Daughter of the Thirteen: Bourbon Street Witches Book 1 by Lorraine Kennedy

McAllister nodded.
    She was obviously irritated she wasn’t able to secure a commitment from the girls. “I’ll send a carriage to fetch you … just in case.”
    “That’s very generous of you.” Bridgett forced another smile.
    “Good day,” Sally McAllister offered before turning to leave.
    “Good day Sally … Cynthia,” Bridgett offered before they were through the door.
    When she was sure they were gone, she turned her attention to Mora. “You can’t decline their invitation.”
    Mora narrowed her eyes. “Why not? They’re just a couple of stuffy bags that think they’re better than the rest of us. Let’s not forget, we are supposed to stay in during the evening hours … and at the present time, St. Claire is gone.”
    Bridgett shook her head. “You don’t understand. The McAllisters are one of the coven families. They cannot suspect we know anything. Remember, Marcos is supposed to be bringing Laurel into the fold, not helping her to stay out of it.”
    “All the more reason to stay clear of them,” Mora snapped.
    “If they figure out what’s going on … so too will those nasty hell creatures. They’ll come after Laurel long before Marcos returns. I think we should go,” she announced.
    They all stared at Bridgett as if she’d lost her mind.
    “You know it’s a trap,” Laurel put in. “What better time to get us than when Marcos is gone. We won’t have him to stand against them, or the protection spell. We’ll be like babies out in the cold.”
    “I know.” Bridgett nodded.
    “Well at least you know something.” Mora scowled.
    Throwing Mora a sour look, Arlene stepped in. “Bridgett is right. The Coven of Lazar has a lot to lose if Laurel doesn’t come into their fold. They may panic if they believe they are losing her. Why not let them believe she is ignorant of their intentions, and therefore has nothing to fear from them, or the Dark Prince?”
    “I don’t know.” Mora shook her head. “This seems too coincidental … to convenient. I don’t like it.”
    “We’ll go for a dance or two, and then leave. This will put them at ease and buy us some time,” Arlene suggested.
    “Maybe I should do this alone,” Laurel interrupted. “I’m the one they’re after. It isn’t fair that the rest of you be put at risk.”
    Mora rolled her eyes. “Now you are acting insane. Walk right into their trap with no way to defend yourself, and no one to help you.”
    Laurel drew her brows together in a frown. “I’m not completely helpless you know.”
    Bridgett cleared her throat. “Ladies! All this bickering between us isn’t helping matters.”
    “There could be demons there … disguised as humans.” Mora continued the argument.
    “This is true, but if you know what to look for, they are easy to spot. When a demon takes human form, they are flawed. There will be a discoloration to their fingernails,” Bridgett explained.
    “Marcos’s nails are not discolored,” Laurel informed her.
    Sighing, Bridgett sat on one of the tall stools at the bar. “My cousin is different. He was born to this world, but is part of both. A demon has never had a body. When you see a demon take human form, what you are seeing is magic … the manipulation of dark energy.”
    Mora shrugged. “It just seems like an unnecessary risk to me.”
    “There is another reason we should go,” Bridgett added.
    Mora arched one perfectly shaped brow. “And that is?”
    “We need to get a spell from the coven’s grimoire. It is said that the Coven of Lazar has a spell to open or close the doorway to the Underworld. If we can get that spell, we can close the door ourselves.”
    “What’s to stop the Dark Prince from just opening it again?” Laurel wanted to know.
    “It was the spell and the pact that made it possible to open the door in the first place. He will not have such an easy time with it closed.”
    “Why don’t they just close it themselves then?” Mora was doubtful.
    Bridgett smiled.