A few women with tiny horns scrambled out of the booth as the witches approached. The three witches slid onto one side of the booth, still in their bikinis.
I was still in mine, for that matter, but I was drunk enough off Mary’s magic that I couldn’t complain.
Mac and I sat in the booth across from them. The girl that I didn’t recognize leaned forward and grinned. “I’m Beth.”
“Hi. Carrow.”
“So I hear. And you want something from us.”
“I’m willing to trade.” I made my voice firm. Sure, this world was insane, and I felt totally outgunned by three witches, but I could at least pretend to hold my own. “I can read the history or future of objects. Sometimes people.”
The three witches raised their brows.
“Pretty good,” Coraline said.
“Pretty useful.” Mary nodded.
“But what do you want from us?” Beth asked.
“A potion to change my appearance. Or better yet, to make us invisible.”
Mary shook her head. “Nope, no can do on the invisibility. That shit takes forever to make and is, therefore, insanely expensive.”
“You mean my magic isn’t a worthy of a trade for an invisibility potion?” If I still had feathers, they would have ruffled.
Beth shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Would rather sell you something easier and make sure your skills live up to what you’re saying.”
Fair enough, and it wasn’t like I had time to wait for a complicated potion to be brewed. Time was ticking.
Jeeves appeared at the table, his back stiff and his lip curled with distaste as he looked at Mac. In his hands, he held a tray of silver goblets that emitted pink smoke.
“Jeeves!” Coraline shouted.
“Jeeves,” the other two chorused.
I expected Jeeves to look irritated or long-suffering, but he seemed to glow with pleasure.
“Ladies.” He set the platter on the surface of the table, and the three witches each leaned forward to grab a cup.
Mary whispered something to Jeeves that I couldn’t hear.
Coraline eyed Mac and me. “Drink up, bitches!”
Mac and I grabbed a glass, and I took a sip. Flavor exploded on my tongue, the most amazing cocktail I’d ever had. I couldn’t tell if it tasted like fruit or flowers or sugar or magic—probably all of the above. It was amazing, and I couldn’t get enough.
Vaguely, I recognized that maybe I shouldn’t be slugging it back like a two o’clock drunk, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. My hand kept dumping the cocktail into my mouth, and I was all too happy to oblige.
Next to me, Mac did the same.
Finally, we finished and set our cups on the table.
Mac shook her head and looked down at the cup, then up at the witches.
“Holy crap.” She scowled. “You put ambrosia in that.”
“Sure did.” Beth cackled.
“What’s ambrosia?” My voice nearly slurred.