Chapter 12
A knock at the door breaks my concentration.
I slam the book shut and stuff everything back into my bag.
Even though I’m not doing anything wrong, I still don’t want Orion to see what Grandma Rose wrote.
Her words feel like they were written for me, and I’d like to keep them for myself as long as possible.
“Yeah?” I call out after I’ve zipped my bag shut.
Orion whips open the door, nearly smacking me in the face. “What are you even doing back here? I need you up front.”
I nod toward the rest of the books. “I was doing research to see if I could find any information about this magical illness.”
He opens the front cover of the book on top of the stack and inhales a dust cloud. As he coughs up half a lung, I peek through the door and spot a curly head of blond hair up near the register. I can’t help but let out a hiss and slam the door shut, collapsing against it.
I didn’t expect to have such a visceral reaction to seeing Joelle again.
“That’s what I was coming to tell you about.” He takes his vape from his pocket and twirls it in his fingers. “Do you really think this is a good idea? How do you know she won’t shove you into a corner and shank you?”
“Thanks for that imagery,” I retort. “I’m not the one who wants Joelle working here. That’s all Gramps. I tried to get him to reject her application, but he thinks this is the perfect opportunity for me to dig into her past and find out her motive.”
“Okay,” he says with a sigh. “In that case, you should train her. I’ll keep an eye on you both to make sure nothing happens.”
I grind my palms against my eyes. Okay, Mikaela. You can do this. I’ve got to face Joelle. There’s still time to figure out her motives and put a stop to my own murder. I mean, the odds are slim, but they’re there.
“Thanks, Ri.” I grab a scrunchie from my bag and pull my box braids into a loose ponytail. The action clears my mind and centers me in space. I reach for the door handle and then pause. “Besides, the vision was clear. I won’t die until the full moon.”
“No,” Orion says. “You’re not going to die at all because you’re going to stop her.”
Stop Joelle from killing me, find out the source of the mystery illness, investigate the Hightowers. It’s a wonder I get any sleep at all with a to-do list like this.
Joelle leans against the counter with her back to me. She’s chatting with a customer about something, so she doesn’t notice me until I’m right beside her. Despite my sudden appearance, she doesn’t startle. Instead, a slow grin spreads across her face.
“We meet again,” she beams. “Your grandpa approved my application, although I’m sure you saw that in the cards if he didn’t tell you.”
My brain isn’t moving quickly enough to form any sort of witty response in her presence.
Instead, her amber eyes trap me in their stare.
The scent of her floral perfume lingers pleasantly in the air.
She’s dressed less like a tourist today, in a pair of jean shorts and a green collared shirt.
It hangs unbuttoned, revealing a white tank top underneath and a delicate gold chain around her neck; a pale white moonstone between two golden crescent moons hangs from the chain.
I recognize the triple-moon symbol immediately. It’s the symbol of Hecate, the ancient Greek goddess of crossroads and magic.
The sight is like a bucket of cold water over my emotions, snapping me out of my Joelle haze. As Orion helps the customer at the register, I incline my head toward the back of the store. Joelle follows at my heels.
“I’ll be training you,” I say frigidly, shoulders stiff as I lead Joelle back to the storeroom. “Let me grab you a name tag and we can get started.”
“Okay.” Joelle shuffles her weight back and forth on her heels, fiddling with her necklace, as I rummage around for a blank Zeke’s name tag.
After I hand it to her, I grab a box of new stock items and lead her to our candle and incense section.
“You can restock today. It’ll help you figure out where everything is before you start helping customers.”
“Should be easy enough.” She kneels down and tries to use her keys to cut open the tape. I hesitate before walking back to the storeroom to grab the box cutter. My heart races as I hand her the blade.
Would Orion be able to stop her if she tries to attack me? Or should I risk using my magic to subdue her?
My thoughts don’t stop racing until she slices through the tape and resheathes the blade.
“So, do you have to run off right now, or could you stay and ‘supervise’ me?” There’s a playful shimmer in her eyes as she leans back to sit on the floor.
