spies and spells 01 - spies and spells (4 page)

There was movement near the Shakespearean theatre. My eyes shifted toward the stocky shadow and I ran across the grassy lawn in the shadows so he wouldn’t see me. 

Squawk
, Lilith’s familiar and rare purple macaw landed on the back of one of the many wooden Adirondack chairs that was provided by the Historic Old Louisville’s newly formed Chamber of Commerce.

“You can fly on back and let my dear sister know she needs to get home for some rest since she’s going to be pulling two shifts tomorrow,” I warned her familiar and wondered which chair had The Brew’s name stamped on the metal tag nailed on one of the wooden planks as I snaked my way down to the amphitheater. 

I vividly remembered Auntie Meme giving a very generous donation when the Chamber of Commerce was recently formed and went around to all the businesses in Historic Old Louisville, which weren’t many, inviting them to join. They had all sorts of plans and ideas for Central Park and the community. The chairs were a nice, cozy added touch.

Mick ran along the bottom of the stage, stopping on stage left. Behind him I could see Vinnie rolling back down Fourth Street. Stopping.

Perfect
, I smiled knowing I was about to do my thing, and run off into the night with a long day of the spa ahead of me.

“Here goes nothing.”  I stepped out in the moonlight, setting my spell in motion for Mick. I drew my hand in the air and stared at his back. His hands were planted on the top of the stage floor as though he were about to jump up on it. I said, “From the ashes you will fall, making hourly kitty cat calls.”

He turned around just as the sound of running footsteps came closer. I had to hurry and get the hell out of there. The man slowly turned around, dropping his hands off the stage and looked at me. He wasn’t Mick. It was the man from the diner. The man with Mick.

He threw something in the wrought iron trashcan next to the stage. There was a terror-stricken look on his face. The white brow over his left eye glowed in the moonlight. His green eyes with golden flakes had a haunted look.

A clap of thunder overhead caused me to jump, pulling my hands close to my body. The moonlight I had created slowly disappeared behind the blackest cloud, covering Central Park with a dark blanket.

“Wait.” My jaw dropped. The sky opened up. The rain poured down. “You aren’t. . .”

Like magic, the man, who was not Mick, scurried off on his new furry four legs.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I stomped my feet on the ground and pounded my fists at my side. “How the hell did you get that wrong?” I asked, trying to cover my head from the rain with my arms.  “Shit.”

I bent down to the ground, trying to see where the man ran, but the rain dripped down my face and into my eyes. The rain was so hard, puddles were forming around my hands as I tried to crawl around looking for the man.

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” I called for him, hoping he couldn’t resist the catcall.

The sounds of running footsteps got closer. I stood up; peeling my hair away from my ear to get a sense of how fast the person was running. The thumping of the rain wasn’t helping clear the audio.

“Mick,” I gasped, knowing in my gut it was the man from the diner and the bar who was supposed to get the hourly kitty cat spell so I could win the dare. “Here!” I commanded the package from the trash. It appeared in my hands. “There,” I commanded again and ran in the rain toward Fourth Street, away from the park.

“Shit!” I heard a man’s voice scream from behind me. “Shit! Wait! You! Stop!”

I knew he was talking about me and I knew it was Mick. I didn’t turn around. I gripped the package nearly dropping it when Vinnie skidded in a puddle of water in front of me coming to a complete halt. The water drenched me. The door flew open.

“Get in,” Vinnie commanded. “Maggie, get in.”

My heart was pumping inside my chest. My breathing rang in my ears like gongs. I brushed my forearm over my eyes to try to dry the rain from them so I could see. I ran around to the driver’s side door.

“I said to stop!” Mick screamed, running faster toward me and getting closer.

“Come on,” Vinnie pleaded with me. “Not our circus.”

“And I’m not a monkey,” I quipped with one last look over my shoulder at Mick before scanning the park one last time for the kitty cat.

I threw the package in my car and planted both hands on top of the roof, peering over the top at Mick. The raindrops pinged the top of Vinnie. Mick scooted to a stop. His chest heaved up and down. His shirt soaked wet to his body, outlining his muscular chest. My breath caught as I scanned down his drenched form. There was a gun holster strapped around his waist. His hand rested on the gun nestled up against his hip.

