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ESTELE WALKED INTO the LuLu Beauty Academy prepared to face a tense afternoon of dirty looks.
On the first floor behind a glass door, Miss Dahlia had gathered all the affected students and patrons of the LuLu Academy and placed them under a thrall. The group sat frozen in the classroom as Miss Dahlia walked amongst them, whispering spells and sprinkling enchanted herbs above their heads.
When Miss Dahlia saw Estele standing near the door, she frowned and motioned for her to move on with a brisk wave of her hand.
Witch Griselda materialized at Estele’s side in a poof of steam and a thump of her staff. “You should go home, dear. Let us put things right.” Pointing a bony finger at the brown paper heart, she grinned a yellowed smile. “I see you’ve already made a romantic conquest at the taco truck. How exciting. I can’t wait to see what happens next. Enslaving lovers is so much fun! The scorching memories I have of wandering hands on buggy rides. Scandalous. Do young people still court in the back seats of buggies?”
“No.”
The edges of Griselda’s eyes drooped like a bloodhound’s. “That’s a pity. Bouncing in a carriage behind a horse’s ass was mighty fun, and quite the conversation starter when the horse broke wind. How do young ones meet nowadays?”
“They swipe right on Tinder.”
Alarm animated Griselda’s face. “Tinder? Watch out! You’re a witch, dear, and witches burn. It would be prudent to stay away from tinder, wooden stakes, hay bales—anything flammable. Avoid dunking stools as well. You never know who’s going to freak out and go Malleus Maleficarum on you and bring down the hammer.”
Estele held up Val’s note. “I invited a man for a drink at the Voodoo Hoodoo cocktail lounge. Aunty, was that a mistake?”
“Not a mistake so much as rushing things. If a lemming is already headed for the cliff, there’s no need to fire a starter’s gun.”
What the hell was the old gal babbling about? “Headmistress, I don’t understand. Was I wrong to invite an outsider to San Buena’s enchantment community’s private watering hole?”
“Yes and no.” Griselda’s eyes bulged. “If a love affair is meant to be, it will happen. If it’s meant to end in disaster, it will. We’re all held captive in the hands of fate. Live with it. You’re young and pretty in a wacky sort of way. It’s likely you’ll have many foolish lemmings running over your cliff to their doom.”
Yes, it was a weird compliment, but that was how Griselda saw the world. Cheered, Estele smiled. “Thank you, Aunty. You always say the kindest things.”
“You’re welcome, Estele. Now go home before someone dies.”
A pinch of shame needled her. “Aunty, I don’t mean to hurt others, but I do. All my friends walk on eggshells waiting for me to do the next stupid thing. I love my friends. I care about people. Why doesn’t my magic reflect that?”
Griselda leaned close. She patted twig-like fingers against Estele’s arm as her lazy eye wandered. “It will. You’ve had so many emotional setbacks in your young life that you’ve not yet come into your full power. Love, especially self-love and self-respect, would do you a world of good. When you learn to harness all that’s wild, pure, and free within, your magic will become formidable. You could be a witch without equal.”
Wiser than Miss Dahlia? More competent than Fredi? The words were so welcome, tears hovered in her eyes. “Really?”
“I’ll prove it.” Reaching to the top of her staff, Griselda unscrewed the polished ruby. “This is the Heart of Hecate. It’s been passed or plundered between witches for centuries. I won it unfair and square in a power showdown with a German sorceress at the close of World War I.” Pressing it into Estele’s hand, she muttered, “Because I respect you, I’m going to let you hold on to it for a little while just to see what its powers can do for you.”
With her hand trembling, Estele gasped for breath. “Is that a good idea? The Heart of Hecate is priceless and powerful. Aunty, even I don’t trust me.”
“Experience teaches trust. I’m fricking ancient, but even I don’t expect to walk the earth forever. The enchantment carried within the stone is potent and demands responsible action. I’ll consider this a short-term experiment. Let’s see what you can do when the pedal hits the metal.”
