Cajun Magic 02 - Voodoo for Two (3 page)

“No, ma’am. I surely wouldn’t.” LeRoy gasped beneath the weight of the two women.

“So that leaves you lying like the whore you are.” Eunice pulled tighter until Ben thought Lucie’s hair would fly out in hunks.

“Ladies, this is no way to settle an argument.” He tried to pry Eunice’s fingers out of Lucie’s hair and nearly got an elbow to the groin.

LeRoy scrambled away from the fighting pair and lurched to his feet
.
He rubbed at his crotch, a grin spreading across his face. “
Whoo-weeee
! Let the good times roll! My money’s on you, honey cakes.” He pulled out his wallet and started counting bills.

Ben grabbed LeRoy and jerked his arm behind his back, high up between his shoulder blades. “Call her off or I’ll tell her the truth.”

The smile slipped down the bully’s face and then back up again. “Who’s she gonna believe, her husband or one of Lucie’s ex-squeezes?”

He tightened his hold until sweat popped out on LeRoy’s face. “Call her off or I’ll do worse than Lucie did to you.” Ben lowered his voice to be sure LeRoy got his message. He remembered LeRoy’s bullying as a kid, but as an adult, Ben didn’t have the time or patience to put up with it.

“Okay, okay,” the bigger man squealed.

Ben let up on the pressure.

“Let her go, Eunice,” LeRoy said. “She ain’t worth it.”

Her breath coming in short gasps, Eunice glanced up from Lucie’s back. “You sure? I got her right where I want her.”

Lucie reared up, her temples straining against Eunice’s hold on her hair. She rolled, slamming Eunice’s back against the floor. “Let me go, you moron! You should be kickin’ your husband’s butt, not mine.”

LeRoy chuckled. “Ain’t never seen her so mad. Kinda like it.”

With a jerk of his arm, Ben reminded the larger man who was in charge.

“Lighten up, will ya?” LeRoy squirmed against the force on his wrist. “Eunice, let the swamp princess go. You and me got better thangs ta do.”

With one last tug, Eunice released Lucie’s hair, shoved her to the side, and stood up as if fighting in a bar were an everyday occurrence for her. “Come on, sweetie. Supper’s ready and waitin’.”

Ben released his hold on LeRoy.

The hulking man wrapped a thick stump of an arm around Eunice’s skinny shoulders and turned her toward the door. “Didja make my favorite?”

Eunice smiled up at him, dwarfed by his bulk
.
“I sure did. Mudbugs and rice. I caught ‘em fresh today in that ditch alongside the road to our place.”

With the fight over, the bar patrons drifted back to their beer, some counting out bills to pay up on their bets. Yup, it was a typical night at the Raccoon Saloon. Ben felt more at home by the minute.

He bent to where Lucie pushed to her hands and knees in a puddle of beer. The color in her cheeks high, she was still so pretty she made his chest hurt. He steeled himself against the onslaught of unwanted emotions and pulled her up into his arms. “Hey, Lucie.”

“Ben?” Lucie blinked, her eyes widening, her face blanching as her fingers curled into his shirt. “You came back,” she whispered, then flung her arms around his neck.

He held her close, the scent of her shampoo wrapping around him. This was what he’d been missing in his life. This woman and the feel of her body against his. But it was all an illusion, which would end when Lucie got her bearings. Ben steeled his heart against further pain and forced a chuckle, “Yeah, babe, I’m back, and I can see not much has changed around here. You’re still giving the men of Bayou Miste hell.”

Chapter Three

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Lucie LeBieu swallowed the wad of guilt in her throat and stretched up on her tiptoes. When her fingers wrapped around the bottle marked “Tailless Raccoon Spit,” she dragged it from the shelf of her grandmother’s pantry.

“Need help in there?” Alex called out from the kitchen.

“No. I can handle this myself.”
Yeah. Sure
. Just like she handled her love life. And everyone in Bayou Miste knew
that
was nonexistent. But if she was caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar, she didn’t want her two friends to catch any of the old woman’s wrath.

