Jessica and Justin turned at the sound of the elderly woman’s voice, and after a moment, a bent figure parted the green-glass beaded curtains that led to the back rooms. The short brown-skinned matron was draped in a multicolored crocheted shawl. Deep lines were etched into sagging, leathery skin, but her eyes still sparkled with a mysterious golden amber hue that seemed to take years off her age.

“This is Grand,” Justin said with a patient smile.

“Ma’am,” Jessica said, giving the older woman respect in the way that would have done her mother proud.

Justin’s grandmother gave a little snort of annoyance and came up to Jessica, peering at her with suspicion. “You’s pretty enough,” she said with a half smile that could have easily been mistaken for a scowl.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jessica said shyly, not sure why this old woman made her so nervous.

“Don’t need ta thank me—thank the Good Lord for the way He blessed ya. Now whatchu want with my Justin?”

“Grand, please don’t start,” Justin said quickly. “The young lady didn’t come in here for all of that, she just came in here to—”

“I know what she came in here fer,” Grand said in a peevish tone, folding her arms over her bony chest.

“Maybe I should go,” Jessica mumbled and then turned to leave. “It was nice to meet y’all.”

“See, that’s the problem with young folks.” Grand let out a little grunt. “You’s too fast to jump to conclusions. I said I know why you came in here, sugah. Open up that bag of yours and let’s talk plain.”

Jessica turned around to look at the old lady.

“I know you got some serious hardware in there. Gonna take a coupla days to get bullets made for it. But’chu gonna need more than that to go after what’s down in Johnson’s Bayou.”

Jessica remained very, very still. She and Justin stared at Justin’s grandmother, slack-jawed.

“After what happened to my Lula, I didn’t wanna see no mo’, but that don’t mean I cain’t see.” Grand lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze on Jessica. “But you too young to be throwing your gift away by trying to go git yo’self kilt.”

Moving to the store counter, Jessica set her crocheted bag down on it and slowly extracted her father’s old service revolver. Justin looked at the gun; Grand just shook her head.

“So, you’s fixin’ to go into the bayou . . . all by your lonesome and handle up a whole pack of lukegaroos? Girl, you plum lost your natural mind.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Justin rounded the counter and stared at the gun for a few seconds, then looked at Jessica. “Tell me that isn’t the plan, because if it is, I’m not making you silver anything, let alone bullets.”

“Okay, fine,” Jessica said, growing annoyed. What business was it of theirs what she’d planned to do? But the old lady had said pack, as in more than a few like she’d imagined—that was her idea of a pack, but the old lady made it sound as though there were way more than that . . . She’d also acknowledged that there were werewolves out there.

Grand scoffed, picking up on Jessica’s thoughts. “You ain’t crazy, chile—not for knowing what ate up them people on the news. What makes you crazy as a bedbug is trying to go after what kilt my Lula all by yourself.”

“Grand, we are not going into that,” Justin said, frowning.

“Boy, I used to change your diapers, so don’t you sass me!” Grand fussed as she pointed a gnarled finger at Jessica. “Baby girl, lemme tell you . . . There’s a lot of mess up in that bayou that ya need to leave be. My daughter was carrying him,” she added with a quick jerk of her head toward Justin. “I tol’ her not to do no readings while she was carrying that boy . . . but money was funny and my daughter didn’t listen. She took a client—a man. His wife was a hussy, was cheatin’ on him, and my daughter didn’t have the sense she was born with not to tell him so.”

Justin let out a groan and walked away. “Grand, would you please stop.”

“No, ’cause this chile fixin’ to do somethin’ that don’t make sense, so I’m gonna tell her how mess goes ’round and comes ’round.”

Grand squared her shoulders and walked up to Jessica. But Justin seemed so uncomfortable that Jessica glanced at him, torn. Part of her wanted to know what had happened, and the other part wanted to stop the story that seemed to be causing Justin so much pain.

“Don’t look at him,” Grand said. “He’s closed-mouthed about everything, always been that way. So you need to give me your undivided.”

Grand nodded as Jessica’s attention was wrested back to her. “Now, like I was sayin’ . . . My daughter told and that husband went home as mad as a caught thief. Lef’ his no-good wife. After gettin’ caught in two-timing ways, the wife blamed my daughter. Have you ever?” Grand sucked her teeth and let another grunt of disgust pass her lips. “But you know hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” Grand’s gaze softened, and then she looked at her grandson. “Sooner or later you gonna haf’ta tell somebody . . . maybe somebody who got a good heart and who can accept you for who you is.”

“If you violate my privacy, Grand, I swear, I’m out.” Justin stared at his grandmother, his eyes holding a promise to never forgive the offense.

“This girl here got a good heart and it involves her, you know?”

“How?” Justin shouted, spinning on his grandmother and talking with his hands. “Don’t do this, Grand!”

“Wasn’t till she walked in here and I got up close that I could see . . . but her daddy was the one messing with that swamp witch.”

“What?” Jessica shrieked and then tried to adjust her tone. “Ma’am . . . ?”

“Spells and counterspells—they was gun-slinging juju like it was the wild, wild West,” Grand said, waving an arthritic hand for emphasis. “First bad dose came when the wife hit my pregnant daughter . . . tried to make her have a monster—but as you can see, Justin is fine.” Grand raised an eyebrow and stared at him hard. “Satisfied?”

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“You just gifted, is all,” Grand said with a dismissive wave toward Justin before turning her focus back to Jessica. “But then, once my daughter realized what that hussy had tried to do, she did a reverse double-deadbolt spell on that cheating wife . . . sent that hatred right back where it came from. And you do know that a mother trying to protect her baby is stronger than a she-devil trying to do dirt, right?”

Grand waited for Jessica to nod and then squinted and pointed at her, vindicated. “Uh-huh, you know I’m tellin’ it right. Word is, that swamp witch, who by the way was quite a Jezebel, had a lot of bad IOUs out there, jus’ nobody would challenge her. But when my daughter did, the Lord worked in mysterious ways . . . All that bad she had out in the world came fer her all at one time. Turned her into what she was trying to make Justin. Your momma had a hand in it, too,” Grand said, nodding. “Uhhuh. That woman had worked roots on your daddy to get him to leave y’all . . . He was a lawman, had morals and principles, but once that she-devil got her hooks in him, it was all she wrote. So whatever your momma sent back her way added a little topspin on my Lula’s spell, and probably everybody else’s, too. It’s bad business to start root-slinging down here in New Orleans—never know how the juju is gonna ricochet.”

Jessica turned slowly and slumped against the counter, hugging herself.

“Your daddy loved your momma dearly, baby . . . loved you and your brother. But that bayou witch . . .” Grand shook her head. “She was built the way that’d make even a churchgoing man turn a blind eye to the Lord. Big bosom,” Grand added, using her hands to demonstrate. “Long legs, big ole Creole backside, tiny waist, pretty face, long black hair . . . and them green eyes—pure evil in ’em, though.”

“They said my daddy run off when we was young and they found him dead, tore up by gators. Sheriff Moore found him on the Louisiana side of Sabine Lake.” Jessica looked into Grand’s ancient eyes and blinked back moisture.