“You again,” his voice penetrated the space between us like the thunder above our heads. He ran his hand through his wet hair. “You are everywhere.” He let out a deep sigh, putting his hand back on his gun. “Where is the package? Give me the package.” He stretched out his hand.

With another clap of thunder, I disappeared inside Vinnie. The door slammed behind me. The tires squealed from underneath me.

I turned around in the seat and watched out the back window as Mick ran after me as fast as he could. His gun was still in his holster.

Chapter Four

Within seconds, Vinnie had me back on the corner of Second Street and Magnolia at The Derby. It was time to confess I had not completed the dare.

“Maggie.” The locks on the door clicked.

“Vinnie, did you just lock me in the car?” I asked grabbing the door handle and pushing against the door. 

“I don’t have a good feeling about this package.”

Vinnie reminded me of the package I had taken from the trash. The package the guy I had accidentally turned into the cat had put there. But my mind was on Mick and the spell I had put on the wrong guy.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” I glanced at the floorboard of the passenger side where the package had landed when I threw it in. It was wrapped up in a paper sack, like it was going to be mailed. There wasn’t any writing on it. Just a small package.

I reached out to grab the package, but pulled away when I noticed the dried coffee stain on it. It was the same package from this morning. It wouldn’t hurt to see what was inside. Maybe it wasn’t my business. But maybe it was. The package was at the diner this morning. I did spill coffee all over it. And now it was in my car.

“Why would that man throw the package in the dumpster? Did he know he was morphing?” Vinnie asked a good question I didn’t have the answer to.

“So what.” I shrugged and tugged on the locked door again, not letting his nagging tug at my gut. It was all behind me and I was going to let it stay there. I could easily erase Mick’s memory of the event ever occurring. “It was a simple dare to turn a guy into a cat for an hour. I don’t care what the two men had to do with each other and nor should you.”

“Who are you kidding?” Vinnie laughed. “You are the nosiest witch I have ever met.”

“I’m not nosy.” Mrs. Hubbard popped into my mind. “I’m curious,” I said to justify what I was about to do.

I reached down and picked up the package, taking a gander at it from all angles and lifting it to my nose to smell the dried coffee. “Why would Mick leave the bar to hunt down that man? If they were ‘friends’ as Mick said they were when we were in the hallway of The Derby, why would they be running from each other? And I had even given him a little wink spell for him to follow me to the bathroom to be attracted to me. And nothing could make him break the spell. Did the spell not work?”

More than my spell being off, I really wanted to know what was in the package.

Besides, in one hour the guy would turn back into himself and not remember a thing.

“But you took it.” Vinnie wasn’t going to let it go. “Maybe he was leaving the package in the trashcan for Mick. You need to put it back before they come after you.”

“Vinnie, you are my familiar in a world of mortals who have no idea who we are. No one is going to come looking for this. Plus I have this.” I lifted my hand in the air, where the magic comes from. The suspense killed me. I ripped the brown wrapping off the box and opened it. “See.” I held the tube of lipstick and compact in my hand. “It’s makeup.”

I took a closer look at the brand.

“Not just any makeup.” I popped the top off the lipstick and rolled up the shaft. “It’s Mystic Couture.”

My eyes widened. I had never had, although I’d wanted, the pricey makeup in my hands. I had seen it in all the fashion magazines and knew you had to be invited to a Mystic Couture party in order to be able to order any products in the line. With my background and limited number of friends, I had never known anyone who sells Mystic Couture, much less been invited to a party.

“I bet Mick has a girlfriend who wears this fancy stuff.” I imagined what his girlfriend looked like. She was probably rich and hot like him. “Somehow the white brow guy had Mystic Couture. Maybe illegally and Mick was getting a good deal from him. Kind of like Craigslist or something.”

“Mystic Couture is the leading brand of makeup worn around the world. With international sales going through the roof. Tawny Fawn, founder and CEO, lives in Prospect in a six-bedroom, eleven-hundred-square-foot house.” Tawny Fawn’s stats played like a PowerPoint on Vinnie’s dash screen.

“I know what Mystic Couture is.” I rolled the lipstick up and took a good look at it. “Everyone in Louisville knows who Tawny Fawn is too.”