“Whoa, I don’t like the sound of that.” She shook her head. “The ruby is warming. My palm is tingling. Is that normal? It’s not going to burst into flames, is it? I have to go on the record as saying I don’t feel good about this.”
Griselda gave the stone a gentle tap. “Examine the flawless exterior. The gem was once a raw, clunky rock covered in lesser material. Its now-brilliant crimson core didn’t shine, but someone saw its hidden potential and little by little polished the dross away. The Heart of Hecate is lovely now, beyond price. The value is in what it is, not what it was.” One eye went left and the other pulled right. “Put the ruby in your handbag and for Circe’s sake, girl, don’t allow any misfortune to befall it.”
Estele dropped the stone into her fringed leather pony express bag. “Now I’m scared. What if some creep wants to steal it? Won’t someone notice it’s missing from your staff and ask questions?”
“You’d be shocked at how unobservant most people are. Odd as I am, I walk the streets almost invisible to the people beside me. Not ironically, now that you possess the ruby, you will be surprised at how observant you’ll become. That’s what the Heart of Hecate does. It brings the world into vivid focus, and focus is exactly what you need, my dear.”
“I’ll do my best to protect it. Thank you for your trust, Aunty.”
“Don’t thank me yet. There’s stormy weather ahead. Lots of bumps in the nights. Hang on to your broomstick!” Griselda pounded the staff on the floor. “Off I go. I TiVoed Wheel of Fortune. Goodbye.” Poof! She disappeared in a burst of steam.
Clutching the purse under her arm, Estele glanced from side to side to see who may have witnessed the past moments in the hallway.
There was no one around.
“Pheew!” Turning, she decided it was best to avoid the Master Mage Magic Academy for the rest of the day and go straight home. In fact, she should probably avoid outdoor activity and social contact of all kinds while she was possession of the stone. Now she was honor bound to steer clear of trouble.
As she walked into the parking lot, an uncomfortable thought arose. “Valentine,” she mumbled. “Oh crap. I’m going to have to cancel our date.” Looking around, she saw the food truck had already driven off the lot.
“That was fast.” She felt instant relief at not having to confront Val and tell him on the spot that she couldn’t meet him for drinks.
But another thought followed. She wanted to learn a little more about Val. He seemed like such a nice guy, grounded, generous, and just the sort of man she longed for in her life. The decisive feeling was so intense she paused. For once she was having an unmuddled thought, and it felt as welcome as morning sunshine pouring through a kitchen window. Reaching into her purse, she touched the ruby. “So, it’s okay to meet Val for a drink?”
The gem warmed to the touch. A sense of confirmation rolled off it.
“Wow. This is amazing. You’re going to help me by doing all the thinking? Thank Goddess!” She gripped the ruby. “What should I wear?” The image of ripe, juicy cherries popped in her mind. “Okay,” she grumbled. “You want me to dress like a cherry strudel? Can’t say I’m 100 percent sold on the idea.”
Approaching her bright red VW Bug, she unlocked the driver-side door and climbed in. The rearview mirror was hung with colorful purple, green, and gold Mardi Gras beads and crystals. She put the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. The sound of the car’s engine was always friendly and chirpy, like a chubby hamster leaping onto its exercise wheel.
Putting the car in reverse, she backed up, then drove to the edge of the lot.
The LuLu Beauty Academy was located off Oceanside Boulevard, which was a busy main drag with direct access to the freeway, a commuter train platform, and beachfront hotels. Hectic on a slow day, it was congested as hell with summer tourists.
She watched oncoming traffic and waited for a green arrow before inching onto the street, but as soon as she was in her lane, a car roared through a red light and came barreling toward her.
Swerving aside at the last second, she watched in stunned horror as a vehicle filled with jeering clowns zipped past, nearly nicking her bumper.
“Watch where you’re going, bozos!” she shouted.
The clown driver flipped her off with a giant foam finger and continued speeding over a bridge toward the fairgrounds.
She shook her head. “Clowns? Why are they running red lights? Where’s the urgency? Did somebody say call in the clowns—now!” The incident disturbed her.
Putting her phone in speaker mode, she called Fredi.
