Spell For Sophia (9 page)

My mind churned. I was pretty certain Yemaya and I occupied opposite ends of the socio-economic scale. We didn't even attend the same high school. Why was she surprised we hadn't met before?

Her gaze dropped to my face. I'm not sure what she read in my eyes. Her mouth opened slightly and her expression softened from listen-here-Miss-Moneybags to we-have-more-in-common-than-you-think. I shifted in the leather seat.

Yemaya's gaze swept the other faces in the room before hopscotching from the tote to the air above my head, then to my shoulder. The dragon removed its claw. Yemaya's lips edged upward into a smirk. "So, which one of you trapped a whole lot of angry mojo in the bag?"

"Did you tell her?" Evie asked Aidan.

"No. It's like I said. She sees things."

"Speaking of which…" Yemaya leaned forward and sketched a serpentine movement in the air from Aidan's heart to the top of his head. "Glad to see you are demon-less."

Aidan exhaled a long breath. "Yeah. Me, too."

Salem narrowed her eyes at Yemaya. "You know anything about voodoo?"

Yemaya pushed down on the armrests and eased herself back in the chair. Her gaze dropped to the tote and then darted from one side of the room to the other. "Yeah. Maybe. Why?"

I swiveled my chair toward her. "Can you keep a secret?"

One of Yemaya's eyebrows twitched above her striking blue-gray eyes. She sat up straighter. "Of course I can. Unless you broke the law, in which case count me out."

"We didn't break any laws," Evie assured her.

"At least not regarding this," Aidan amended.

"Then we're cool." Yemaya stroked one of her long, wheat-colored dreadlocks.

"Promise whatever we tell you won't leave this room," I insisted.

"I promise. So what's up?"

"Inside the tote is an ancient grimoire. Its appearance and magical content keeps changing."

"It can be rather volatile," Salem added. "But until now, it seemed—"

"To kind of be on our side," Evie finished when she hesitated.

"But now?" Yemaya asked.

I shook my head. "Not so much. The grimoire emits swamp smells and the cover now resembles alligator hide. The only magic we could think of associated with bayous was voodoo."

Aidan leaned forward, his tone soothing. "Evie has no magic. Salem knows Wicca one-oh-one —"

"Hey!" Salem knocked against him, an offended dragonfly trying to topple a stallion.

"I'm not sure my magic is strong enough either," Aidan continued. "But you bristle with power."

"Thank you." Yemaya's expression brightened. The muscles in her face relaxed. She's like Salem, I realized. Once you stripped away her defensive demeanor, her beauty shined through. She squared her shoulders. Her mesmerizing eyes did a slow roll toward the dragon and me. "But you forgot Ainslie."

"I'm new to the group," I explained. "But the spell book morphed under my watch, and I think its latest incarnation has something to do with my friend's disappearance."

"It's complicated," Evie added.

A pained expression flitted over Yemaya's face, then vanished. She clasped her hands together. Almost every finger bore two rings, some linked together by a short chain. "What happened to your friend?"

"Sophia was in foster care." I stopped and cleared my throat. "I think her meth-head parents kidnapped her."

"If her parents are into methamphetamine, chances are…" Yemaya's voice trailed off.

Anxiety corseted the air from my chest. "I
know
she is still alive. Sophia appeared in a crystal ball when the spell book transformed."

"Okay. I believe you." Yemaya glanced down at the tote. "Do you think the grimoire will lead you to her?"

"I hope so. All the conventional means I have tried failed." I dug my nails into my palm. Stirring up old memories triggered my anxiety. Panic eddied around my legs. Soon it would spiral up and clog my throat. I'd start gasping for air.
In their eyes, I'll become Crazy Girl again.

Yemaya frowned up at the space above my head, raised her hands, and signed an upside-down U with her forefingers. The dragon energy shifted behind me. Warmth cascaded over my head. My shoulders and hands relaxed. The anxiety drifted away.

"Will you help us?" Evie asked.

Yemaya sank back in her chair. "I'm a shaman. I work with spirit guides, plants, candles, and stones. White magic. I swore when I left New Orleans I'd put as much pavement as possible between voodoo and me."

"But you could help us if you wanted to?" I pressed.

"Probably." Yemaya pushed away from the table and stood. "Look, I'm sorry about your friend. I hope you find her soon." She shouldered her seventies-era hippie bag, mouthed
sorry
to Aidan, and headed for the door.