Tawny Fawn was very eccentric. She was also on the board of every council there was in Louisville.

“I’m not sure why you’re reading her and her company stats to me.” I rolled the lipstick back down into the tube and put it back in the package next to the compact. “This is all over. I lost the bet. The guy will turn back into himself in an hour and I’ll have to work a double shift at The Brew tomorrow.”

I took the lipstick out again. The temptation of trying it on was too great.

“I hope you are right.” Vinnie didn’t sound too convinced. The locks on the door popped up. I didn’t bother listening to my snarky car. I pulled the visor down and rolled the pricey lipstick over my upper and lower lip, covering them completely. I smacked my lips together a couple of times before I slammed the visor back to its normal position.

“Thanks!” I jumped out and slipped the lipstick tube in my clutch.

I might have lost the dare, but I scored on the makeup.

 “Bravo.” Lilith clapped her hands when I walked back into The Derby. “Bravo, dear sister. Way to turn the wrong guy into a cat.” She threw her head back, giving into a high cackle.

“Another round, Buck.” I held my finger in the air and took my spot on the stool Lilith had saved for me.

The cabinet beneath the bar creaked on its hinges when Buck opened it to retrieve a brand new bottle of Makers. He tugged on the tear strip, peeling the red dried wax top off the cap and uncorking it. With Lilith’s glass topped off, he turned to us. “I still don’t get how you two can put so much liquor away and never seem to get drunk.”

“It’s in the genes.” Lilith loved playing with our little family secret. She was good at taking the truth to the brink, leaving a little mysterious trail behind her.

She planted her elbow on the counter. With her head rested in her hand, she narrowed her smoky black eyes; her high cheekbones, accented with rouge, accentuated her beauty. Lilith looked the part of our heritage. She had striking good looks, dark features and wicked sense of humor.

“What’s on your lips?” Lilith’s eyes lowered, her lashes drew a shadow on her checks. She reached her hand out, almost touching my lips. Her jaw dropped. “Is that?”

I smiled, looking around the bar, wondering if Mick would come back to look for me here.

“Is that Jockey Red from Mystic Couture?” Her lashes flew up; her eyes stared at me in anticipation. Lilith was definitely the more fashion forward between the two of us. I knew the brand—she not only knew the brand, she knew the names of all the colors of all the products.

“Well, let’s say that I might have lost the dare, but scored some fabulous Mystic Couture.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder in an act of defiance, showing off the lipstick a little more, trying to put how I got the Jockey Red out of my memory. “And don’t you think you are going to ever use it, because you aren’t.”

“Did I ever tell you that you are my favorite sister?” Her voice raised an octave.

“I’m your only sister,” I happily reminded her and made a couple kissy noises with puckered lips.

“The fact still remains that I won the bet.” The words I had been dreading to hear were about to come out of her mouth. She continued, “I want you to take my morning shift, so you better get home and get your beauty sleep.”

“Morning shift?” My jaw dropped. “As in this morning?” I was well aware it was past midnight.

“Dear, dear sister.” Lilith used her finger to push my mouth shut by pressing on the bottom of my chin. “Auntie Meme had me opening.” Her lips curled. “And since you,” she leaned over, “turned the wrong guy into a sweet little kitty, you lose.”

The Derby was even more packed than before.

Buck sat two short glasses in front of us, giving us each a three-finger pour of Makers.

“What is going on here tonight?” I yelled over the crowd.

“The Grind is here to spin!” Buck warned of the locally famous DJ who brought every single vinyl record and drew in the crowds.

I nodded, sending Buck on his way.

“Looks like you won’t get but two hours of sleep. Just like last time. Do you remember last time?” Lilith rubbed in the fact I had never won a dare.

I definitely remembered last time. Auntie Meme hadn’t forgotten. It was a waitress’s nightmare. I was so tired from working two shifts. I was getting everyone’s orders mixed up. For a witch and a witch’s diner, that wasn’t good. Auntie Meme had a habit of putting little food spells in some customers’ orders. If someone was in a bad mood, Auntie Meme had her way of putting him or her in a good mood by adding a little something to their food. It was her calling. Unfortunately, I had yet to find my calling in the witchy world.