Lucie’s grandmother wasn’t the normal, run-of-the-mill grandmotherly type. Oh, she had in her kitchen the usual flour, sugar, and everything necessary for a scrumptious batch of chocolate chip cookies, or even yummier Louisiana gumbo. But it didn’t stop there—she had many more mysteries stashed away in her cupboards. Tailless Raccoon Spit was only one of the strangely labeled containers Lucie found as she riffled through the pantry.

Her grandmother wasn’t an escapee from a mental institution, or a homeopathic healer, per se, although healing did make up the majority of her work. She was none other than the infamous bayou Voodoo queen, Madame LeBieu. And if she knew what Lucie was up to, she’d likely stir up a retribution potion that would give her granddaughter a wicked weeklong itch or something even more dreadful.

But Lucie was madder than a crab in a fishnet, and she wasn’t going to let her grandmother’s reputation scare her out of doing what she had to do. And her anger was directed toward one red-hot sexy Cajun. “Of all the people to turn up at the Raccoon Saloon, why did it have to be Benjamin Franklin Boyette? Why now? And the rat bastard pretty much accused me of starting that fight with LeRoy.” She stomped in and out of the little pantry.

Lucie’s friend Calliope opened the container on the counter and dipped a finger into a powdery concoction. “Lucie, you know Madame LeBieu would have a hissy fit if she knew you were messin’ with her stash of magic ingredients.”

“Stay out of that, Calliope Ostelet.” Alex, the more levelheaded of her two friends, swatted at Calliope’s hand. “It’s liable to turn your skin purple or give you boils.”

Lucie ignored the two and walked back into the storage room.

Alex followed, leaning into the doorway to sniff. “What’s she got in there, anyway?”

“None of your business, Alexandra Belle Boyette.” Lucie emphasized the “Boyette” as if it were a nasty-tasting word. As she pushed past Alex, she redirected her guilt and anger toward her friend. She knew she shouldn’t meddle in
Mamère
LeBieu’s magic. But now that a foreclosure notice had been served, and worse, Ben was back in town, she had no other choice. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you.” She stopped on her third trip back to the butcher block in the middle of the cluttered kitchen. “You could have told me
big brother
was back.”

A rosy red blush flooded Alex’s cheeks. “I would have, but you were too busy waiting tables at the saloon for me to break it to you.”

Lucie smacked a tin container on the counter. “Bull.”

Alex sighed. “Okay, so I didn’t tell you. Shoot, it has been a long time since you’d seen my brother, I wasn’t sure how you still felt about him.”

“I don’t have
any
feelings for him.” She marched back to the pantry. “None at all.” Then why the hell was there moisture in her eyes, and why was her chest—and strategic points farther south—so tight and achy? She held on to her anger like a shield, praying she didn’t break down in front of her friends.

She glanced around the interior of the pantry, blinking to avoid letting a single tear slip down her face. Must be all the potent herbs and cayenne pepper her grandmother kept for cooking up food and the occasional spell. Nope, she wasn’t crying over that rat Ben.

“You all right in there?” Calliope peeked into to the dimly lit room.

“I’m fine. I just can’t seem to find what I’m lookin’ for.”
Story of her life
. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to find her place in Bayou Miste. Especially since Ben left.

But now he was back. After seven long freakin’ years! All the more reason to get out.
Fast
.

She spied the last canister she needed and grabbed it
.
Back in the kitchen, she arranged the various containers in order of the instructions she’d found in the wood-bound book marked “Madame LeBieu’s Special Recipes.” With the cookbook propped on a stand, she tugged a massive cast-iron stockpot from a bottom cabinet and set it on the propane-powered stove.

Alex’s eyes widened and her face paled. “Ah jeez, you weren’t kidding, were you? You really are going to use magic. Clear the parish!”

Lucie glared at her former friend.

“Cut the crap, Alex.” Her lips pressed together, she leaned over to read the recipe, then snatched up the first container and a measuring cup.

Alex blocked her way to the stove. “Lucie, don’t do it
.
I beg of you.”

“Move, Alex.”

“Madame LeBieu will be furious,” Alex argued.

“Where is she, anyway?” Calliope’s gaze darted around the room as if expecting the woman to appear out of thin air. “And where’s Lisa?”

