“I’m not talking about trying on clothes,” she glared. “I’m talking about the people who are sitting in my back room right now.” I gave her the confused frown her explanation deserved. “They are refugees from Misty Hollow.”
That sobered me right up. Not so long ago, we’d had an influx of supernatural citizens from our sister Hollow in Louisiana. I wasn’t clear on the finer points of what happened to the Hollow—just that it no longer existed and the circumstances hadn’t been good. Most of them seemed reluctant to talk about it, and I didn’t push. I knew people had died, and that Fox had been captured and tortured as a result. It was enough to know that the catastrophe had been costly for all of them.
“Okay, but I don’t see how your customers, refugees or not, are the answer to my problem.”
“Because,” Wanda said testily. “They were a part of the crew that was building the Hollow down in Louisiana. They started as construction workers.”
“Okay,” I said, still not understanding her point.
Wanda sighed out her exasperation. “Fix their problem, and I bet you can earn yourself a shiny new workplace. Fireproof, even. Isthatworth a little of your time? Or do you want to sit here and sulk all day?”
Well, there was really only one answer I could give her.
“Gimme a second to close up shop. I’ll be right over.”
Chapter Two
Wanda’s Witchery was an upscale boutique plopped right in the middle of Main Street, almost directly across from my shop.
It was a two-story affair with black siding and a neon sign that proclaimed itself open for anyone unlucky enough to catch the eye-searing display head-on. As usual, Wanda had drawn the heavy black curtains so the outfits on her mannequins popped against the dark background.
It was all very...Wanda.Dark, a little foreboding, and a lot exciting. The pieces on display today were lighter pastels in deference to the season and the current fashion trends. Not that Wanda liked pastels. She didn’t. Her colors were more towards wine red, black, charcoal grey, and the occasional midnight blue. I’d never suspected I’d find a soft shade in Wanda’s store, but she’d proved me wrong. Hmm, I supposed my advice that she should carry an array of colors had finally beaten down the gates of her stubbornness. But just as much as she’d traded in a little of her darkness for something lighter, I’d done the same—in reverse. There was a darkness in me that had never been there before—completely and totally owing to my connection to the coven and to Wanda. Now, we’d both become something unrecognizable to our former selves.
Something better, I hoped.
A chime went off somewhere further in the store. Wanda had recently traded a traditional bell for something Henner rigged up for her as a birthday present. She wouldn’t confirm or deny if she had a clap light or not. And even though I’d tried to clap to turn something on or off in the store, the magic wouldn’t reply to me, since Henner had designed it for Wanda and Wanda only.
Two people were milling in the shop when the door slid closed behind us. The first man was simplyenormous.He reminded me so viscerally of my sasquatch ex, Roy, that Iimmediately began sizing him up to categorizewhat kindof bigfoot he was. It was the hair that made me pause. I’d met a lot of sasquatches, thanks to a mishap with a lonely succubus and a love potion. But that was another story for another time. The point was: sasquatches all tended toward fur the color of earth tones. But this man’s hair wascrimson.Not the gingery shade of human hair. It was the color of freshly spilled blood—literally. The contrast was as shocking as blood on snow. I shivered before I could stop myself.
The man noted my reaction with a small smile before raising his gaze from the rack to me. His eyes were piercing. Not cold, per se, but definitely predatory. Yep. Definitely not a sasquatch. Roy could be beastly, but he’d never sized me up like I was prey before.
The woman browsing near the door was easy to miss. She was smaller than me, and I wasn’t exactly on the tall side of the average height curve. I was used to looking up to most of my friends. And this woman was even shorter than I was. Not only that, but where the man was striking in his strange appearance, this woman was just...cute.But I was pretty sure she’d curse me for thinking as much, because I was fairly sure I knew what she was. Between the dark hair and the nimbus of power at her fingertips, she had to be a witch. And witches didn’t do the word ‘cute’.
“Poppy, I’d like you to meet Violetta De Leon and Smith. They’re looking for an alchemist to do a job for them.” Wanda turned with a magnanimous smile and addressed the adorably short witch with deference. “And this is Poppy Morton, the expert I told you about.”
I had to fight not to let my mouth drop open. Expert? Wanda was trying to sell me to these two as some kind of expert alchemist? Was sheinsane? Did she really think I could just what—fake it until I made it? That was a gig most witches couldpull off, but I was a gypsy—I didn’t have the power of a witch. Not to mention that I was a novice alchemist at best, not a flipping expert!
“I wouldn’t exactly go that far...” I began weakly, shaking my head. The last thing I wanted to do was give them the wrong impression. Wanda and the coven might have been my allies, but this witch? She was already looking at me with suspicion.
Wanda clapped me on the back with a little more force than necessary. “Because she’s modest. Believe me, you won’t regret coming to Poppy. She’s got a knack for solving problems.”
I was torn between the desire to smack Wanda and hug her. Compliments were rare things from my best friend. Most people would have to wrench a kind word from her cold, dead hands. She wasn’t exactly what one would call ‘approachable’ or ‘kind’. And yet, she thought I was worth consulting... Not only that, but she’d had a point in my shop—it was a good idea that I experiment with these alchemist powers far away from the farmhouse. And if this Smith person could help me with building a new place in which to work… well, it would be worth it. I figured I should at least hear them out, considering what I could gain in return.
“So,” I began again, clearing my throat. “What seems to be the problem? I mean… I’d love to help if I can.”
“For a fee, of course,” Wanda added, shooting me a look, before turning her expression back to our guests. “Poppy’s in the market for an affordable… laboratory.”
“Well, a laboratory might be a bit of a stretch. I just need—’
“—a laboratory,” Wanda finished for me, smiling sweetly at Smith. “I think it’s fair if you want her to do alchemy for you.”
Smith nodded as though he’d been expecting me to say something exactly of the sort. “Of course. Send over the relevant details, and I’m sure we can work something out that satisfies both parties.”
Relief, sudden and pure, rushed through me. Tension I hadn’t realized I was holding released, and I took a deep breath.
“Thank you. It’ll be a relief to have a private place to work.”
Private and safe. Maybe my worries about the integrity of my kitchen had been premature. Then again, there was every chance I could blow the roof of my new lab right into my living room anyway. Well, I supposed it depended on where said lab was built. Maybe I’d ask Smith to position it on the far end of the property.
