!”

  “Um, thank you?” Missi wasn’t sure what she was being hugged for.

  Ms. Cherry released her only to hug her again, this time tearing up. “Oh, young love does a heart good.”

  “Young love?” asked Missi with a slight yelp. She was not in love. She wasn’t even in like. In fact, she was about as far from love as one could get. She did not have a boyfriend or a special man friend.

  Missi had once fallen for the charms of an out-of-towner who had been visiting Hedgewitch Cove on holiday. He’d raced into town in an expensive foreign car, had been dressed in fancy, expensive clothes, and had a smile that could charm the coldest of hearts.

  He also had an eye for other women and no desire to call Hedgewitch Cove home for life. Each time they’d argue about it, the guy would show up with flowers and jewelry. He’d thought money solved everything.

  It didn’t fix shallow and materialistic.

  Missi had learned her lesson with the guy and had sworn off rich men from that point forward. They were nothing but trouble.