Fredi picked up immediately. “Hi, Estele. I was wondering when you were going to call back.”
Turning onto a quieter street lined with palm trees, she started to relax. “I’m headed home early today. Fredi, you won’t believe the weird day I’m having.”
“I might.”
She shifted into third. “No. This is beyond even my normal.”
“What’s going on?”
“For starters, a car full of clowns just ran a red light and almost hit me.”
“Hit you with a pie?” Fredi giggled.
“No, hit me with a speeding car. They were headed toward the beach. I hope an enraged sea lion eats them.”
“The beach at Oceanside Park?”
“Yes.”
“The setup for the county fair starts today. Gus can’t wait. He’s such a kid when he talks about fair food. He’ll eat anything fried on a stick. I hope he won’t ask me to go on those horrid rides.”
“You’re nuts, I love fair rides!”
“You’re not a plus-size gal trying to squeeze down the funhouse tube slide. My last visit to the funhouse wasn’t much fun.”
Estele smiled at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “I had a really delicious lunch.”
“Wow, that was an abrupt change of topic. I’m happy for you.”
“This amazing taco truck showed up today, out of nowhere, and the food is out of this world. One of the guys working the truck is super cute. He made me eat flowers—”
“Flowers or flour?”
“Flowers. Big golden flowers, grilled. But that’s not the weird part. He likes me! We’re going to the Voodoo Hoodoo cocktail lounge tonight. And then out of the blue, for no reason, Witch Griselda took the Heart of Hecate from the top of her staff and gave it to me for some sort of experiment. It’s in my purse now. Can you believe it?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Fredi shouted. “Slow down. I’m going to deal with the Voodoo Hoodoo cocktail lounge first. Estele, what the fuck are you thinking? If you like this man and have any hopes of seeing him again, don’t go to the Voodoo Hoodoo! It’s a trouble spot, and I’m not saying that because of that thing you did to me and Gus.”
“I know, you’re right.” She drove up a steep street that wound up the hillside and provided a clear view of the Pacific Ocean and the Channel Islands beyond. “The other reason to stay away from the Voodoo Hoodoo cocktail lounge is that Sidhe the Fae swings like a pendulum and my new guy looks like a hot Latin pirate fantasy, but Val sort of has his heart set on it, so I guess we have to go.”
“Val?”
“Yes, his name’s Valentine and he’s a total hunkmeister!”
“Sweet.” Fredi sighed. “I’m scared to ask, but I have to. Why the hell did Witch Griselda give you the Heart of Hecate?”
“I have no idea. Oh, Grissy flirted big-time with one of the men on the Brujo Tacos food truck. Did you know that when she puts on a glamour she looks like Florence Welch from Florence + the Machine? It’s awesome!”
“Why would Headmistress Griselda give the Heart of Hecate to you?” Fredi sounded peeved. “I was one of the Master Mage Magic Academy’s youngest honor roll students. I graduated the program when I was only seventeen.”
“Griselda didn’t give me the ruby. It’s a loan. Some sort of test.”
“I’m sorry, Estele. I didn’t mean to sound bitter. But jeez Louise, what a once-in-a-lifetime privilege. I wonder what Grissy’s up to. Mercury poisoning may finally be pulling the rabbit out of her hat.”
Estele laughed. “I’m home, Fredi. I’m going to sign off and climb into a bath. I’ll call tomorrow, okay?”
“Before you go, did you say ‘brujo,’ as in wizard?”
“I did,” she said sheepishly.
“Be careful. Something about this odd combination of events is causing me alarm.”
“I’ll be cautious. Bye, Fredi.” She steered onto a steep driveway and her little VW coughed its way up the almost vertical incline as she parked beneath a modern cantilevered apartment building perched on a landscaped terrace. The architecture was sleek and stylish, the height of modern sophistication when it was built in the late 1960s. The panoramic view of the crescent coastline and Channel Islands was the sort usually reserved for millionaires.
On her touch-and-go waitressing salary and the modest student stipend she received from her grandmother’s estate, there was no way she would have ever been able to afford a fab apartment like this—except the building was batshit haunted.
