Kiss and Spell (11 Valentine's Day Paranormal Short Stories) Read online

  A Bourbon Street Valentine

  By

  Deanna Chase

  Copyright 2016 Deanna Chase

  Bayou Moon Press, LLC

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form.

  This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Summary

  It’s Valentine’s Day and magic’s in the air. Only Kat Hart never expected her handmade jewelry to be at the center of everything. So when her night out at Cupid’s Ball turns into a competition to be a handsome stranger’s wife, it’s up to her to break the spell…or she might get more than she bargained for.

  Chapter One

  “I need something that’s going to be a panty-dropper.” The sweaty middle-aged man pumped his eyebrows and leered at me. “Know what I mean, red?”

  The shop spotlights glared off his balding head, making me squint as I tried to hide my distaste. We were in my studio gallery, Silver Kat Jewelry, and if I hadn’t needed to pay rent, I’d have refused to sell him anything. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Bourbon Street wasn’t cheap. Clearing my throat, I pointed to a pink diamond ring, set into a tasteful rose gold setting. “This style has proven to be a popular seller.”

  He pressed his lips together into a tight line. “Christ, red. That’s a lot of zeros in that price tag. I didn’t even spend that much on the wife.”

  Bile rose up in the back of my throat. The last thing I wanted to do was sell this jackass one of my handmade pieces of jewelry.

  “I see. Maybe I should direct you to this case—”

  The bell on my shop door chimed and a handsome, though relatively short man, strode in wearing a purple-velvet coat, black slacks, and stylish fedora hat. “Good morning. How is my favorite jeweler today?”

  “Good?” I gaped at the stranger, watching him stroll from case to case nodding his approval. He exuded confidence and had sex appeal to spare.

  He picked up a three-tiered chainmail necklace with an amber pendant. “Lovely. Truly remarkable.”

  A small bubble of warmth grew in my chest. It was always nice to have one’s work admired, especially by a handsome stranger. Hey, just because I had a boyfriend, didn’t mean I couldn’t look, right? I wasn’t dead. “Are you looking for a gift for your special someone?”

  The customer in front of me cleared his throat, clearly irritated. “I was here first.”

  The man in purple velvet smiled at him. “Of course you were. But don’t worry. I’m not here to purchase anything. I’m making a delivery.” He turned his attention to me. “Kat Hart?”

  “Yes?”

  “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He held out a small package wrapped in shiny royal blue paper.

  Delivery man? He was kidding right? He should be modeling for romance covers. I held my hand out eagerly. There was no doubt the gift was from my boyfriend Lucien. He’d been too busy working during the last week for us to spend much time together, but I should’ve known he wouldn’t forget Valentine’s Day.

  The man placed the box into my palm, his warm fingers barely brushing my wrist. A small shock zapped me and I jumped back, clutching the present. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry. Static.” He tipped his hat and headed for the door. After a few steps, he turned back. “Your admirer was insistent that I get it to you this morning. I think he wants to make sure you feel special all day.”

  The door chimed and he was gone.

  My fingers twitched to rip open the package, but I put it under the counter and gave my impatient customer my full attention. “Did you find anything you’d like to see?”

  “Aren’t you going to open your gift?” He leaned casually against the counter, his rush apparently forgotten.

  I waved a hand. “I can do that later. It’s no big deal.”

  “Sure it is. Go on. Open it. Besides, I could use some inspiration for what a woman your age would like.” He dropped his gaze to my cleavage, that ridiculous leer back on his face.

  A shudder of disgust ran through me, and I pulled the box out just to try to speed up his departure. Tearing gingerly at the gorgeous blue wrapping paper, I spied the robin’s-egg-blue gift box peeking through. I grinned and discarded the rest of the paper.

  “Big spender,” my customer said with a sneer.

  I ignored him and slowly pulled the top off. An audible gasp escaped my lips as I stared down at the Edwardian-style antique drop-pendant. Set in white gold, the large ruby center stone, was surrounded by a circle of flawless diamonds. It was gorgeous. And it must’ve cost a fortune.

