Page 39 of Cursed By Fate

I was secretly relieved the witches wouldn’t get to wander around Vale’s house; they might refuse to leave.

Catherine hugged herself at the railing. “I hope we don’t encounter any alligators.”

Joan leaned over the side of the boat to scan the water. “And I hope we do.”

Catherine cast a fearful eye at her friend. “If we split up, I don’t want to be in your group.”

“Margie and Louise. Joan and Catherine. Meemaw, you’re with me.” Mainly because I had to keep the closest eye on her.

Cowboy met us at the dock with his pickup truck. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said with the tip of his eponymous hat.

“I’m too old to ride in the back,” Meemaw said, hopping energetically into the passenger seat.

“It’s only a short drive,” I told the other witches.

“My hips will suffer,” Margie said, as Cowboy gave her a boost into the flatbed.

“My low back hurts just looking at this,” Catherine said.

Joan and Louise climbed into the back without complaint. I squeezed into the cab with Meemaw and Cowboy.

“Vale sends his apologies,” the vampire said, “but my truck is more accommodating than his SUV.”

The truck hit a bump, and we heard a collective groan through the back window.

“It’s a new adventure,” Meemaw said. “We haven’t had any of those in a long time.”

Cowboy parked on the street outside The Mad Harriet. “The team’s already inside.”

“Why are we meeting here?” Margie asked, as we grouped together outside. “I wanted to see the fancy house of a demigod.”

“This isn’t a historical walking tour,” I reminded her. “We’re here to catch a monster.”

“And sample the local shrimp and grits,” Catherine added.

Cowboy walked us to the private room at the back of the tea shop. The long table was laden with saucer-supported teacups and multitiered trays of finger sandwiches. Harriet stood at the far end of the table, her dark hair in cornrows. She’d traded her usual pink frills for a streamlined black jumpsuit, likely in anticipation of this afternoon’s mission.

Catherine clapped her hands, full of glee. “High tea! What a thrill. I love high tea.”

“I thought we could all use fuel before we head out,” Harriet said.

“Everyone, this is Meemaw and her daughter, Margie.”

“I’m Catherine,” she said, wriggling her fingers in a childlike wave.

“Joan.”

Louise raised her hand. “Louise.”

“You met Cowboy, and I’m sure you remember Vale and Gage,” I continued. “This is Harriet.”

Harriet picked up the teapot and began to fill the cups. “I understand you ladies are also witches.”

“We are,” Meemaw said.

Harriet observed her from head to toe. “Nice masking spell.”

“You can see it?” I asked.