In the heart of New Orleans, Elodie "Elle" Duval has carved out a quiet existence among the whispers of magic and shadows of danger. The sole heir to her family's apothecary and the legacy of a powerful New Orleans coven, Elle has spent years naviga...
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The morning sun bathed New Orleans in a golden hue as Elodie made her usual walk to the apothecary. The streets were alive with the sounds of vendors and musicians, the scent of freshly fried beignets wafting through the air. Stopping at her favourite café, she picked up a small bag of the warm pastries, smiling at the thought of finally being able to enjoy them again without the threat of morning sickness.
Her belly had begun to round noticeably, a small but unmistakable sign of the life growing within her. Though it made her self-conscious at times, there was a quiet pride in the knowledge of what she was protecting.
As she unlocked the door to the shop, the familiar scent of herbs and dried flowers greeted her. It was a quiet day, with Mia off at school, leaving Elodie to tend to the store alone. Customers trickled in and out, and she kept herself busy organising stock and restocking jars of tea blends and tinctures.
As evening approached, the doorbell jingled, announcing a new customer. Elodie looked up from the counter to see Sabine Laurent, a familiar face in the French Quarter. Sabine often led walking tours of the city, sharing ghost stories and tales of New Orleans' supernatural history with wide-eyed tourists. She brought in business with the tourists so Elodie didn't have much against her.
"Good evening, Sabine," Elodie greeted with a polite smile.
Sabine returned the smile, her eyes lingering briefly on Elodie's growing belly. "Good evening, Elodie. It looks like business is good," she said, her tone casual. "I was hoping you could help me with a dandelion tea blend I've been meaning to stock up. I need a larger quantity than usual."
Elodie nodded and moved to the shelves, carefully measuring out the requested blend into a brown paper bag. As she worked, Sabine stood at the counter, her gaze flickering between the herbs and Elodie's stomach.
"You're looking well," Sabine said lightly. "How far along are you now?"
"About two and a half months," Elodie replied, her tone cautious. She wasn't one to broadcast her pregnancy, but the swelling bump made it impossible to hide.
Sabine's smile tightened. "It must be exciting... and daunting, I imagine."
Elodie finished measuring the tea and placed the bag on the counter. As Sabine reached into her purse to pay, their hands brushed. The contact was brief but electric. Sabine's eyes fluttered shut, and her body went rigid.
"Sabine?"
But Sabine didn't respond. Her lips began to move, murmuring words in a language Elodie didn't immediately recognise.
"Hoc est infantima malom," Sabine said, her voice low and hollow, as if the words weren't her own. "Nos omnia perditu el eam."
Elodie froze, the chill in the air palpable. The words were Latin; she was sure of that.
"Sabine?" she said again, louder this time.
Sabine's eyes snapped open, confusion clouding her expression as if she'd just woken from a dream. "I... I'm sorry. Did I say something?"
