"Let's do this." Beth declared. She looked furious, which was good. We'd need her to be at her strongest.
"Absolutely," Carol said, her expression resolute. "No one messes with our friends and gets away with it."
With our spirits bolstered and our resolve unshakable, we stood up from the table, ready to face whatever lay ahead. As we left the restaurant, each step carried us closer to our confrontation with Isabel.
"She's just two streets over," Deva said. "We'll walk."
"Are you sure we're ready for this?" Carol asked quietly, her earlier bravado wavering just a touch.
"Of course we are." Beth gave Carol a gentle sideways hug.
"Plus, we've got a little extra help thanks to Deva's potion." I could sense the elixir coursing through me like liquid courage now that I knew about it. Or I was imagining it, but either way, I was confident.
Deva nodded. "We can handle anything Isabel throws at us."
As we approached Isabel's shop, the flickering neon sign above the door cast eerie shadows on the sidewalk, giving the impression of something sinister lurking within. How had Inever been to this shop? It was on a quiet street, but it wasn't a very big town. Seemed like I would've at least noticed it.
Before we entered the shop, Beth slipped on the glove, ensuring it was snug against her skin. "Just to be sure it's Isabel," she said, flexing her fingers experimentally.
"Good thinking," Deva said as I pushed open the door and we stepped inside.
Oh, tacky hell. We'd been transported into a garish nightmare of neon signs, mirrored surfaces, and the overwhelming scent of cheap incense. The walls were adorned with an eclectic assortment of tacky trinkets, dream catchers hung beside plastic crystal balls, while gaudy tarot card posters vied for attention alongside shelves of discount spell books. It was like someone had taken every cliché of a mystical shop and crammed them all into one suffocating space.
Carol looked around with wide eyes. "Someone threw up a New Age clearance sale in here."
"Subtlety is clearly not Isabel's strong suit," I said, wrinkling my nose at the pungent aroma assaulting my nostrils. How anyone could stand to spend more than five minutes in this sensory overload was beyond me.
“Hello?” I said.
Silence met my words, but I sensed someone in the shop. I could practically feel them holding their breath, which was weird. Was this a game of hide and seek? Weren’t we too old for that?
"Isabel?" I said tentatively, surprised by how small and uncertain I sounded amidst the chaos of the shop. "We just want to talk."
"It shouldn’t take long." Carol glanced nervously at the rows of flickering candles that threatened to set the entire place ablaze. “It should just be a calm discussion.”
"Good luck with that," Deva said under her breath, though I agreed with her sentiment. The thought of having a calm, rational conversation with Isabel in this madhouse was more and more unlikely by the second.
I could understand a human with no understanding of the supernatural world having a place like this. But a witch? For some reason, the idea made me wonder just how stable Isabel was? Or if this just was about stealing money from unknowing humans.
"Maybe she's not here." Beth frowned as she examined a garish display of love potions that promised to 'make any man fall head over heels.' Pfft. "We could try again later."
Maybe we should leave and come up with a better plan, but I worried if we left we’d never find her. Something in the back of my mind still whispered that she was hiding here. Somewhere.
"Isabel?" Carol called louder.
"Over there." Deva pointed toward a figure that had emerged from behind a towering stack of dusty spell books. Isabel looked panicked, her eyes wide with fear as she took in our expressions.
“Hello,” I greeted her.
“Hi.” She set a book down, and I let my gaze run over her. She was tall, for a woman, with brown hair down to her shoulders, and dark eyes. She had to be around our age, or maybe just a little younger. I could see her outfit being sold as a gypsy costume at a store, paired with a golden coin skirt on top of herregular skirt. Wasn’t that offensive nowadays? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t like it. “What can I do for you?”
Her gaze darted to Deva and then away. “Do you need a reading? Or are you just browsing?”
She was most definitely suspicious. If I had to bet, she knew Deva, and she was nervous about us being here. Whether that meant she was guilty or not, I still didn’t know.
"We need to talk to you about Katie," I said, trying to keep my tone level and non-threatening. “She was one of your clients recently. Do you remember giving her a reading?”
"Katie?" she said, her gaze darting from one face to another. "What about her?"
