Macy Beckett - Make You Mine

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Allie Mauvais noticed her customers gaze darting, once again, to the legal disclaimer mounted on the wall above the list of two-for-one bakery specials. Something in the stiff set of the womans shoulders told Allie shed come to the Sweet Spot looking for more than a chocolate-chip muffin.

Most people did.

Thats state-mandatedjust ignore it. Allie reached over the counter to squeeze the young blondes hand. No wedding ring. She probably wanted a love charm. Unless youre checking out the scones, in which case, go with the brown sugar pecan. Its better than sex.

The woman released a shaky laugh and nodded at the trays of crullers displayed behind glass doors. She looked vaguely familiar, but Allie couldnt place her. Smells like heaven in here. I can already feel my waist expanding.

Calories dont count in my shop, baby, Allie said with a wink. Voodoo priestess, remember? Isnt that why youre here?

The girl chewed her bottom lip and squeezed her leather clutch hard enough to choke the little Dooney & Bourke duck. Um . . . kind of. I drove up from Cedar Bayou.

Hey, Im from Cedar Bayou!

I know. We went to school together. You were a few years ahead of me, though. She peeked up through her lashes and added, Shannon Tucker? You probably dont remem

Oh, Allie interrupted as the pieces clicked. Jimmys little sister, right? You ran the school paper.

Yeah. Shannon grinned, losing an inch of height as her posture relaxed. I cant believe you recognize me. I never had the guts to talk to you.

Not surprising. The upside of being a direct descendant of New Orleanss most infamous voodoo queen was that people didnt screw with Allie, not even when the Saints lost the Super Bowl. Sure, the whole parish had blamed her, just as they had the time Sheriff Benson broke out in shingles, but theyd done it quietly from their living rooms. Even when shed escaped to the city, the locals had pegged her for Juliette Mauvaiss great-great-granddaughter. The eyes gave her awayone amber, one gray, just like Memres.

But the upside was also the downside.

Allie wanted someone to screw with her once in a while. The men from her superstitious parish werent brave enough to risk the Mauvais curse and ask her out, not that she found any of them particularly appealing. Well, except for one, but his tendency to cross to the other side of the street when she walked by put a damper on their would-be love affair.

Youre talking to me now, Allie said. If she couldnt find romance herself, at least she could spread the love for others. What brings you in?

Shannon cleared her throat and leaned forward, lowering her voice despite the fact that they had the whole shop to themselves. Ive heard you can see things.

Allie nodded. She could see all kinds of thingslike facial expressions and body language. The kinds of things anyone could see if they paid attention. She could hear, toothe subtle changes of inflection or tone that often contradicted the spoken word. People didnt need voodoo heritage to understand one another. They just had to turn off their iPhones and take their heads out of their asses every once in a while. Luckily, they had Allie to do it for them. Maybe she didnt have magical powers, but she gave her clients the prodding they needed to find happiness.

My friends say you can read the bones, Shannon whispered, then immediately straightened and clarified, not that I believe in all that.

A smile tipped the corners of Allies mouth. Of course Shannon believed in all that. Everyone in Cedar Bayou did, whether they admitted it or not. They claimed such nonsense was beneath them, but they still came, still defaced Memres tomb with markings and oddball trinkets in exchange for favors from her spirit. Voodoo was rooted deeper than the tupelo gum trees in these swamps. It was tangled up with good Catholic upbringing until no one could separate one from the other. Even Allie attended Mass each Sunday morning, right before returning home to assemble gris-gris bags for her customers protection and luck.

Around here, everyone believed, even if they didnt.

That said, Allie had more faith in the power of the human psyche than in Memres curses or Father Durands holy water. The mind was a powerful thing, and she knew how to direct it. She pulled her mat from beneath the counter and spread it on the Formica surface, then asked, What do you want me to look for?

A light flush stained Shannons cheeks. I want to know if you see anyone . . . you knowswallowing hardspecial . . . in my future.

Ah. A love charm, just as Allie had predicted. Ill do my best, but you need to understand something first.

Whats that?

The spirits only reward the faithful. She traced one pink-polished index finger around the circle inked on to her mat. Youve got to trust them. Can you do that?

Shannon nodded.

Because if you cant, were wasting our time.

Ill believe.

Okay. Reaching below the cash register, Allie pulled out a small Tupperware bowl full of bleached chicken bones from the Popeyes three-piece meal shed scarfed down last week. She had no clue how to perform this ritualfew folks did these daysbut nobody needed to know that. She set down the container and reached for Shannons hands. First, well say a prayer.

Shannon quirked a brow. To God?

Of course. Who else?

Oh, okay.

Dont believe what Hollywood tells you. Voodoos not evil.

Sorry. I didnt realize . . .

Allie was used to it by now. Dark magic, the kind Memre had supposedly used in her curses, was considered by believers to be hazardous to the soul, though the general public didnt know that. Most voodoo doctors and queens used their gifts to benefit others. Though it was psychology, not voodoo, at the heart of what Allie did, she considered herself a healer all the same.

The two linked fingers, bowed their heads, and asked for guidance in finding Shannons life partner. After amen, Allie scattered the small bones within the circle. While she hunched over the mat, pretending to study the significance in the patterns, she searched her memory of the parish for anything useful that might lead to a match. Shed spent her childhood on the outside looking in, but shed always paid attention.

Someoned had a mad crush on Shannon. . . . Who was it? Allie closed her eyes and considered a moment, trying to summon his image. Finally, the answer came. John Paul Romain, the simple-but-cute alligator farmer who lived on the bayou with his grandpre. Hed pined after Shannon like nobodys businesseveryone knew he was sweet on her. More importantly, JP was good people, and still single the last time Allie went home to visit. Her instincts told her the pair could make a great fit, but that Shannon needed to work for it before shed appreciate an unsophisticated good ol boy like JP.

See this bone, here? Allie said, pointing to what remained of her Cajun-fried drumstick. Its the largest and most important, but its near the bottom of the circle, like its been discarded. This tells me youve already found your match, but you turned him away. She glanced at Shannon and asked, Have you snubbed anyone who genuinely cared for you?

Slowly, Shannons eyes widened. Well . . . yes, but that was

Ooooh. Allie sucked a sharp breath through her teeth. Thats bad. The spirits of our ancestors dont like it when we ignore their help.