No Indian burial grounds here, though. Those were located in downtown San Buena beneath an unassuming city park. This glass and chrome Bauhaus masterpiece was built on the razed foundations of a rotting Victorian asylum. In yesteryear, the syphilitics, the criminally deranged, the opium addicts, and the just plain loony were sent to the house on the hill and for the most part forgotten.
Now the attractive apartment complex had the dubious distinction of being one of America’s most haunted locations. In fact, it was nearly impossible to hold renters to their leases. Most didn’t last a week. Lucky for the enchantment community, the landlord was willing to slash the rent to maintain the fiction that the building was perfectly inhabitable. But she knew better.
Running up a stark black staircase that created the illusion the slender steps floated unanchored in space, Estele reached her second-floor apartment, unit thirteen.
Yes, it had been ill-advised of the planners to call the largest corner apartment unit thirteen. For certain it was haunted, but the sparkling steel and chrome Jetsons-style kitchen and ocean view were to die for. Too bad so many other weirdos had already died there first.
The moment the key turned in the lock, she opened the door and heard a drawer slam shut.
“Captain Manx!” Estele shouted. “Are you rifling through my dresser drawers again?”
No answer.
“Captain, I know that’s you.” The ghost of a nineteenth century Scottish sea captain haunted unit thirteen. For a number of complicated reasons, Captain Manx had ended his days in the house on the hill.
She entered the apartment with caution. “For shame, Captain! A lady’s personal things should be off-limits. If we have to share the space, at least show me some respect.”
A silver-bearded wild man dressed in a tattered pea coat, canvas pants, and a wool cap materialized seated on her kitchen countertop. “Greetings and salutations, bonny Miss Estele.” He grinned, revealing shocking red and black stains on his teeth incurred from a lifetime of chewing the mildly narcotic beetle nut from Southeast Asia.
“Don’t ‘bonny’ me. I heard the drawer shut. What have you been up to while I was gone? Open your coat, show me.”
Looking sullen, the captain unbuttoned his jacket. His barrel chest was covered in silver hair, mermaid tattoos, and a lacy pink polka-dot bra.
“Aha! You know that’s mine. Take it off.”
Scowling, he removed the coat and slid the bra straps from his shoulders. “A body don’t mean no harm by it. I only borrowed the bit of feminine finery on a lark.”
“But it’s still rude and nasty. My nice things come back to me reeking of stale sweat, pipe tobacco, and whatever it is you’re doing with whale oil.”
“Aye, whale oil is nature’s most conducive lubricant for—”
“Be quiet!” Clamping her hands over her ears, Estele mumbled, “I don’t want to know.”
The captain handed her a scrawled note. “Here’s a list of a few things we’re in dire need of. If you would be so gracious as to retrieve them on your next sojourn to a medicinal emporium, I would be deeply indebted to you and prepared to praise your name in gratitude from here to the Milky Way.”
“Medicinal emporium? Why won’t you just say Rite Aid? By the way, you’re already indebted to me, and dead for over a century. Why do you keep asking for things from the drugstore?”
Throwing his hands into the air, the captain frowned. “I’m bored.”
She read the list. “Laudanum, two pints—”
“Aye, better make it three pints, my little raven-haired kitten of sea.”
“Please don’t call me that.” She glanced back at the list. “One cask Macau-brewed gin with extra Tonka bean, cocaine tincture—double strength, Bombay snuff, opium dumplings, black rum and canon powder for the making of sea-grog, hashish-infused Turkish delight, a rat....”
Setting the list on the countertop, she shrugged. “A rat? Captain, was there any substance in the world that didn’t become one of your vices?”
He answered with a dramatic chin drop. “I’m proud to say that despite a pronounced predilection toward parsnips, I was always able to practice moderation with my consumption of root vegetables.”
Bracing her hands on the countertop, she sighed. “Dare I even ask what use you have for the rat?”
A frown tugged at his brows. “Nothing. I just miss being around rats.”
Backing away from the counter, she paced the kitchen floor. “Listen to me carefully. I’m going to take a bath.”
