Page 21 of Xavier

Lissette stood, pushed the storage room door open, and stepped out, shaking her head. “Well, that part of the spell was clear. I’m the only one who can see the mark.” She placed the candle on the counter and paced toward the front of the shop.

Footsteps sounded behind her. “What mark?” Xavier asked for the third time.

She turned toward him. “You can’t see it. Only I can.”

“What does it look like?” he asked, his tone less patient.

“It’s a sword that has a tip more like an arrow.” She held out her arm.

Again, he looked at her wrist, his lips pressing together. “Not there.”

“I could see it in the dark room by the light of the candle.” She raised her arm and rubbed the spot. “It was there and very clear to me.”

“If you’re pulling my leg, you can stop now.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not funny.”

She faced him, feet apart, hands fisted at her sides. “I don’t think any of this is funny. In fact, I don’t think it’s funny at all. I perform one lousy spell and I get this—” she pointed her hand toward the candle, “a marking I can’t see except by moonlight or candlelight. The only good it’s done is to indicate the spell is working. Now, I have to figure out how it will help me find the lost items.”

Xavier shook his head. “You’re not making any sense. A spell? A mark that can’t be seen?” He stared at her, eyes narrowing. “You seriously believe magic is real,” he said, his tone more a statement of wonder than a question.

“It’s real, all right. And now I have to use whatever gift it has given me to locate the items that have been stolen or lost. How it’s supposed to work is still a mystery to me. But it wouldn’t have given me the mark unless it is truly working and will lead me to where those items are located.”

“You think an incantation will lead you to the lost or stolen items?” Xavier shook his head. “Impossible, since magic isn’t real.”

“Look, I don’t normally go around telling people I believe in the magic of Voodoo because of the exact reaction you’re having right now.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “And that is?”

“You now think I’m crazy.” She turned away and paced again. “I only told you because I feel like I owe you for saving me twice.”

“I still think you should report last night’s attack to the sheriff’s office,” Xavier said.

She turned and walked back to him. “I can’t. If they find out I got that reliquary back by contacting one of the people I knew from my sordid past, a not-so-innocent man who knows how to move stolen property through the bayou, my parole officer could end my parole and send me back to jail for the rest of my sentence.”

“Which is?”

“Ten more years,” she said, her voice rising with panic. “I can’t go back there. I won’t.” She touched his arm. “Please, don’t tell the sheriff’s office about the reliquary or that I was in contact with criminals from my former life.”

“Then why are you chasing these stolen artifacts if you don’t want to get caught with thieves and other criminals?”

Lissette’s fists clenched as anger surged in her chest. “For one, they took my family’s reliquary and all the workings from four generations of Gautier practitioners. They belong to us. They were placed there to protect the family. Since they’ve been gone, my grandmother fell and sprained her ankle.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Xavier’s tone and expression were full of concern. “When did it happen?”

“Yesterday,” Lissette said. “And while Gisele’s been gone, a cat got into the Mamba Wamba gift shop and tried to get to Johnny, her Macaw. It tipped the cage over and nearly gave Johnny a heart attack. If I hadn’t gone in there to check on things yesterday morning, either the bird would have flapped himself to death or the cat might have managed to have him for breakfast.”

“Wow,” Xavier said. “Poor Johnny.”

“I know, right? I don’t even like the bird, but I don’t want him dying on my watch.” Lissette drew in a breath and continued. “Gisele and Rafael’s vacation started the day before with delayed flights, lost baggage and now Gisele is in Mexico with Montezuma’s revenge.” She touched Xavier’s arm. “You see? We need those items back where they belong or bad things will continue to happen.”

“You think the loss of your family’s reli...” he flung out a hand, “whatever you called it, is what’s causing your family’s string of bad luck?”

Was the man thick-headed? “Yes, of course.”

“All those things could have been just bad luck. Coincidental,” Xavier said. “They could have happened even if your family relics were still in the tomb.”

“Then why else would it all be happening at once?” She met his gaze and held it, anger and frustration burbling in her chest. “Even my cousin Holly has been affected. She had a two-by-four fall on her head just yesterday, and I’ve been attacked twice in less than a week. I have to do something to recover our protections. We’re doomed without them.”

“Simon and Holly are renovating that old houseboat,” Xavier said. “Things are bound to happen doing that kind of work. And they might be getting careless working faster to get ahead of the hurricane headed our way.”