My heart sped up and adrenaline-fueled heat flushed my skin. "Wait."

Yemaya paused and glanced back, her expression a mask of regret and determination. My legs trembled as I stood. "I have a proposition."

Chapter Nine

Yemaya sighed and pushed back her sleeve, revealing a copper spiral wrist cuff. "What's your proposition?"

"We don't know for sure whether voodoo is involved, right?"

She angled her head at me. "I guess."

"So help us determine what kind of magic we're dealing with. And in exchange, I will take you to the mall and buy you any pair of boots you want. Your feet can be dry and toasty before the next rain storm."

"How do you propose I make the determination?"

"Open the grimoire."

"Because there is no risk in looking." Sarcasm tinged Yemaya's words. "Didn't the spell book just try to burn down the library?"

As if on cue, a battalion of firefighters in the main room hustled past the conference room window.

"Please," Evie pleaded. "We have no one else to turn to."

Yemaya's shoulders sagged and her eyes rolled upward. "If I open the book and give it a quick glance, you'll buy me any pair of boots I want? No matter the cost?"

"Yes." I held my breath.

Yemaya extended her hand. "Okay. Deal."

I gritted my teeth. My obsessive-compulsive disorder screamed inside my head.
Run to the bathroom and wash your hands!
Dragon energy crackled down my arm. "Deal." I clasped Yemaya's hand and we both sprung back from the magical jolt.

"You two okay?" Worry edged Evie's voice.

"Fine," Yemaya and I said in unison.

Yemaya lowered her voice. "I can't open the grimoire here. It's too dangerous. Any of you live nearby?"

"My apartment is within walking distance," Aidan volunteered. "My aunt is attending a lecture in the city, so we're cool."

My Stone Age flip phone — my punishment for accidentally killing my top-of-the-line smartphone with disinfectant — beeped. I fished it out of my handbag and checked the screen. "Sorry," I told the group. "It's my mother. I need to let her know I'll be a little late."

I opened the text.
May go to a three-twenty movie. Can you finish by two?

I checked the time. I had about an hour.
Sure. Remind me, ok?

Mom replied:
Will do.

I closed the phone and stashed it in my handbag. When I glanced up, everyone was watching me. "Sorry." I fought back the urge to duck into the restroom and wash my hands. I didn't want to insult Yemaya or give her a chance to change her mind. So I clenched my teeth, retrieved my gloves, and squeezed my germy magic-singed hands into them.

Everyone stood. I shrugged into my jacket and slung my handbag strap over my head. Salem snatched the tote and cast a squint-eyed, I'm-watching-you glance at Yemaya. Aidan led us out the main entrance. Instead of using the ramp, he clasped Salem's hand and headed for the concrete steps leading to Mount Diablo Boulevard.
Right. Left. Sidewalk.
We veered left and hiked toward the wood-shingled apartments on Moraga Road.

When I had attended Carter Middle School, kids from the apartments trended on the social ladder far below the trust-funders from Happy Valley. Sophia had lived in them for a short while and never told anyone but me her address. But when Aidan opened the door to his two-bedroom walk-up, his bearing and broad smile telegraphed tremendous pride.

"Nice!" Yemaya said as she crossed the threshold and beheld the muted walls and jewel-toned furnishings.

Guilt tumbled through me. The living room, dining nook, and galley kitchen — all visible once you stepped inside — would have fit inside my bedroom suite. The common rooms had an artistic Morocco-meets-gypsy-caravan vibe. I spotted nearly a dozen colorful accent pillows just in the living room. Above the blue replica Victorian sofa hung a stunning blue-and-purple goddess altar. I made a mental note to discover the artist and pass his or her name on to Aunt Terra.

"Where should we do this?" Aidan asked.

"I need to stand. You guys can sit and watch. How about the nook?" Yemaya asked.

"Sure," Aidan replied.

We gathered around the small table with its faded jewel-toned patchwork scarf edged in imitation crystal beads. Aidan removed a potted poinsettia and Salem placed the black tote in the center of the table. I draped my jacket and handbag over the chair next to Yemaya. Evie perched on the mismatched seat beside me and slid her laptop and purse under the chair. Aidan rotated the seat on Yemaya's left and swung his leg over it cowboy style. Salem frowned as she claimed the chair between Aidan and Evie.

