Charmed Ever After (The Halloween LaVeau Series Book 6) (11 page)

“I’ll just cast a spell so that we can open it,” my mother said.

I wasn’t sure that would work, but regardless, she was going to give it a shot. She waved her arms in the air and recited the words. The thing sizzled and zapped. The power of her spell zoomed around through the air. Then she stopped and we looked at the trunk. I guessed she had expected the lid to just pop up on its own right after she cast her spell. It was never that easy. She should know that by now.

My mother looked at me. “What do you think went wrong? Do you think my magic isn’t working anymore?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about that, and don’t say such things. Your magic is just fine, but I’m sure there’s some sort of magic spell on this trunk so that not just anyone can open it. If it were that easy, someone would’ve already taken whatever’s inside by now. Just take a deep breath and don’t worry. We’ll figure it out,” I said.

My words obviously had done nothing to make her feel better because she looked like she was on the verge of tears. I hugged her and explained again that her magic was just fine. I could’ve told her she would just have to suck it up, buttercup, and that I’d been dealing with this kind of magic for years and I was doing fine. Okay, maybe I wasn’t doing fine, but I was getting by and that was good. Okay, maybe I wasn’t getting by the moment… I’d just leave it at that.

“Y’all, I know how to open this thing. Just stand back and let me do magic.” Annabelle gestured.

I just stared at Annabelle, then finally, I said, “You don’t know how to do magic.”

“I have my own type of magic,” she said. “Do you have a screwdriver?”

My mother shook her head and then ran into the kitchen. She came back with the screwdriver in hand.

“You’re not going to break the thing, are you?” I asked.

“What do I look like, a novice? I’m a professional at this. Now stand back and watch me do my magic.” Annabelle took the screwdriver.

I certainly hoped this worked.

Annabelle fumbled around with the screwdriver for a bit. I was convinced she was going to break the trunk and then I would have to explain to Nicolas why I had broken this obvious antique. I hoped I had a chance to explain. I didn’t want to think about never seeing him again. All of a sudden Annabelle popped the trunk open.

“You got it,” my mother yelled.

Annabelle handed the screwdriver back. “I told you I’m a professional. I can perform magic too.”

“Now we need it to see what’s inside,” my mother said.

We hurried over and peered down into the trunk. White fabric with beautiful lace filled the space. We exchanged a look and I reached down and pulled on the material. Trims of lace edged the plunging necklace and it had a tapered waist. The dress was fitted through the body and flared out at the back. It was breathtakingly gorgeous. 

“It’s a dress,” my mother said.

“A wedding dress,” Annabelle said.

“Do you think Nicolas was going to give it to me?” I asked.

“Why else would he have a wedding gown?” my mother said.

“Yeah, but where did he get it?” I asked.

My mother took the dress from me. “I’m not sure, but it’s gorgeous.” She held the dress up.

“You should try it,” Annabelle said.

“Yes, I want to see it on you,” my mother added.

I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“He obviously wants you to see it. That’s why he told you to get the trunk. Now go try this on.” My mother shoved the dress at me.

I took the gown into her bedroom and placed it on the bed for a moment in order to stare at it. I smoothed it out so that I could see every single detail… like the little pearls that decorated the bodice. There was definitely something special about this dress. It was almost as if I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Finally, I slipped into the gown.

Looking into the full-length mirror, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The dress was absolutely gorgeous, but there was something odd about it. Maybe not so much about the dress, but about the way I felt while wearing it. A tingling sensation vibrated through my body that I’d never felt before.

My mother and Annabelle stepped into the room. They gasped as soon as they saw me.

“You look fantastic. It’s such a beautiful dress,” Annabelle said.

“It fits you perfectly,” my mother said.

I couldn’t quite make out what else they were saying. Things became fuzzy and the room felt as if it was closing in on me. The next thing I knew, my legs grew weak and I fell to the ground. Everything went totally black. My mother called out to me and then Annabelle asked me to open my eyes. Light appeared again. They were standing over me.

“Are you all right? Talk to us, Hallie,” Annabel said.

“What happened?” I asked as I rubbed my head.

“You passed out,” my mother said as she helped me to a sitting position.

When I looked down and saw the white dress, I remembered what had happened. Things just didn’t feel right while wearing this thing.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of that dress,” my mother said.

They put their arms around me and helped me up from the floor. I was eager to get out of the dress. I didn’t know what was making me feel this way. My mother unzipped the back and I stepped out of the dress. Annabelle picked it up from the floor.

“Are you okay?” my mother asked, brushing the hair off of my face.

“I feel much better now that I took off the dress,” I said.

“I don’t think the dress should go back in the trunk right now.” My mother pulled out a hanger from her closet. “I’ll hang it up right here for safekeeping. When we find Nicolas we can give it back.”

“You’d better place a spell around your house again. I don’t know if someone is looking for the dress or the trunk. The most important thing right now is that we find Nicolas and Liam.”

“How do we find them? The only clue we have right now is that they left the bar with a man and woman,” Annabelle said.

“They could be with anyone,” my mother said.

“Yes, that’s why we have to narrow it down,” I said.

“Sounds like you have a plan.” My mother eyed me suspiciously.

“You could say that. I was thinking what if we go back to the bar? The Raleigh Company in the French Quarter?”

“But they might hit you with that spell… the one that turns people into a statue,” Annabelle said.

“I know, but there has to be a way for us to get back in and get information about this man and woman Liam and Nicolas went to meet. I’ve been writing down my spells in the book. Don’t think I’m crazy, but I think we should have you try a spell I did before. The one that changes our appearance.”