As much as I want to get as far away from her as possible, Gramps did task me with investigating her. I can’t do that if I don’t actually talk to her. If this doesn’t work, then I’ll read her mind like he wants.
I plop down cross-legged on the other side of the box and watch as she begins to place candles on the bottom shelf.
“Since this is a family business, I’ve got to ask: Does your entire family practice voodoo?”
“None of us do,” I answer. “We have a healthy appreciation for voodoo, but we’re not practitioners.”
Her face falls. “Oh, I just thought—”
“Common misconception.”
My gaze drifts back to the triple-moon symbol dangling from her neck. “You didn’t tell me you practice witchcraft yourself.” The statement comes out harsher than I intended.
She stills and looks up sharply. “What—”
“Your necklace.”
Her hand flies up to her neck. “Oh, well, I wouldn’t say that I practice.”
“Then, how would you describe it?”
Joelle’s eyes widen. “Whoa, what’s with the interrogation?” She looks down at the necklace and laughs. “I guess I should’ve known that you would find out one way or another. You are clairvoyant, after all.”
My muscles stiffen. It can’t be this easy. I haven’t even had to use a truth potion, but it sounds like she’s about to reveal what really brought her here.
“Go on,” I prod.
The candles are swiftly forgotten as Joelle rests her chin in her hands. “I’ve always wanted to be a witch.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
Her brown cheeks turn a shade of ruddy red.
“It’s embarrassing to say out loud, but yeah.
I was a witch every year for Halloween. I’ve watched every piece of witchy media I can get my hands on.
Charmed, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, the Coven season of American Horror Story.
All of it.” Her eyes glaze over as she stares at a spot past my head.
“And then I grew up and realized magic wasn’t real.
So, I decided to devote my life to studying the people who still believe. ”
If only she knew how close she was to the real deal.
“So…you study witches?”
“Yeah, kind of.” She covers her face and lets out a shaky laugh.
“That’s why I chose Tulane.” An indentation forms between her eyebrows as a shadow passes over her face.
“I could’ve stayed closer to home and studied the witch trials or done a deep dive into Wicca, but I realized I’m more drawn to studying Black history and culture in general. So, now I’m here.”
When you’re in the business of reading people, you pick up on the clues they drop along the way. There’s a deeper story behind leaving home, but it isn’t a tale for today. I tuck it away to ask about later. “You’re in the right place,” I murmur.
“Yeah, I think so.” She scrambles to grab her phone. “I was on a ghost tour last night! They took us to visit Marie Laveau’s tomb and her house! Do you want to see? Although, I guess it’s less exciting if you live here…”
As she searches through her photo album, a thought worms its way into my head. Maybe she’s a little too interested in witchcraft? Could this be the reason why I meet my end? She wouldn’t be the first mortal to kill a witch over jealousy and power.
“I didn’t know majoring in witchcraft was an option,” I quip. “If so, I’d probably be enrolled somewhere right now.”
She looks up from her phone. “It’s not, unfortunately. I’m majoring in anthropology with a minor in Africana studies and maybe a second minor in religious studies.”
I can’t help but bristle. Joelle is the academic that everyone expects me to be.
She knows what she wants, and she’s drawing a brush over the canvas that is her life.
I’m struck by the sudden ache of longing in my chest. I want what she has.
I’d give anything for an uncomplicated life where I can go to college and study something that’ll make me happy.
But I have bigger fish to fry right now, and I made my decision about college. I can’t change the past.
And anyway, I’m not sure they allow convicted murderers to finish their degrees.
Her voice draws me away from my thoughts.
“Since I didn’t offend you with that other question, I want to ask you another.
” She picks up a package of incense from the box.
“You’re telling me that you don’t believe in any of this?
” She points to the rest of the row, which is stuffed with packets of herbs and teas, essential oils, and mortars and pestles.
“From the way you read my cards yesterday, I thought you were a true believer. But if it’s all a show—”
I hold up my hand, cutting her off midsentence. “When did I say it was a show?”