"Now what?" Evie asked.

"I assume the spell book zapped the electrical outlet in the library?" Yemaya said.

"As soon as we pulled the book from the tote," Evie said. The five of us swiveled in our chairs, locating the nearest electrical outlets.

"Don't do anything that will get us evicted," Aidan warned.

Yemaya rubbed her palms together. "Of course not."

Aidan fingered his frayed cloth bracelet.

Yemaya extracted from her hippie bag a fan made of black feathers and several bags of chamomile tea. "You can scoot back if you want," she told Evie.

Evie blushed two shades deeper than her strawberry-blond hair, but held her ground. I felt the dragon shift so it stood behind both of us. I was tempted to glance sideways at it, but a voice sounded a warning inside my head.
Do, and it will disappear.
I focused instead on Yemaya.

Yemaya swept the feather whisk across the black canvas, then flipped over the tote and swept it again. Next she tore open the tea bags.

"Do you want some salt?" Aidan asked.

"We tried salt, remember?" Evie said. "It didn't work."

"Kosher, no iodine?" Yemaya asked without looking up.

"I'll check."

Yemaya crushed the dried flower heads between her forefinger and thumb then strewed them in a wide circle around the tote. The sweet scent of apples rose from the circle.

While Aidan disappeared into the galley kitchen, I pulled off my leather gloves. He returned in a moment and handed Yemaya a blue container. "It's not kosher, but it's iodine-free."

"Close enough." Yemaya created an outer ring of salt.

"Why two circles?" Salem asked.

"You'll see." Yemaya touched the necklaces she wore over her layered tops — a Victorian-looking cameo with a slate blue background and garnets; a light blue stone reminiscent of the sea; and a shiny black stone, either onyx or jet — on a long cord. Glancing around the table, she exhaled a long breath.

"What are you going to do?" Evie asked.

Yemaya rubbed salt between her palms. "Exactly what I promised. Extract the spell book and see what it contains." She sketched symbols in the air above the tote while she sang in a surprisingly pure, sweet voice. I strained to make out the words — a beguiling mixture of French and maybe Swahili. The dragon energy swayed behind me.

I held my breath as Yemaya reached across the ring of salt. Her singing broke for a few seconds and I thought she might have been zapped. Determination glinted in her eyes. She resumed singing. The French and African chant grew louder, the cadence more urgent. Her hand snaked across the circle of chamomile. If magic zapped her, she didn't react. She snagged the tote's zipper and slowly retracted it.

Evie inched back her chair. Aidan and Salem stiffened like wary wolves. Yemaya's song swelled. Barehanded, she eased the grimoire onto the table. I tightened my grip on my gloves.

The odor of fried shrimp and backwater oozed from the grimoire in a cloying mist. I pushed back my chair, tensed, ready to duck. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Evie point a warning finger at the spell book. The grimoire remained closed, but the pages fluttered.

Yemaya raised one hand heavenward and aimed the other at the spell book. She invoked an unfamiliar name. Then, striking like a cobra, she flipped open the grimoire. The room erupted with exotic bird twitters and shrills. With three flutters of the black feather whisk, she banished the mist. I shifted to the edge of my seat and peered at the sepia page. An elaborate scrollwork symbol — a drawn sigil of some sort — filled the upper half of the paper.

The pages fluttered as though blown by a nonexistent wind. New pages opened, revealing their contents just long enough for Yemaya to skim her hand above the writings and symbols before the breeze stirred again. Her lips moved as she read. Some snippets she whispered aloud in oddly accented French. I caught a word here and there, but otherwise my AP French failed me.

The pages flipped again, exposing two sheets from the second half of the book. Yemaya gasped and clutched her cameo. The birdcalls halted. Wild-eyed, Yemaya lowered her arms and glanced over her shoulder. The grimoire slammed shut.

I shrieked. Not because of the spell book, but because of the sudden appearance of a dripping-wet black girl levitating behind Yemaya.

Chapter Ten

"What is it?" Evie screamed. She backed away, not waiting for an answer. I knew from her blank expression she couldn't see the apparition. Yemaya definitely saw it. She curved in on herself and ducked away from the ghost. At least I thought it was a ghost.
Do ghosts drip and wear vintage seventies clothing?