Free Witches of Bourbon Street by Deanna Chase Page A

vision. “How? When?” I whispered in a shaky voice.
    “We’ll have to summon the three sisters from Hell, extract their souls from the voodoo dolls and their spirits from the portraits, and then reconnect both with their physical bodies. Meri will be an issue, but if her soul isn’t too far gone, the rejoining will weaken her, and we should be able to banish her back to Hell, where demons belong. Hopefully, Felicia will lead us to your mother.” Bea glanced at her calendar. “It’s best if we do it during the full moon. That gives us two days.” She eyed me. “You have work to do. I’ll need every bit of your strength to make this happen.”
    I barely registered Kane’s apprehension or the hand he clasped around my arm. “Anything. Where do we start?”
    “With Lailah.” Bea rose and crossed back to her desk. She pulled out a thick leather-bound volume. Only a lone pentagram graced the cover. “We’ll need her strength to deal with the demon. It’s her specialty. Plus, she might be of some use in finding out what your friend Dan has to do with this.”
    “Excuse me, but can you explain something?” Pyper asked Bea. “Why would anyone split someone’s spirit and soul from their body? Especially if the person is in Hell?”
    Bea pursed her lips. “Without knowing the details, I can’t say. But they could have been trying to save Felicia and Priscilla. Being trapped in Hell would make it hard to not turn to black magic. That’s just as bad as an angel falling.”
    I froze. “What about my mom? Can she have survived this long?”
    “We can’t know until we find her,” Bea said gently.
    Silence filled the room, until finally Bea flipped to the back of her book and ran her finger down a list in the appendix.
    Pyper cleared her throat. “How are angels different from witches?”
    I sent her a silent thanks for thinking of all the questions I was too preoccupied to ask.
    Bea cocked her head and eyed my friend. “They’re here to help people. God gives them special powers to aid them in their journey, but if they abuse them, they fall.” Her eyes turned sad and wary. “It’s a heavy burden to bear.”
    Fall. If Lailah slipped up, she’d turn demon and be banished to Hell. I shuddered, wondering how bad she’d have to screw up to suffer that fate.
    Light steps sounded on the porch. I looked up just in time to see Lailah stroll in, wearing a long peasant skirt and blouse cinched at her waist with a knitted belt. With her long, blond hair, she looked like she’d just stepped out of a nineteen-seventy’s fashion magazine.
    Her smile vanished the instant she spotted us at the table. Something vaguely resembling unease crossed over her features. She waved, pulled a small tin out of her felted purse, and then handed it to Bea. “I have the supplements you asked for.”
    “Thank you.” Bea popped the tin open and shook out two green pills, downing them with the last of her tea. She smiled at my worried expression. “Just a precaution. I’m fine.” She took two steps and stumbled before grabbing the back of one of her wing chairs. Her face turned pasty white right before she crumbled to the floor.
    “Bea!” I cried, springing from my chair.
    Her eyes fluttered open and her breath came in short, labored huffs. “Poison.”
    “Oh my God.” I fumbled in my back pocket for my phone. It slipped from my grip and slid under the chair. “Damn it. Someone call nine-one-one.”
    “No,” Bea said with enough force I almost believed it had been a false alarm. But when I touched her arm, her skin burned. “It’s a curse. Only a witch can fix it.”
    Hatred seeped from my pores as I glared at Lailah. Was this the start of her impending demise? At that moment, I didn’t give a shit about what happened to her. I focused once again on Bea. “Where can I find the coven’s numbers?”
    Lailah appeared next to me, her face pinched with fear and panic. “They can’t help. She needs a white witch. You need