“I guess you didn’t. I assumed, since you said you don’t practice voodoo…” she says, trailing off. “I can’t seem to get a read on you.”
“Maybe you’re not supposed to.”
Revealing the secret of magic to mortals isn’t something a witch takes lightly.
The only acceptable reason is during a romantic relationship or a close friendship.
Joelle is neither my lover nor my friend, so I’m sure as hell not going to give her any indication of what I believe or don’t believe when it comes to witchcraft.
It’s my job to read people, not the other way around. If she has some nefarious reason for wanting to know more about me, then I’m not going to make it easy for her.
The bell over the door jingles. “Mikaela!” Orion yells. “You’ve got a customer!”
I scramble to my feet, but Joelle doesn’t make any move to stand. “Let one of us know once you finish up here, and we can show you where the rest of the stock is.”
She lifts her hand in a mock salute. “Got it, boss.”
I bring one of my regular customers into the back for a reading, but all I can think about is Joelle and our entwined fates.
I end up doing three readings back-to-back. By the time I’m done, my shift is over. I’m packing up my cards when Joelle leans against the doorframe. “Do you have time for one more reading?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
Her expression looks so silly, I can’t help but laugh. Idiot. She’s your murderer!
“Didn’t I already give you one?”
Joelle shrugs and slips into the chair across from me. “There’s always something new for the cards to reveal.”
I’ll give her that. Wordlessly, I hand her the stack of cards and think of all the questions I have about the girl sitting across from me. Why is she fated to kill me? What does the future hold in store for her?
“I don’t have a specific question I want answered,” she says. “You can give me a general reading.”
She hands me back the shuffled deck and I waste no time in arranging them on the table facedown in a Celtic cross.
It’s not a position I often use. With a total of ten cards drawn, it usually provides way more information than my customers want or need.
But if there’s any situation that calls for one, it’s this one right here.
I explain to Joelle as I go. Each of the cards drawn has a different significance. The first card represents the situation; the second card is the challenge. For my purposes, the most important card is the sixth: the near future.
Slowly, I flip the cards over, observing the titles. I touch them only briefly enough to see what they say. I’m not ready for a vision yet.
Joelle remains silent as her eyes rove over the cards. My breath stalls in my throat as I reach for the sixth card. The vision overtakes me before I can even flip it over.
It’s the same damn vision I’ve seen over and over again. How many times can someone watch their own death before they lose their mind completely? Because I’m close to the edge.
“The Death card,” Joelle states solemnly. “We meet again.”
The words slip out before I can process my thoughts. “You’re on the precipice of something big. Your life is going to change completely very, very soon.”
And with it, mine and my family’s. There is no alternative reading. The cards aren’t wrong. My visions are clear.
To her credit, Joelle doesn’t look happy. Instead, she looks downright frightened. The look only lasts for a moment before disappearing in a flash. “You’re really good at this…even if you don’t believe in it.”
A sigh slips from my lips. “I never said what I believe.”
“I know.”
I turn away from her smirk to set my cards back in their place on the bookshelf. When I turn back, her eyes are soft and she’s holding out her phone to me. “Put your number in,” she says. “You’re my supervisor. I might need to call you if I’m going to be late to work or if something comes up.”
My skin prickles as I take the phone from her. It’s so unfair that the pretty girl asking for my number is someone I don’t have the slightest chance with. Not when she’s planning on plunging a knife into my chest in the near future.
“Done.” She takes her phone back and I stick my hands in my pockets to keep her from seeing how shaky I am. “So, later, then?”
“Later.”
And with that, she’s gone. For now. My shoulders slump as a deep fatigue settles into my bones. Being around her is so electric that when she leaves, I feel sapped dry of all my energy.
Out of pure curiosity, I flip over the next card in Joelle’s reading. It’s the You card. On the front, a blond woman sits on a throne with a giant sunflower in one hand. A black cat perches at her feet. It’s the Queen of Wands.
Joelle is a force to be reckoned with. But you know what? I can be, too.