Page 45 of Obsession

“Sure, but I have to be back at the shop at three for a tarot reading,” I say, tossing my empty takeout container in the trash can.

We enter the library where I’ve already prepared our space for the ritual. Giving Azrael the rundown, I instruct him to carve Scythe into the candle as I cast our circle. He hands me the carved candle, and I anoint it with a modified version of Come to Me oil and light it. We chant:

What was lost now I see.

My scythe return to me.

In my hands in one week’s time.

May the law of karma apply to the thief's crime.

We continue chanting as he ties a gold ribbon around the candle and then lights it. Letting it burn out overnight, I close the circle.

“Now what?”

“And now we wait.”

“Alright, but I’m starting to get nervous. Man, I feel like all eyes are on me.” Metratron did have a jar of creepy glowing eyeballs on his desk, so Azrael could be right.

“Eyes on the prize. Keep envisioning your scythe in hand and it’ll happen.”

He takes a deep breath and nods. “Darlin’, time for me to be gettin’ along.”

“Still trying too hard.”

“Shoot! I have a hot date and I really want to impress him with my southern.”

“And who is the lucky fella?”

“He’s a bartender at the Peabody. I’ve become a regular and we hit it off.”

“Good luck. Knock him dead. Well, not literally.” I don’t think Azrael is actually involved with the death. He’s more the postmortem delivery guy. I’m pretty sure. You know what, I really don’t need to know the details.

I walk to the front and grab the ringing phone. “Memphis Ma—”

“I’ve had it with that old crone!” Amelia hisses, cutting me off. “I need seven black candles. I’ll be in later this afternoon.”

“What has Florence done now?” Don’t they ever get tired of this game? I guess not; otherwise, they wouldn’t keep playing it.

“I arrived at Bridget Williamson’s newly renovated parlor for book club yesterday afternoon. Why she chose to go with a Louis XIV style is beyond me,” she states derisively. “It was our book wrap-up party and new book reveal, and guess who brought fried chicken? Even though I’d already signed up to bring fried chicken.”

“I couldn’t even take a guess,” I say, thumbing through the mail.

“Aubry, dear, sometimes you can be as dense as one of Florence’s cakes. Wise up if you want to keep your demon beau.” Rolling my eyes, I open the electric bill. “Florence. Everyone in the book club knows fried chicken is my specialty. She did it just to spite me for missing bridge club the other day.”

“I’m sure it was just a big misunderstanding.”

“Of course it wasn’t. Anyway, I’ve got to run. I’m getting my nails done, and then I’ll drop by the shop.”

Hanging up with Amelia, I call Florence. “Would you please just apologize to Amelia for stealing her thunder with the fried chicken at your book club?”

“Aubry, darling, I will do no such thing. I brought the fried chicken this year because at last year’s event, she overcooked her chicken. It was like chewing on rubber. Bridget Williamson almost choked! I thought I was going to have to perform the Heimlich. Bridget’s husband is a prominent trial lawyer; the last thing I need is to break one of his wife’s brittle ribs. And you tell that old witch to be ready tomorrow at 5:00 a.m. and I swear, if she wheels out more than one suitcase, I’ll hex her on the spot! Nobody needs ten cardigans for a three-day cruise.”

I call back Amelia. “Florence only brought the fried chicken because Bridget Williamson can’t tolerate seasoning, and we all know how flavorful your fried chicken is. Oh, and Florence is picking you up at five tomorrow morning, so pack cardigans accordingly.”

“Well, that’s true enough. Bridget eats a tiny fleck of black pepper and you’d think she just ate an entire Scotch bonnet. Thank you for reminding me. I need to pack extra sweaters and a shawl or two for this trip. I about froze to death the last cruise. You’d have thought we were dining in an ice locker as opposed to the captain’s table.”

“Have a wonderful trip.” I hang up and see Aunt Callie smiling. “What did I do in a past life to deserve being dragged into their nonsense?”

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