  I nimbly clasped the gorgeous bauble around my neck. The precious metal was warm against my skin and made me tingle and feel special in a way I hadn’t ever felt before. Of course no one had ever given me such a beautiful gift before either.

  The balding man in front of me let out a frustrated grunt. “Elle’s ass isn’t that hot. Diamonds are not on the agenda.”

  It was tough, but I somehow managed to not roll my eyes at the jackhole in front of me. “Maybe something unique then?” I pulled out a silver cuff that had an E. E. Cummings poem etched on it.

  He frowned and started to shake his head, but as soon as I handed it to him, his entire demeanor changed. The tension eased from his shoulders, and a relieved smile lit his face. “Just the right price. Does that include gift wrap?”

  I gave him a tight smile. It did usually, but for him I was making an exception. “That’s an extra five dollars.”

  “Never mind. I have a grocery bag that will work just fine.”

  Of course he did. I hurried and completed his purchase. When the bell chimed, indicating he was gone from the store, I let out a sigh of relief, grabbed my phone, and hit Lucien’s name. His phone rang four times before it went to voicemail.

  “Lucien,” I gushed. “Thank you so much. I just got your gift, and it’s gorgeous. You really shouldn’t have. But I love it. It’s perfect. I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day.”

  I hit ‘End’ and tucked the phone into my back pocket just as the door chimed again. A clean-cut man wearing a gray suit rushed in, carrying a coffee cup with the words, The Grind, scrolled across it. I grinned. He’d been to my friend Pyper’s café, just a couple blocks down the street.

  “Good morning.” I unconsciously moved three steps to the right, stopping in front of my silver bracelet display. My gaze landed on a hammered, sterling silver cuff that had the word passion engraved on the back.

  “I need a gift for my girlfriend. We’re having breakfast in five minutes and if I show up empty handed, it’s going to be ugly.” Sweat popped out on his forehead as he fidgeted with his credit card.

  I pulled the cuff out of the case. “This is the one.”

  He picked it up and frowned as he inspected it.

  “Turn it over,” I said, knowing without a doubt this was the perfect item for him.

  His expression turned from skeptical to surprised delight when he read the inscription. Then he looked up and smiled at me. “That was amazing. How did you know?”

  I shrugged, having no earthly idea. The piece had just jumped out at me. And he was happy, so I was happy.

  Humming to myself, I rang him up and passed him the bag. Just before he left, I added, “Oh, wait. Take one of these.” Holding out a flier for a fundraiser to keep the Mystic Theatre in business, I smiled. It was a gorgeous place that had been built in the nineteen twenties. “If you really want to knock her socks off, take her to Cupid’s Ball tonight. It’s the event of the year, and there will be a gourmet buffet.”

  “Hmm, that would solve my reservation problem.” He grabbed the flier and nodded his appreciation. “Thanks.”

  The moment he slipped out the door
, another customer hurried in. He was tall and gangly, with tattoos covering both arms and gauges in his ears.

  “Of course I got you something, Esme baby,” he said into his iPhone while scanning my cases. “I got it weeks ago.”

  A vision of a dark-haired girl, dressed in a black lace tank top, poufy black tulle skirt, and spiked lace-up boots flashed in my mind. She wore zero jewelry, but had long elegant fingers. I imagined the pair of them hanging out back stage with the band at a rock concert.

  Reaching beneath the counter, I pulled out my newest creation; a large midnight-purple flower ring, covered in sparkling Swarovski crystals. I’d just finished it the night before and hadn’t yet put it out. I whispered, “How about something like this?”

  He studied it, then a slow smile lit his angular face as he spoke into the phone. “Babe, you’re going to love it. Relax.” Without missing a beat or even asking the price, he whipped out his credit card and mouthed, Gift wrap, please.

  A few minutes later when he was off the phone, he grabbed the wrapped box, stuffed the receipt in his pocket and said, “I don’t know how you did that, but you’re right. She’s going to love it.”

