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“Mum’s the word.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You rattled some cages, Len. Watch your six, and if you need anything, text first. The less pack-folk you cross paths with, the better, at least until whatever crawled up the Alpha's ass cools off.”
“Yeah, he was pretty mad when he threw me into the bayou. It's gonna take a minute, I think.” I hefted the bag gently and grinned. “Hey. You threw in extra fries.”
“You could tell?” he said with a laugh.
“I can always tell, Spence. And I always, always appreciate you.” I tucked my free arm around him and squeezed. “I don't deserve your friendship, but I never take it for granted.”
He leaned in as he hugged me.
“I had the biggest crush on you in middle school,” he whispered.
I laughed and leaned into the hug. “I'm glad I didn't do anything stupid then, making it so we can't be friends now.”
He kept his voice low. “Not everyone thinks that every tradition is necessary—or right—you know.”
I sucked in a breath, and my stomach grumbled. “Thanks. It feels better than you'd know to hear that. I'll lie low and check in with you later, okay?”
He kissed my temple. “Get lost, Len. You don't fit my clientele.” Spence's grin widened as he stepped back and winked.
I saluted him. “You got it, Boss.“
The day began to look up with the aroma of hot French fries, salt, and American cheese floating from my paper bag and filling my nostrils. I strolled to my apartment on the other end of Third, snacking on mouth-watering, tongue-blistering fries.
I stood before my downtown Third Street apartment, basking in the sights, scents, and sounds of home. This part of the street has storefronts jammed under second floors containing apartments, but these older buildings were a dying breed as gentrification and commercial development took them over.
The delicious aroma of George’s Barbecue wafted in my direction. Spence’s mate worked evenings there. From above came the tortured strains of little Patrick Leland practicing piano on his electric keyboard and newborn Princess Millie crying for whatever reasons an infant cries.
I understand, kid.
“Hello, Miss Elena.” Bernie White shuffled toward me. “Late night working?”
“You could say that. How’s that elbow?” Bernie was mugged right outside our building one night. Chas maced one guy while I kneecapped the other with a swift kick. Those boys hadn’t come back to bother the elderly.
“Fine, Elena, thanks to you gals. When is Miss Chastity coming back from her visit with her mamaw? I could use some of that pain relief salve of hers?”
People looked to Chastity for her Voodin remedies for common ailments. She made house calls and wouldn’t take money from the poor. When I asked why, she waved her hand and said she earned enough from love potions to cover the cost of ingredients.
“Tomorrow, I think. I’ll have to check. But I’ll give her your order when she walks through the door.”
“I’d appreciate it. And just to let you know, the people around here appreciate you, too, Miss Elena. Mrs. Bonet was telling me that since you and Miss Chastity moved in, those uglies that go bump in the night haven’t been around. I noticed it, too.”
“You can’t credit us with that, Mr. White. We’re just two simple gals trying to make it in the big city.”
He laughed. “Sure. I better move along. Mrs. Pierce is making me lunch today.”
“Have a good one.” I said with a wave.
I walked down the driveway to the back of the building to get to the entrance of my apartment. Mr. White was right. Chastity and I were the unofficial Community Watch with a side order of paranormal protection for our little neighborhood.
I’ve learned much about witchcraft and Voodin beliefs since Chas and I moved in together. She provided me with safe harbor when word on the street was that I was untouchable. Much like Spence, she’s always hated the clannishness of the different factions and wished we could all just get along.
If only.
So around town, she’s known as Switzerland. If you need magic and want the best and to be safe from bias? You come to my bestie.
But for me, the magic is free. Just like I can’t help finding things, she must use magic, or it starts slipping out unexpectedly. So at home, we work together to keep from coming apart at the seams. Regular practice of our “gifts” as Chas calls them and using them together to strengthen us and serve our community has been one of the best parts of leaving the pack.