“I’ll join you! I could use one myself.”
“No. I want some private time without interruptions. After my bath, I’m going to do a little homework and relax, because tonight I have social plans.”
“Aye. Might we expect a toothsome young lad to do some parlor calling?”
“No, at seven o’clock I will be meeting a man downtown for a drink.”
He winked. “Earning waterfront wages, are we? Flashing your knickers to gents for two pence?” The captain’s lips pouted beneath a walrus mustache. “Perhaps this is an illicit convergence of some sort involving a lonely longshoreman?”
“Wrong on all counts, Captain. My God, what a dirty mind you’ve got. We call them ‘dates.’ It’s a chance for people to get to know each other without necessarily having to exchange money or proposals of marriage on the first meeting.”
He shrugged. “I don’t understand the modern world. Social commerce between the sexes used to be so simple. In my day, when men and women met, it was always for one of three options. Marriage, money, and what was the third...?”
“Captain, if you behave yourself and lie low for a little while, I promise to buy you a bottle of rum. Even though you’re a freaking ghost and can’t even drink it. I’ll leave the cap off so you can sniff it to your heart’s content and get high on the fumes.”
Shivering with delight, he grinned, baring crimson teeth. “Bonny lass! You’d do that for me?”
“Yes, but I expect quiet and privacy in return. Do we have a deal?”
“Aye, my wee trollopy grog bunny.”
“Don’t call me that!” She walked to the bathroom, entered, and closed the door. The Zen-like room was decorated with black marble and sleek fixtures. A narrow window faced onto a private garden filled with Jurassic-era tree ferns. She turned the chrome faucet. Water bubbled into the tub. Uncorking a special bottle of Circe’s Secret bath gel that Fredi had made last Christmas, she drizzled the fragrant viridian-green fluid into the bath. Without meaning to, she added too much. The clean scent of lavender and poppy filled the air as the suds nearly overflowed the sides. “Oops!”
Turning the water off, she twisted her shoulder-length black hair into a topknot, undressed, and climbed into the tub. The water was warm, the view beyond the window soothing. As she slipped lower into the suds, she closed her eyes. All her cares fled.
And then she woke to Captain Manx hovering over her.
“Hey!” She jumped, causing a big splash. The water was cold. “What the hell? I wanted some privacy!”
“Miss, don’t you have a planned rendezvous with a lad at seven bells?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a quarter of the rose to seven now.”
“Holy guacamole!” Estele reached for a towel. Where did the time go? “Get out, I need to get dressed!”
The captain bowed. “I’ve taken the liberty of laying out tonight’s trousseau for you.”
“What? I know you mean well, but please stay out of my closet.” With the towel wrapped around her, she drained the tub and shuffled into the bedroom. The broad window facing the ocean revealed the sun was low in the sky. The first moments of brilliant pink sunset reflected off the waves. The freeway was congested, and there appeared to be a lot of activity taking place at the fairgrounds. Dozens of brightly painted big rigs dominated the parking lot.
Glancing at the bed, she saw a complete outfit arranged exactly the way it would look on her body, laid with obvious care across her mattress. A strand of crimson Bohemian glass beads topped a white retro dress with a cheerful cherry print. A dainty pair of red platform shoes with faux cherries on the toes completed the set. The combination wasn’t bad at all. She slipped the beads over her head and knotted them.
“Miss,” the captain called through a crack in the door. “If I might be so bold as to suggest, the red satin push-up brassiere and lace tap pants would make convivial companions to the fruity dress.”
“Thank you, Captain. Would you please close that door?” Opening the underwear drawer, she saw the satin tap pants set on top and reached for them. “Just this once, I will take your advice.”
“You’re welcome, miss. I’m delighted to be of service to a landlocked siren such as you. After tonight’s jaunt to the seamier side to partake in alcoholic beverages in the company of a stranger, is there any chance you might bringing me home a packet of Morpheus powder to compose my nerves?”
She wriggled into the underwear. “No. Sorry. Nobody sells Morpheus powder anymore.”
“Dribbling damnation, the world’s a bleaker place because of it.” He released a long hiss of disappointment that sounded like a teakettle come to a boil.