  I handed him one of the fliers, determined to give one to every customer. If the Art’s Council didn’t raise enough cash, the Mystic would be sold at auction, and there’d likely be no more theatre with the beautiful frescos on the ceiling. To me, it was the most gorgeous building in the city. “I hope so. Happy Valentine’s Day to both of you.”

  “You, too.”

  The same thing happened the rest of the morning. Customers came in, and for some strange reason, I felt compelled to recommend different pieces I was sure would be perfect for their significant others. Every one of them took my advice, and within a few hours, my day was already shaping up to be the most profitable of the year.

  The morning flew by in a blur, and it wasn’t until my stomach growled that I glanced at the clock. It was past one. Geez, no wonder I was starving. I hadn’t had anything but a coffee since the night before. I hurried to the front door, flipped the sign that indicated I’d be right back, and slipped out, locking up behind me.

  On my way to the sandwich shop, Lucien called.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, gorgeous,” he said, a smile in his tone.

  “I got my gift. It’s just lovely. Thank you.” I fingered the pendant as I hurried into a nearby sandwich shop.

  “You’re welcome. I—dammit. Kat, can I call you back? One of the council witches just walked into the lab.”

  “Of course. Or I’ll just see you at six-thirty.” I smiled at the impatient worker behind the deli counter and muttered, “The usual.”

  He nodded and went to work.

  “Six-thirty,” Lucien confirmed, and clicked off.

  The line went dead, and I wondered what emergency was happening at the Witch’s Council. Lucien had recently taken a job in the archives department. But more often than not, he was asked to help out when the caseworkers were overloaded. Since he was the second in command for New Orleans coven, he had a lot of practical skills. I just hoped he wasn’t dealing with any black magic.

  A shudder ran through me, and I shook my head, trying to force the thought from my mind. He’d be fine. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

  With my sandwich and soda in hand, I hurried back to my shop and sighed when there was a line five people deep outside the door. The bank account would be happy, but my stomach was going to have to wait.

  “Miss Hart?” A man in jeans and a T-shirt said, holding a giant bouquet of roses.

  “Yes?”

  “Delivery.” He pushed the long-stemmed, pink roses into my arms. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

  I stood there like an idiot, staring at the bouquet. The pendant had been more than enough. Then I tore open the card and grinned. Only the best for my girl, love Lucien.

  With a bounce in my step, I opened the door, dropped the flowers into a nearby vase, stored my lunch, and went to work helping all the last-minute shoppers make sure they didn’t end up in the doghouse when they got home.

  Chapter Two

  Jade, my best friend, held the door open for me and swept her arm out in a royal fashion. “After you, milady.”

  We’d both been stood up. Lucien had sent a text letting me know he was still tied up in Council business and was going to be late—if he even made it at all. Jade’s husband, Kane, a demon hunter, was also out on a call. Holidays were always the worst for the paranormal protectors of the city. They seemed to bring the worst out in some people.

  I laughed at Jade’s poor attempt at an English accent. “Who are you supposed to be? Hugh Grant?”

  “No.” She shook her head, her long strawberry blond hair flaring out around her. “More like Benedict Cumberbatch.”

  I shook my head, still chuckling. “Needs work. But he would’ve been an acceptable substitute.”

  “Right?” She slipped her arm through mine and we strolled into the Mystic Theatre.

  The seats had been removed, leaving a large ballroom lit with a series of crystal chandeliers. Tables were set up around the perimeter of the room, where guests were already enjoying elegantly crafted hors d’oeuvres.

  “Over there.” Jade pointed at the buffet at the back of the room. “I need food before I pass out. It’s been a hectic day.”

  “Lead on, wise one.” My stomach growled just thinking about it. The half-eaten sandwich I’d had for lunch was long gone.

