“So, do you know what we’re supposed to do for this cleansin’?” Ryan asked as he closed the door behind us.
Glancing at him over my shoulder, I frowned. “Nope, but the girl at the store said the directions were in the bag.”
“Why doesn’t that leave me with much confidence?” Ryan grumbled as I nodded with a small, nervous laugh. Crossing the threshold into my house, my nerves went on high alert. Even though there wasn’t any proof that anything malevolent, or anything at all, really, had contacted Trina and me during the Ouija board experiment, the air felt heavy. And I also couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being watched—and not just by the nosy Drake. No, this was a feeling that left me frightened. It just seemed as though the house was hiding its own secrets. The more I thought about it, the more it freaked me out.
“You good, Peyton?” Ryan asked, visible concern in his warm eyes.
I nodded immediately, trying to prevent him from getting a whiff of my overactive imagination, which was definitely running away from me. I reached inside my purse and produced the small black ritual bag, which was about the size of my palm. Untying the black satin ribbon, I took a seat on the floor, tucking my legs to the side so as not to appear unladylike in my dress.
“This house is so dusty, you’re gonna ruin your dress,” Ryan pointed out as he sat alongside me. I waved away his concern, and emptied the contents of the bag on the dark wood floors. There were three sacks of flower petals and herbs, another sack filled with what looked like bath salts, another with three stones or gems, a bag with a crystal in it, and finally, a plastic ziplock bag with what appeared to be sage inside. There were two more empty velvet sacks, along with a black candle that was maybe the length and width of my middle finger.
“Directions, directions,” I mumbled absentmindedly as I fumbled with the wrinkled piece of paper. The print was so tiny, it was nearly illegible. As I brought the inscrutable instructions to my eyes, the sound of the door opening on its own caused Ryan and me to turn around immediately. I wasn’t sure about Ryan, but the creaking sound caused my heart to leap into my throat. I even dropped the instructions as I brought my hand to my chest in an attempt to quiet my suddenly pounding heart.
“Sorry I’m late!” Trina called out, closing the door behind her and hurrying toward us. She had a red backpack over one of her shoulders and an apologetic smile on her pretty face.
“Trina?” Ryan and I asked at the same time, both of us clearly at a loss as to why she was here, although I had to admit that seeing her was a huge relief. I was worried that our visitor might have been someone or something less welcomed.
Trina nodded, a stray lock of golden hair falling into her face. She secured it back into her ponytail and walked closer to us. “I tried to get here as quickly as I could to help banish the spirit, since you both clearly have no idea what’s going on.” She speared both of us with a pointed expression before dropping her backpack beside Ryan and taking a seat between us. Ryan cleared his throat as if to say he’d prefer her take a seat elsewhere, but Trina didn’t seem to notice. She methodically unzipped her backpack and began rummaging through it.
“First we must clear the space with a prayer to Saint Joseph,” she announced matter-of-factly. She pulled out a few ziplock bags, which were stuffed to splitting with what looked like dried flower petals and rosemary. “This prayer is for protection,” she added, focusing her attention on me. Opening her mouth, she was about to deliver her protection prayer to Saint Joseph when Ryan interrupted her.
“Trina, what are you doin’ here?” he asked, his eyebrows bunched together in obvious puzzlement. “Peyton and I were on a date, you know?”
“Yes, I’m aware you were on a date,” she started, fixing him with an exact replica of the frown he was giving her. “Which is why I didn’t show up at Antoine’s. But now your date is over, and we need to deal with more important things.”
I couldn’t stifle a slight giggle as I watched Ryan continue to frown at her. She, meanwhile, elbowed him playfully. “Come on, big brother, you’re neighbors…there’ll be plenty of time to steal sweet kisses later.” Then, eyeing me, she winked. “Just call me your friendly chaperone.”
I laughed again and Ryan shook his head, but there was a definite smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay, so get the show on the road,” he mumbled.
She frowned at him. “An’ y’all are welcome, by the way.”
“For what?” Ryan demanded.
“For my showin’ up here tonight! I mean, hello, it’s more than a little obvious that neither one of you has any idea how to rid Peyton’s house of ghostly energy. I figured it was my responsibility as a voodoo practitioner to render my skills.”
Ryan chuckled and shook his head again. “A voodoo practitioner, Trina? Since when?”
“Since a couple of months ago, nosy,” she replied before skewering him with a big frown and clearing her throat.
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be a repeat of the Ouija board incident, which was to blame if anything malevolent really had crossed over.
“Gracious Saint Joseph,” Trina said out loud before giving us a narrow-eyed expression that inferred we should be grateful she’d arrived to help us. “Protect me and my family from evil as you did the holy family. Keep us ever united in the love of Christ, ever fervent in the imitation of the virtue of our Blessed Lady, your sinless spouse, and faithful in devotion to you. Amen.”
“Amen,” Ryan repeated. Assuming I was supposed to participate, I responded in kind.
Apparently satisfied, Trina reached into her backpack again and produced what looked like two bricks of charcoal. She placed them in front of her while eyeing the sage from my Dark Moon ritual bag and pointing to it. I handed it to her and watched as she opened the bag and placed the sage on top of the two charcoal briquettes. She then pulled a lighter from her backpack and lit the sage.
“The sage purifies the air,” Trina explained. “It’s used for protection, cleansin’, and blessin’.”
Reaching inside her backpack yet again, she produced a white candle. She held it in one hand while she dug inside the small pocket on the front of her backpack. She produced a tiny vial with what looked like yellow oil inside of it. Pulling off the top of the vial, she placed a few drops of the oil on her palm and also coated her fingertips. Then she gripped the candle and started anointing it upward, from its middle, while she closed her eyes and chanted something. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, placed a few more drops of oil in her palm, and started working the candle from the middle downward. When she was finished rubbing oil all over the candle, she opened her eyes again and inspected what remained of my Dark Moon ritual bag. She spread it out on the floor and pointed to the bag of herbs and flower petals closest to me. I handed them to her and watched as she unwrapped the satin ribbon from each gossamer bag. She examined the contents with little interest before turning up her nose and reaching for the ziplocked bags that she’d brought with her. I could only guess what they were filled with.
Rummaging through her backpack again, she pulled out a mortar and pestle, placing them at her feet. Then she turned her attention to the bags before her, opening three of them and extracting a pinchful from each. She placed each pinchful into the mortar and, using the pestle, ground the contents into a fine powder. She then sifted about a tablespoon of the powder into her palm and picked up the candle. She rolled the candle in the fine dust, being careful to ensure that it was thoroughly covered.