There was little time to get ready for a date with someone as terrific as Val. With energy Estele sped through the simplest tasks as fast as possible. While zipping the dress, she darted into the bathroom to apply cat-eye liner, scarlet lipstick, and give her hair a thorough brushing. Picking up a pair of manicure scissors, she gave the straight line of her short bangs the slightest trim.
Hurrying out of the bedroom, she discovered Captain Manx peering into her purse. “Captain! A lady’s handbag is a sacred space.”
He stared into the depths of the bag with his face slack. “What is that?”
She took hold of the purse. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“The stone.” He appeared stricken. “While you were dressing, it started to glow inside your purse. I saw its crimson beacon shining and walked over to investigate and...”
“And what?”
His lips trembled. “I touched it. Barely a tap, and horrible memories arose. Unbearable things I don’t want to remember, ever.”
“Like?”
The captain’s eyes turned liquid. “The drowning rats on my ship weren’t rats at all.”
Remembering Griselda’s comment that the Heart of Hecate brought clarity, she paused. Maybe the poor old captain was finally dealing with what had brought him to the asylum in the first place? “This sounds like a conversation we should have after I return.”
“Or never. I don’t wish to remember that part of my life.”
“Well, this is the afterlife.”
He gazed at her purse with dread. “Must that foul object remain in this dwelling?”
Closing the purse, she moved it away from the captain. “I’ll take it with me. You won’t be bothered by it. While I’m away, promise me you’ll be good. No mischief, please.”
“Aye,” he grumbled.
Walking out the front door, she locked it. “My Goddess, the things you have to put up with to get affordable rent.” Descending the steps, she felt real excitement. The plastic cherries on the straps of her shoes looked festive. She was grateful the captain had encouraged her to wear something girlier than she might have chosen on her own.
Opening the driver-side door of the car, she tossed her purse on the passenger seat and climbed in. Inserting the key, she smiled at the cheerful sound of the indestructible VW’s engine. Putting the car in gear, she headed down the steep driveway and drove west along the hillside road that wound its way toward the downtown area. The setting sun blasted through the windshield and made her squint.
On such a balmy summer evening, finding a parking space near the Voodoo Hoodoo cocktail lounge would be a challenge. She reached for the Parking Fairy talisman that dangled from the rearview mirror. Using enchantment to maintain a personal minion to locate parking spaces in crowded multilevel structures and urban areas had been one of her better ideas. She grasped a green fluorite crystal attached to a long strand of green beads and muttered, “Parking Fairy, I summon thee.”
The glove compartment opened. An emerald spark appeared and zipped around the interior of the car.
It was always such a joyful sight when the fairy appeared. “Fae, look at these shoes. Aren’t they cute?”
The green spark did a fly-by, gliding over the gas pedal and making tiny meowing sounds.
“Thank you. The shoes are new. I appreciate your vote of approval.”
The Fae droned a loud irritated machine hum that sounded like a drunken wasp in an echo chamber.
“Calm down, Fae. Don’t get so pissy. I didn’t mean it. I always forget the Fae hate thank—” She paused. “You-know-what. Jeez, the no-thank-you tradition seems so archaic. Why can’t you accept that I want to thank you for your help?”
Buzz, buzz, buzzzz buzzzzzzz! Hysterical, high-pitched hornet-like humming followed by bursts of spitting green sparks stung Estele’s bare ankles like the strike of mini bazooka shells.
“Ouch! Stop already. Parking Fairy, accept my apology. I’m sorry.”
The Fae answered with a soft meow and a cascade of glittering green sparkles.
“Apology accepted? That’s the sweet Fae I love having on my dashboard. Now listen carefully. You need to find me a decent parking space near the Voodoo Hoodoo cocktail lounge. There is no way I can walk far in these shoes.”
Rolling the window down, she waited for the fairy to exit and zip ahead. Within seconds the tiny green ember zigged and zagged in front of her car before speeding ahead and disappearing into the distance.
Estele waved. “There she goes! Find me a good parking space.”