Page 11 of Bewitched By the Voodoo King
I didn’t know what to say to that so I stared at him like an idiot instead. After a moment of awkward silence, he held up the plastic grocery bag he had tucked behind his back.
“I told the kitchen to hold back a plate from dinner,” he said, placing it on the table. “Maggie made red beans and cornbread. Figured you might be hungry after being... emotionally steamrolled.”
I blinked. “You saved me food?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want you to get lost looking for it.”
My eyes burned unexpectedly. It was just food. A small gesture. But no one else had thought about how I might be feeling. Not really.
“Thanks,” I said quietly. “That was… thoughtful.”
He nodded once as he placed the bag on the counter and was gone. I didn’t know if I was shocked, impressed, or suspicious.
Either way, I dug into the food like it was my last meal.
A loud popsounded from down the hall and I groaned. Not another problem. Since becoming the Voodoo King, I dealt with more issues than I ever knew possible within the coven. Starting with toilets overflowing into a neighboring home and ending with a magical catastrophe on Bourbon Street. I could hardly believe some of the problems people brought to my door and by that sound… it meant another was coming right for me.
I rolled my neck on my shoulders and contemplated turning the other way. I could pretend I didn’t hear it, but that would only prolong dealing with whatever it was. Which didn’t lookgood, if anyone found out or it could just make it that much bigger of a mess.
Dragging my feet, I walked down the hallway to the massive kitchen that took up the middle of the coven’s compound. I pushed the swinging doors open and had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. Maple stood in the center of the kitchen holding a bag of flour. Her face was completely covered in white, as well as the surrounding floor. She blinked a few times before she turned around and placed the bag onto the granite countertop. It was rather comical and nothing I expected.
“I… I don’t know what happened,” she said stunned. “I just wanted to bake something nice for your mother and then one by one each of the ingredient containers exploded in my face.”
I gritted my teeth together and covered my mouth with a closed fist to keep from laughing out loud. I cleared my throat. “Well, for starters, you trespassed against an elemental witch’s domain. She has everything spelled in here with her magic and I’m sure she will be here in three… two…” and before I could get to one, Magnolia was bursting through the doors.
“What the hell is happening in my kitchen? What kind of person doesn’t stop after the first hex?” Magnolia, also known as Maggie stepped into the kitchen with her rolling pin held high and her ample hips swinging. “I hate a kitchen trespassing bitch.”
Maggie stopped when she spotted me and she almost looked sheepish. “Rune, I’m glad you made it before I did. I would have whooped this girl’s ass. Who are you?”
I couldn’t help but clear my throat again. It became even more comical the longer Maple stood there. Her hazel eyes rounded and her mouth formed an O even though no sound escaped her.
“Maggie, this is Maple.”
Maggie’s rolling pin lowered slightly, though her expression remained skeptical as she studied Maple. “Maple, huh? You’re the one everyone’s been whispering about?”
Maple finally seemed to find her voice. “Whispering? About me?” Her tone was a mix of confusion and indignation, her hands gesturing wildly, inadvertently sending another puff of flour into the air. “I didn’t even do anything!”
Maggie arched a brow, glancing pointedly at the flour-coated counters, floor, and Maple herself. “You didn’t do anything? Girl, my kitchen looks like it got hit by a powdered sugar hurricane!”
“I just wanted to bake something nice for Rene,” Maple said defensively, her hands landing on her hips. “How was I supposed to know the kitchen was booby-trapped?”
“Booby-trapped?” Maggie looked personally offended. “It’s spelled, not booby-trapped. This kitchen runs smoother than a New Orleans parade when people respect the rules. You come in here with your chaotic energy and now look at it!”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of me. Both women turned to glare at me, but the scene was too good to hold it in. Maple, her hair and face dusted white, looking like a guilty child caught raiding a cookie jar, and Maggie, towering over her like an avenging culinary goddess, rolling pin in hand.
“Rune,” Maggie said, her tone dripping with warning, as she planted a closed fist on her ample hip, “if you’re not going to help, I suggest you take your laughing ass elsewhere.”
I raised my hands in mock surrender, still grinning. The expression felt funny on my usual serious face. “I’m staying out of this.”
“No, you’re not,” Maple said quickly, turning toward me with a mix of desperation and irritation. “You’re theVoodoo King, aren’t you? Help me!”
“That’s not how this works,” I said, leaning casually against the counter, enjoying this far too much. “You broke the kitchen rules, and now you’ve got to answer to Maggie.”
“I didn’t know there were rules!” Maple exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “No one told me the kitchen was spelled!”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. “First rule of surviving in a coven: don’t mess with an elemental witch’s domain unless you want to end up on her bad side. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today.”
Maple groaned, her head falling into her flour-covered hands. “I just wanted to make something for Rene. Is that so wrong?”
