"Don't discount them either." The old woman cautioned. "But they are not who I am talking about. You lot will face numerous challenges as various forces try to stop you from your task."
"And will you try to stop us?" I stepped forward, holding her gaze as I voiced the question. I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but I felt the pressing need to ascertain if this Witch was on our side or against us.
Her cackling, wheezing laugh took me by surprise and I had to grind my feet in place to stop myself from jumping back - to stop myself from showing any hint of fear.
"I'm giving you your wedding dress, aren't I?" Her eyes darted towards where my fingers clutched the lace fabric.
"She needs to try it on." Brenna interjected.
"Of course." The old woman nodded, motioning towards a back room that I was fairly certain contained a hoard of rats and other creatures.
"How do we know that the dress is not cursed?" Brenna, ever practical, hissed softly under her breath.
"It's not cursed." Zoey answered matter-of-factly. I raised a brow in her direction, silently demanding further information.
"Every single spirit in this place has told me that if anything, the dress is blessed."
"You trust them?" Brenna had always been the cautious one amongst us.
"There's too many different spirits telling me the same thing for it to be a lie - I mean, they're not even from the same era."
I shivered at her description. "Are there a lot of them?"
Zoey never once complained about how much of a burden it was to speak with the dead, but it had to weigh on her.
"This place is filled with them." She shrugged, and before I could ask her any further questions, Brenna was shoving me into the cramped changing room that was surprisingly clean. Everywhere I looked, a new antique of some sort jumped out at me - an old dress table, a typewriter, a leather-bound book. This entire place was a historical time-capsule.
I changed silently, smoothing my hands down the front of my dress, knowing full well that when I looked up, the dress would be nothing short of perfect. It was as if it had been made for me, with not one alteration necessary. As soon as I stepped out, Jesse squealed, whilst Zoey gasped. Maxine gave me a nod of approval, which spoke volumes when it came to her and the very notion of marriage.
Marie stepped forward, her fingers tracing the patterns within the lace, her expression equal parts joy and equal parts sorrow. One day she would tell me, but I knew that today was not that day.
Brenna's eyes gleamed with warmth as she pushed me to get out of the dress so we could pay and leave.
The Witch did not want our money. In fact, she seemed insulted that I wanted to payfor the dress. In the end, we settled the debt by Zoey agreeing to bring her some intention oil that she mixed herself, along with a few plants that would help her store prosper.
It was a strange feeling to pay with the promise of Magick, stranger still that that Magick was not my own.
Three days later, Maxine insisted that both Dimitri and I slip out of the house with her.
I used every excuse possible to get out of this venture with her, until she finally hissed at me, her voice low and threatening. "I need you to get the fuck out the house and come with me so I can give you your wedding present."
That was how I came to walk the streets of New Orleans, sandwiched between Dimitri and Maxine. It was a strange feeling walking between the two of them, with danger pulsing next to me from one side, and safety encompassing me from the other. They were a push and pull of experiences.
The shouts, cries, and boisterous conversation washed over me, ebbing and flowing in volume.
My body veered right as Maxine tugged me into a back alley that stank of old fish and urine. Dimitri followed wordlessly, never once allowing me out of his sight. Occasionally, I would catch sight of one of Dimitri's men, weaving their way through the crowd, or simply standing on the sidewalk. Once I knew who they were and what they looked like, they were easy to spot.
We came to a door that was once red, but now stood as a washed out rust colour. Maxine flashed us her wicked grin and I felt Dimitri stiffen beside me, no doubt reaching for his gun. She tapped once on the door before it swung open, revealing a man with dark greasy hair and two missing front teeth.
"Inside." His voice slithered over me, a mixture between oil and slime. But Maxine seemed to know him and didn't have any hesitation in stepping across the threshold, and so I slid my hand back towards Dimitri’s and tugged him along.
Dimitri followed willingly, refusing to allow me to walk into the lion’s den alone.
I blinked, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness, the room filtering in slowly as I finally orientated myself.
A different man stepped forward, his dark hair slicked back.
"Maxine." His tone was low, his smile leaving no doubt about what exactly he wanted from her.