Moira plucked the bottle from Mom’s fingers and popped the lid off to take a whiff. “Good enough.”
I leaned over to smell. “White Diamonds.”
Sirena shuddered. “The perfume of the 80s. Everyone’s mom smelled like that and strutted around like they were on Dynasty.”
“That shit could clear out a room in a hurry,” Mom added. “Perfect for tonight.”
Moira pocketed the bottle and adjusted her black beanie. The hat made her look like a sophisticated cat burglar. With her pale hair and night-dark eyes, Moira was the epitome of a creature of the night.
“Ready when you are,” she said and gave me a cheery wink. Her cheeks were flushed with color.
I laughed. “You love getting into trouble.”
Moira grinned. “We always had to be so careful when we were living here. This is the first real chance I’ve had to raise a little hell.”
Mom held her hands out. “We’ll come in at the edge of the forest, so no one sees our arrival. Remember, Moira. Get in and get out. Call to me when you’re ready, and I’ll transport you back to Evie’s house.”
Moira nodded.
“Alright then. Join hands.”
A moment later, in a dizzying lurch, we stood in a dense forest, surrounded by trees. Mom stepped away and peeked out to see if the coast was clear.
“Come,” she hissed.
Moira went the other way, cutting through the forest to come out on the backside of Marnie’s restaurant. The rest of us walked through the square, our conversation inane in case there were curious ears. When we arrived at the restaurant, I sent a quick text to Moira to let her know.
If things were going to fall apart, it would happen within moments of us entering.
When we opened the door, the comforting scent of home cooking washed over us. Mom let out a low curse. “Maybe I’ll get an enormous thing of soup to freeze,” she muttered.
“If Moira sees a recipe book, she’ll probably steal it,” I whispered.
Mom brightened at the thought of petty theft, especially if it netted her the soup recipe.
The door shut behind us with a solid thud, sealing us inside. Thankfully, the place was busy, filled with townspeople and tourists. I recognized some and kept my eyes averted. Curious gazes watched us for a moment before returning to their own spaces. Their eyes lingered on Sirena the longest. Unsurprising. The siren was stunning, and part of her power was luring men in.
Marnie stood behind the counter. Twyla was nowhere to be seen.
“Follow me,” Sirena whispered.
We stayed a foot back and smiled at Marnie when Sirena introduced us as some of her old friends. “Where’s Twyla tonight?”
Marnie jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “In the back. There was a run on baked potato soup, so she’s prepping a new batch.” The witch frowned. “We haven’t been this busy in ages. Not since—” Her gaze flickered over us before she frowned. “Well, no matter. The customers are a blessing.”
“Well, you’re in luck again, because these two heard about your famous food. They’re dying for some of the soup.” Sirenamotioned us forward. An almost undetectable breeze swept over us. Sirena’s work to keep our scents from reaching Marnie’s nose.
Clever.
I let Mom do the talking.
“Erm, yes,” Mom said in a posh British accent. “I’d love some of the baked potato soup to go, the largest serving you have.”
As Mom ordered an outrageous amount of food, I sent Moira a quick message.
Twyla’s in the kitchens. Mom ordered enough to feed an army. Should keep them busy for a bit. Good luck.
I tucked the phone away, only to hear Mom still ordering.
