Page 34 of Death Card

I strap my crossbody bag around me and reach up to grasp my amethyst pendant. Gran gave it to me as protection from negative energy, but I find that it also clears the static in my mind. When I wear it, I don’t feel so anxious.

The crystal is warm beneath my fingers. It roots me firmly in place.

“Mikaela!”

Orion and Malik stroll toward me, dressed way more casually than I expected, in jeans and sneakers. Malik wears a baseball cap, and Orion’s hair has been freshly twisted since the last time I saw him.

I tug on the sleeve of my brother’s T-shirt. “Neither of you owns a polo or anything that could masquerade as nice?”

Malik, for his part, ducks his head, but Orion waves me off. “Chill out. It’s a city council debate. We’re not meeting the president or anything. Not like I’d dress up to meet him, either.”

I sigh and turn on my heel to head inside.

The crowd is smaller than I expected, but I spot a member of Gramps’s campaign team setting up an Instagram Live and a photojournalist from the local news station. I can’t help but be disappointed at the turnout. Most people only pay attention to presidential races and national news, but they don’t realize that local changes can sometimes affect their lives the most.

Near the entrance, a table is set up for Sweet Dreams Bakery, the new place opening up near our shop. Britney Dupree stands in front, handing out plastic-wrapped cookies and small boxes of cupcakes. Behind the table, Britney’s boyfriend, Tyler, stands deep in conversation with a cherubic blond woman wearing an apron.

As soon as Britney spots me, she waltzes over with a handful of cookies. “Well, well, well, are you ready to watch your grandpa crash and burn?”

I’m taken off guard by her approach. Despite her cheerfulsmile and voice, her words are laced with venom. She’s wearing a thick sweater despite the heat and a full face of makeup.

Orion bristles at my side. “This bit—”

I grip his arm and narrow my eyes at Britney. “What’s the point of insulting us and then turning around to offer us baked goods?”

She shrugs. “I figure they’ll make a good consolation prize. Besides, don’t you want to support a local business?” She nods back toward the table. “Tyler’s mom has worked really hard to get where she is.”

I scoff. Yeah, sure she has. By having Mike Dupree buy out Miss Louise’s jewelry shop.

Britney holds the cookies out to us, but neither my brother nor I reach out to take them.

Instead, Malik grabs them, mutters thanks, and heads to find a seat. Orion shakes his head and follows at his heels.

Once we’re alone, Britney takes a step forward, and her smile melts. “There’s still time for you to convince him to drop out of the race. Do you really think he’s prepared for how cutthroat politics can be?”

“You want to talk about cutthroat? Gramps was a defense attorney working to protect Black men from being swallowed by the justice system. He knows how to fight and, most importantly, how to win.”

Her eyes glint. “I hope you all don’t come to regret going up against my family.”

“We won’t.” I brush past her. “Tell your dad good luck. He’ll need it.”

I leave her seething at the table and find Orion and Malik at their seats. The cookies sit on Malik’s lap, untouched.

“Throw those away,” I tell him. “You can’t eat the enemy’s food.”

“I’m not.” He smirks. “Chris’ll eat anything, and he’s got the worst sweet tooth of anyone I know.”

I roll my eyes. If I liked Chris as a person more, I’d argue harder for Malik to throw the cursed things away. But we all have to pick our battles.

As the last of the crowd drifts to their seats, Gramps and Mike Dupree take their spots behind two opposing podiums. The moderator welcomes the audience and wastes no time in getting started.

“Mr.Dupree, could you expound a bit on your qualifications and your general vision for the city?”

Mike Dupree is a hulking man, standing over six feet tall with a ruddy face and ash-blond hair. He wears a black suit with a bright red tie and an American flag pinned to his lapel. He grips the podium and takes a moment to sweep his gaze across the crowd. His eyes seem to linger on mine before he begins.

“My father, Timothy Dupree, was a prosecutor for the city of New Orleans for over twenty years, so my family has a long history of public service. I hold a business degree from the University of Alabama and have worked in real estate, serving this community both in private and public capacities. I have received the endorsement of the governor of Louisiana, who believes my place on this council will help better the lives of the people of this city.”

The moderator opens his mouth to speak, but Mr.Dupree continues. “I believe this city has been bogged down in red tape for far too long. The city government has been allowed tooverstep its reach for some time, and what we need is less regulation and more freedom. We need to be tougher on crime and reduce the epidemic of homelessness. As councilman, I would work to trim down the bloated budget and lower taxes.”