“Lisa went to New Orleans and
Mamère
took a poultice to Pete Pasquale on the other side of Bayou Black. He must have been poaching gators, because he got himself bit. She won’t be back for half the afternoon.” Lucie stared at Alex. “She’ll never know I was in her pantry, if you’ll move out of my way and let me get on with it.”

“Any chance of Lisa dropping in?” Calliope asked.

She cringed. Her twin sister was the last person who needed to know she was attempting magic. As far as twins went, Lucie and Lisa shared looks, but nothing else. Lisa was the yin to her yang, the dark to her light. Her sister was wild, through and through. “No. She left for New Orleans this morning to visit a friend . Thank God.”

“Good thing. Maybe she’ll stay.” With a short, harrumphing snort, Alex stepped around the butcher block and pulled up a stool. “I still think it’s wrong, and I don’t know what I’m doing here watching, but if this is the way you want to deal with your life, it’s your funeral.”

“Funeral?” Lucie wanted to laugh at how she’d shied away from the love spell her grandmother had tried to hex her with. And here she was cookin’ up one of her own. If they weren’t in danger of losing her home, or there was any other way to get rich quick in Bayou Miste, she’d have jumped on it. Snagging Eric Littington was her only hope of saving her grandmother’s home and getting herself out of the swamp. “A little love potion isn’t that big of a deal.”

Alex snorted. “That’s what you always say.”

“Look, if you’re going to watch, at least keep it quiet.” Lucie ran her finger down the page, checking off her list of ingredients. “These spells have to be mixed with the appropriate words as well as ingredients, and if someone else talks, I might get things confused.”

“We’ll be quiet,
right
Calliope?” Alex shot a warning glare across at the redhead.

“My lips are sealed.” Calliope drew an imaginary zipper across her lips and grinned, spoiling the effect.

Lucie ignored her friends and concentrated on the recipe book, her stomach knotting automatically. She recalled the last few times she’d tried
Mamère
LeBieu’s magic, only to goof up every spell. She couldn’t help it if she’d mistaken the Voodoo queen’s canister of whole-wheat flour for ground cypress knees. So what if Mo’s alligator was in love with Granny Saulnier’s poodle? Worse things could happen.

But not today. She was determined to make good her escape from ruin, Bayou Miste, and Benjamin Franklin Boyette.

Ah hell, had she really added
Ben
on to the end of that thought? What did she have to worry about with Ben? Their relationship was no longer an issue—hadn’t been for seven long years. A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed determinedly.

Eric
was her ticket out of all her troubles and the swamp—not Ben. Besides, Alex had mentioned that Ben was home for good. If that was the case, Lucie had no intention of staying in the bayous. What for?

Because Ben was home
, a niggling voice taunted her.

With a vicious twist, Lucie wrapped her thick hair high on the back of her head and clamped it in place to keep it out of the way while she cooked up her future.

“I feel like there should be a drum roll or something.” Calliope gave a little giggle. “Well? Isn’t every Voodoo spell supposed to be accompanied by drums?”

Alex and Lucie glared at Calliope until she flushed and raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I won’t say another word.”

“Good, because I want everything to be perfect for this spell. My future with B—
Eric
depends on it.” Her face warmed and she leaned over the potion book, hoping Alex hadn’t heard her slip up.

Alex’s eyes widened. “Are you sure
Eric’s
the guy for you, sweetie?”

Lucie arched her brows at her dark-haired friend. “Let me see…Eric’s the son of the richest man in the parish, not to mention he’s a United States congressional candidate and the acclaimed golden boy of Louisiana politics. And from what I remember, he was always nice and might have been sweet on me at one time.” She tapped a finger to her chin and stared at the ceiling before adding, “Yup, I think he’s the right man to get us out of financial ruin and get me out of the swamps.” Her attention returned to the book. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to cook up a love spell, and you’re interrupting.”

“Okay. Whatever.” Alex shook her head. “Although I didn’t hear anything about love in there. Kind of an important ingredient in a marriage, if you ask me.”