  We took our time perusing the multitude of gourmet cheeses, fancy salads, and seafood choices. Not to mention drooling over the chocolate pots de crème and toffee crumble cheesecake. But we stuck with artichoke salads, tuna tartare, and filet medallions. The desserts could wait. Or so I thought.

  Halfway from the buffet to our table, Jade and I were suddenly cut off by a half-dozen women, their eyes bright and lips curved into pleased smiles.

  “Ms. Hart?” a short blonde in a sparkling silver dress asked.

  “Yes?” I glanced around, my gaze landing on a thin brunette with wild, curly dark hair. She wore a lace-covered bustier with a purple leather skirt, and spiked knee-high boots. I did a double take and instantly searched for the large, purple floral ring. It was right there on her left hand.

  Whoa. She was Esme, the girl I’d envisioned with the tattooed guy earlier in the day. A chill ran up my spine. At the time, I’d had no idea I’d been having a vision. I’d thought the girl was just someone I’d imagined him with.

  “I’m Elle. I wanted to let you know your work’s amazing,” the blonde gushed, holding out her arm. She wore the etched silver bracelet that I’d sold to the two-timing sleazebag earlier that morning.

  “Uh, thanks.” Curiosity took over as I realized they were all wearing pieces I’d sold that day. How in the world did they all know each other? Had an entire office staff done their shopping with me? “Looks like y’all are having a great Valentine’s Day.”

  “Thanks to you,” they said in unison, as they collectively took a step forward, closing ranks around us. Each of them lovingly touched the piece of jewelry they’d received that day. Their expressions were…off; too happy, as if forced.

  I gave Jade a what-the-hell look and cast my gaze toward our table, indicating we should get the heck out of there. These ladies were doing a weird interpretation of the Stepford Wives.

  She grinned at me, clearly not as alarmed as I was. In fact, not alarmed at all, even though a group of women I’d never met had accosted us.

  I widened my eyes at Jade, but she was laughing at something the curly-haired blonde wearing the hammered cuff had said.

  “Gosh, Kari, I’d have kicked him out of bed, too.” Jade covered her mouth to control her laughter.

  I tugged on her arm, unease making me back away. “Thanks, everyone. I’m truly honored you’re pleased with your pieces, but if you’ll excuse us, Jade and I are going to take our seats.” I lifted my plate, indicating it was time to eat. “You should really grab some dinner
before it gets too picked over.”

  Together, they all took a step back, and nodding, they immediately headed toward the buffet line. Jade said nothing as I led her toward our designated table.

  When we sat down, I stared at her. “What’s going on?”

  She stabbed a piece of steak with her fork. “What do you mean?”

  “Those women. Don’t you think something was a little weird?”

  She let out a tinkling laugh. “Oh, Kat. No. They were all filled with love. It was radiating off them. It was beautiful actually.”

  I frowned at her, noting her eyes were too bright and her smile was too wide. I snapped my fingers in front of her face. “Enough. You’re freaking me out.”

  She blinked and shook her head, confusion replacing her Stepford expression. “Weird.”

  “No kidding. Want to tell me what that was all about?”

  “I…whoa. I have no idea.” Jade picked at her tuna, but didn’t eat.

  I stuffed a forkful of the artichoke in my mouth, and after I swallowed, I asked, “Is it a spell of some sort?”

  She pursed her lips. “I’d feel it if it was, wouldn’t I?” Jade was a powerful white witch and the leader of the New Orleans coven. If anyone could feel a spell in the air, it was her.

  “I’d think so.”

  “All I feel is happiness and affection.” She turned her attention to the group of women who’d settled just a few tables away, her eyes going soft and unfocused for just a second. “No. They aren’t witches. There isn’t any power radiating from them. Maybe it’s just that their energy was rubbing off on me.”

  That was possible. Jade was also an empath, and if she wasn’t careful, other people’s emotions infiltrated hers. Blocking emotions out was always tougher in crowds and tended to deplete her reserves. I touched her arm, letting her know I was there if she needed an energy boost. I’d shared my energy with her many times over the years when she’d needed it.