My mother frowned. “Do you think I can do that? It’s a powerful spell.”

“Well, I wrote it down. It might work for us to get into the bar.”

She took the book from me and turned the pages to the one where I’d written down the spell. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.”

“We won’t know until we try,” I said.

“I think it sounds like a fantastic idea,” Annabelle said.

“We should drive there first because I don’t think the spell will last long,” I said.

“Okay, but how do you think we should change our appearance?” my mother asked.

I motioned toward the door. “Okay, here’s the part where you don’t laugh. I think we should change into men.”

“This should be interesting,” Annabelle said.

“I think it’s safe to go outside, but we have to hurry,” I said.

We ran outside and rushed into Annabelle’s car. We pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of the French Quarter. I’d done this spell one other time when I’d pretended to be Liam. It had actually been kind of funny.

The drive seemed to take forever. We had to pass the plantation as we drove. I wanted to stop by again just to check. Maybe Liam had returned. My mother and Annabelle talked me out of it.

“Things haven’t changed. He would call you if he was there,” my mother said.

I knew she was right, but part of me wanted to believe that they were there. Maybe he’d just arrived. Nonetheless, we didn’t stop and kept on toward the French Quarter. I stared out at the trees and remembered all the times I’d driven this road with Liam and Nicolas. I had to push these thoughts out of my mind for the time being.  

I worried if my mother really could pull off the spell. We finally pulled up to the bar and found a parking space.

“When should we do the spell?” my mother asked.

I handed her the book. “I guess now is as good as any time.”

My mother looked at the door to the bar and then down at the spellbook. She blew out a deep breath. “Here goes.”

She recited the words that I’d written in the book. “Change our appearance. Make us unrecognizable.” She waved her hands through the air.

This was a little scary to think of what we could look like if things went wrong. She could turn us into hideous monsters for all I knew. I would keep a positive attitude and hope that didn’t happen. I knew Annabelle was nervous about what was about to happen too. I had to keep faith that my mother knew what she was doing. She’d always been great with her magic and I doubted that would change now. I closed my eyes while she did it. Not that that would help anyway.  

A zap of energy zoomed through the car. Nothing else seemed much different. My stomach sank when I realized that the spell hadn’t worked. But then I looked at Annabelle and then my mother. Well, at least I looked at the spots where they’d been sitting.

“Mom? Annabelle? Is that you?”

I hoped so, otherwise they’d slipped out without me noticing and men had gotten into the car with me. Behind the wheel was a man in his mid-fifties with gray hair and dark eyes. In the passenger seat was a younger man with blond hair. He had striking features. The blond looked back and screamed. Definitely not a male voice. Yes, that was Annabelle’s scream. She had short blond hair and chiseled features. Definitely male model material. Annabelle stared at me with her new dazzling green eyes.

“Annabelle, it’s me, Hallie.” I wondered what kind of hair I’d gotten.

She laughed and pointed. “You’re hilarious.”

My mother looked back and laughed too.

“What is so funny?” I leaned forward and looked in the rear-view mirror. “I’m bald! You made me bald? That’s not funny. Why does Annabelle get to be the good-looking one? Why does my skin look all wrinkly? Did I injure my nose? It seems swollen.” Okay, so I wasn’t male model material. I looked more like a great-grandpa. 

“Halloween, you’re good-looking too. Just in your own way.” Annabelle bit back laughter.

“Yeah, not in the Brad Pitt model looks kind of way though.”

My mother and Annabelle laughed again.

“Sorry, Halloween,” my mother said sheepishly.

“Whatever, let’s just get on with this. We need to get in there. Remember, act like men.”

“So we should belch and tell stupid jokes?” Annabelle asked.

“Oh, I know,” my mother said, raising her hand as if this was a pop quiz. “Pass a lot of gas.”

I opened the car door. “Try not to be obnoxious men.”

Annabelle stuffed her hands in her pockets and ambled toward the door. Was she going for the cowboy look? As if she’d just hopped off her horse? Maybe her feet hurt? Either way, it wasn’t a good look for her. Her gait looked like a cross between a seventies dance and a seizure. We really didn’t need to draw that much attention to ourselves. 

“You’re not John Wayne,” I said. “Just walk normal.”

She sashayed to the door.

I waved my arms, hoping that no one had noticed her. “Okay, in between. Make it a mix between the two.”

We stepped into the dark bar. There were quite a few more people this time than when we’d first come here. No one seemed to pay any attention to us. This was a good thing under the circumstances. I wasn’t sure how long I could pull off this act. I had to think about every move I made. Loud music played in the background and the smell of liquor hung in the air.  

“What should we do now?” Annabelle yelled over the thumping rhythm.

“We’ll go to the bar and have a drink,” I said in my best male voice. 

“Nice try.” My mother chuckled.

“Hey, I thought it sounded pretty darn good.”

We headed toward the bar. A pretty brunette walked by.

“Hey, babe, can I buy you a drink?” Annabelle asked in her worst male voice.

The woman gave her a strange look and then hurried away. I had expected her to toss her drink in Annabelle’s face. What if the woman had said yes? That would have been fun to watch Annabelle get out of that. The woman glanced back a couple times to make sure Annabelle wasn’t following her. I hoped she didn’t have a boyfriend and bring him over. 

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Just trying to be a guy.”

“Annabelle, don’t hit on the women,” I said.

“Isn’t that what guys do?” she asked.