Bruja Brouhaha by Rochelle Staab

a good boy.” Lucia shifted her attention to me. “Do you love him?”
    She should have asked how much money I had in the bank: an easier question to dodge on the spot. Nick and I danced around every adjective to express our feelings for each other, but neither one of us had brought up the
L
word. Yet. “He’s very lovable.”
    “That’s not an answer.” She reached for Nick’s chin. “Do you love her?”
    “I adore her, Lucia,” he said.
    That wasn’t an answer either.
    “Paco tells me he loves me whenever I walk into a room. He makes me feel adored every day of my life.” She looked between us. “Now, do you love him? Do you love her?”
    “We love
you
. That’s why we’re here,” Nick said.
    “Fibber,” Lucia said.
    Cruz came back with a cup of dark tea and Lucia’s pill. Lucia took a dainty bite of a cookie then popped the pill in her mouth.
    “What medication are you taking?” I said.
    When Lucia couldn’t answer, Cruz said, “Xanax. Twice a day. Dr. Morales’s orders.”
    “Victor scolded me about my hex last night, but Paco approved.” Lucia grinned.
    Nick brushed a wisp of hair off her forehead. “Lucia.”
    “Don’t.” She pushed his hand away. “I’m not imagining things. I feel Paco all the time. His spirit won’t cross until his killer is caught. And Victor was here last night, too. I know he was.”
    “Yes, he was,” I said. “He brought you home. But Lucia, I’m a little worried about your memory. Do you mind if I ask Victor about the medication you’re taking?”
    “She’ll be better after the pill kicks in. Maybe you should go,” Cruz said.
    “Don’t handle me, Cruz. I’m not a baby.” Lucia turned to me. “You can talk to Victor. I trust you. But I don’t want either you or Nick to leave yet. I cast the hex to draw out and punish the guilty. I want to put a protection spell over you so my orishas will know you’re my friends.”
    “We came to visit, Lucia. We don’t need protection,” I said.
    “Yes you do. The hex is powerful and directed.” Lucia stood and started pulling bottles off the shelves. “Nick, while I prepare, look in the case and select two
resguardos
—amulets to ward off evil.”
    I raised a hand to protest. Nick held me back, whispering, “Go along with her, Liz. Performing the spell will make her happy.”
    * * *
    L ucia’s inner sanctum consisted of a small altar and a stool in the back room storage closet. Framed images of saints in faded robes with golden scepters covered the aged red walls. Dried fruit, half-smoked cigars and cigarettes, and hurricane candles lined the baseboards. With room for only two people, Nick volunteered me to go first. Fine with me. There was time for Lucia’s hex to work some hoodoo on him for goading me.
    Lucia lit a candle in a bowl of water on the altar and gestured for me to sit on the stool. Muttering an incantation under her breath in Spanish, she dipped into a small bowl of oil and touched her finger to my forehead. I knew Spanish well, but her mumblings were too garbled for me to translate.
    She held the bracelet Nick chose for my amulet in front of the altar in offering. The bracelet was fashioned with half-inch wooden pieces banded together, each square painted with a saintly image. She slipped the bracelet onto my right wrist, reciting the Lord’s Prayer in Spanish, and set my palms together in prayer fashion. She took an aerosol can marked “Go Away Evil” and sprayed a mist around my head and body.
    Repeating the ceremony on Nick, she placed the etched brass coin he selected as his amulet into his hand, then prayed and sprayed him. “
Bueno
,” she said, setting the can on the floor. “Done.
    “The images on your bracelet represent the Seven African Powers,” Lucia said to me. “Wear it and trouble will avoid you. Nick, keep the amulet in your pocket. An orisha will protect you. I’ll petition Orúnla to watch both of you—he has power over destiny and is very wise.”
    We