After a deep breath drawn in through her clenched teeth, Lucie said, “In case you missed it, I did say ‘love.’ That’s why I’m here. Hel-
lo
? Love spell? Voodoo? Jeez. I’m surrounded by amateurs.”

“You don’t have to be so grumpy,” Alex grumbled.

Her face warmed again. Alex was right. She’d been a flaming bitch since she’d run into Ben at the Raccoon Saloon. And she wasn’t normally like this. Only where Ben was concerned. With a weak smile at her friend, she muttered a not-so-very-contrite, “Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

Her heart welled with a flood of emotion for her two friends. But she didn’t have time for group hugs and a round of “Kumbaya.” She had some fancy cooking to do. She turned back to the cookbook. “Start with stump water, dark as night. Two cups of the stuff will be just right.”

From the floor, she lifted the brown glass jug marked “Stump Water” and poured it into a measuring cup until the liquid line met the two-cup mark.

“Jeez, that stuff smells like—” Calliope pinched her nostrils together and gagged.

“Stump water?” Lucie finished, then clamped her hand to her mouth. “Shoot, Calliope, you weren’t supposed to say anything during the ingredient-mixing.”

With hunched shoulders, Calliope pressed her hand to her lips and muttered through her fingers. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Lucie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.
As if!
Calliope couldn’t shut up for more than thirty seconds at a stretch. She’d likely explode if she did.

Cup in hand, Lucie dumped the contents into the cast-iron stockpot, the smell triggering her own gag reflex. Back at the book, she read the next line out loud. “With the fire set low, add to the soup, a quarter teaspoon of ground alligator tooth.”

Lucie twisted the knob on the stove and the acrid scent of propane filled the air. Then, as she’d seen
Mamère
LeBieu do a thousand times, Lucie scraped a match against the rough wooden wall and the head burst into flame. After lighting the burner, she settled the pot over the fire.

Now for the next ingredient. She opened the brown jar marked alligator tooth. The odor from the jar reminded her of her last visit to the dentist—the pungent smell created when drill meets tooth assailed her nostrils. She shoved the measuring spoon inside, retrieving a quarter teaspoon, as the recipe called for.

Careful not to spill or sneeze, she dropped the powder into the water. “Then with a touch, ever so light, add a pair of crawfish eyeballs to sharpen love’s sight.”

“Ewwww!” Calliope squirmed and shuddered on her stool.

“Shh!” Alex jabbed her elbow into the redhead’s rib cage.

A contrite-looking Calliope sat with her hand still over her mouth.

With a warning glower at her friend, Lucie moved on to the next item on the list. “Five drops of spit from a tailless raccoon will ensure the magic lasts until the ten thousandth moon.” She unscrewed the cap off a small vial, and dripped five drops of raccoon spit into the stewpot.

Yuck
. Some of the ingredients were really disgusting. How did her grandmother work with this stuff day after day?

“I wonder how Madame LeBieu got raccoon spit,” Calliope said. “Suppose she bought it off the Internet? Or did she wrestle a tailless raccoon to the ground and knock the spit out of it?” A smile lit her face and she sat up straighter. “Maybe some of the stuffed coons in the Raccoon Saloon are from her spit-gathering.”

Alex smothered a giggle.

An answering giggle leaped up in Lucie’s throat, but she squelched it before it escaped. She really shouldn’t encourage Calliope’s interruptions. Instead she sent a withering glance at the two seated women and moved on to the next instruction. “The fragrant blossom of the magnolia tree will enhance the romance, just wait, you’ll see.” Lucie opened a plastic bag filled with dried flower petals marked “Magnolia Blossoms.” She dropped one petal into the pot.

Before Lucie could reseal the bag, Alex jumped up, grabbed it from Lucie and dumped the contents into the pot.

“Hey, the recipe only called for one petal, you just dumped four in there,” she said.

“You’re long overdue on romance.” Alex hugged her and sat back on the stool.

Her vision blurred, Lucie had to blink several times and swallow the lump in her throat before she could go on with her work. God, she loved her friends. When she left Bayou Miste, she’d hate leaving them behind. But she needed a new start away from her past—especially from a past that included Ben
.
Straightening her shoulders, she got back to business.