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cool ice cream livened up my taste buds
and slid down my throat with practiced ease. We’d been eating
liquid lunches for the past week, ever since Keisha tossed a scoop
of Chocolate Raspberry Truffle together with two scoops of
Raspberry Cheesecake on a whim and blended them into a frothy
concoction of wickedness. I slurped up some more while Keisha hung
her coat over mine on the rack and we sat down in the living room. While a hundred issues prodded at my brain, there seemed to be a
steel door keeping the majority of them at bay, and I didn’t feel
like talking, mostly because at the forefront of those issues was
Luc instead of Gabriel. Which was wrong. Very wrong. And yet I
couldn’t remember why.
    Keisha seemed to sense my need for mindless
distraction and reached for the TV remote. She was still pining for
her own reality TV show—no surprise she landed on Bravo and
turned up the volume.
    I tried to get lost in the show’s artificial
drama and my shake’s semi-artificial chocolate and raspberry
overdose, but when Keisha jumped up at a commercial break and
stated she had to use the bathroom, I realized I was still stewing
about Luc. And Gabriel. But mostly Luc.
    He’d said Keisha and my other friends could
be in danger if Gabe returned. If that were the case, I had to send
Keisha back downstairs to the shop. Get her out of harm’s way. When
she returned to the living room, however, all I could think to say
was, “Did you see Rachel’s shoes in that last segment? Wonder if
they come in purple?”
    She gave me a weird look. Oops, my brain
must have shorted out again. “We’ll check Piperlime after the show,
okay?”
    I was about to agree when the doorbell ding-donged behind me.
    This time, Emilia stood on my doorstep. She
held up a wreath, decorated with spring flowers, in one hand, and a
bag of potpourri, made from herbs out of her garden, in the other. “Spring has sprung,” she said, much too cheerfully. “Time to spruce
up your place.”
    Emilia still felt guilty for trying to kill
me and my Witches Anonymous friends at Halloween the previous year
even though it was really Gabriel’s fault, since he’d been using
her to destroy humankind and set himself up as a god. She’d been
the reason Luc and I broke up as well, but she was happy I was no
longer with him, and even though she was horrified that she’d slept with him, she’d sort of blanked that part out. Since her return at Christmas, she’d been doting on me like a
mother, bringing me everything from casseroles to her handcrafted
soaps and lotions.
    Taking the old wreath off my door—one she
had created as well—she hung the new one up. In between the purple
hyacinth and white irises, I noticed heather, marjoram and
asafetida. Protection herbs. “There,” she said. “What do you
think?”
    I thought my sister was on a mission to try
and protect me in her own Wiccan way. Which was sweet, but how had
she found out I needed protection?
    Keisha peeked over my shoulder, the source,
no doubt, of my angel news. “Wow, Em. That’s beautiful. Can you
make me one of those?”
    Apparently I wasn’t the only one afraid of
unwelcome angelic visitors. I had my doubts, though, that any herbs
could offer that kind of protection.
    “Of course.” Emilia pushed her way through
the door, set the old wreath on the floor and did a quick scan of
the living room. “I need a couple of bowls for the potpourri.”
    She took off for the kitchen, Keisha
following her.
    I started to shut the door, when a familiar
voice said, “Hello, Amy. How are you feeling?”
    Father Leonard’s face was flushed and he was
breathing hard, as if he’d run up the steps to my apartment door. “Father? What are you doing here?”
    “We didn’t get our session in and I was
worried about you. I did some research on soul taking. It’s…complicated.” He handed me a manila file folder and shrugged
off his coat. “Remember what I said about the soul being tied to
free will?”