Witch For Hire (Witch For Hire 1)

Chapter Nine

For those with a no paranormal inclination, The Black Cat is a swank nightclub off the beaten path. Placed on a swath of land in a rural location, the stone building looks more like a steakhouse with its black awning and valet parking. It was created to fly under the radar, rumored to be exclusive, and protected by bouncers who vetted everyone coming and going. You couldn’t get in without passing a test if you somehow managed to slip the avoidance wards and spells that covered the ten-mile stretch from the main road out to the location.

The energy enshrining the building is disconcerting. I’ve never thought twice about entering the establishment. It’s not a place for good little witches to go. Morally gray is too kind a description for the club that pedals to the darker side of magical life. I lick my lips. I’m due to meet Halcyon inside for drinks and conversation. I’m lucky she agreed to meet me. I’ll never get any real traction with my search if I don’t have an inside source I can trust.

I check my reflection in the mirror. My short hair is curled to perfection, my black lipstick is on point, and the sheer top with pointed sleeves and stitching that mimic batwings add a pop of interest to the black tank top I’m wearing underneath. Paired with black tights, this outfit is meant to help me blend in.

If only I can get myself together. The dark traces are like a vibration that play too low for most to hear. It makes me queasy and clouds my head. I ground myself, take a deep breath, and leave the haven of my car, slipping into the dark waters. Schooling my face to hide my internal struggle, I walk up the front stairs. The linebackers masquerading as bouncers in black pants and crisp white shirts with black ties look down on me.

“What’s the color of the day?” One holds up a black card. I see beyond the tiny rectangular paper card.

“Ruby Red.”

He nods and steps aside, opening the door with its ornate handle in the shape of a cat’s silhouette with a tail. Nodding my thanks, I slip inside. Seductive power slides along my barriers, seeking weakness, and tempting me with its siren’s song. I ignore it and scan the interior. Black cat silhouettes hang from black chandeliers, behind the bar, on tables, and walls. It’s got a witch charm. Lit in cool shades of blue, the atmosphere is meant to be relaxing. It’s anything but. Scanning the bar, I spot Halcyon.

“Never thought I’d see an Esçhete here.”

I turn to meet the gaze of a fair-haired woman with pale skin, and a hungry look in her almond-shaped hazel eyes.

“I’m here to meet a friend for drinks.” I gather my power around me, like a shield, ready to prove myself if need be.

“Interesting company you’re keeping these days.”

“You seem to know a lot about me for someone whose name I don’t even know.”

She throws her head back and delivers a deep husky laugh. Her bone straight hair cascades around her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Stunning doesn’t begin to describe her new look. “Oh, you are different. I think I like it.”

“My reputation seems to precede me.”

“Believe me, an Esçhete returning home and being seen in the presence of vampires is noticeable.”

“I wasn’t aware we’d gone back to the Dark Ages where we didn’t associate.”

“Put whatever name you like to your involvement with Lord Cortez. It doesn’t change the facts.”

“Hmm. Your first mistake was assuming I was trying to hide them. I’d stay and chat, but I don’t feel the need to answer a with someone so insignificant I don’t know her name.”

Her eyes widen. I flash a smile that’s more teeth than welcome and spin on my heel, giving her my back. Wolves don’t concern themselves with the business of sheep. I’ve never appreciated my family’s teaching so much. It’s like muscle memory, responding in the way I’ve been trained and groomed to since I was ten.

I slip onto the barstool beside Halcyon who turns her head and smiles. Tonight she’s wearing a round neck black lace sheath dress, and I’m impressed with the way she’s applied her makeup. Damn, her smoky eye is on point. I wonder if it’s magic or if she watches YouTube videos in her spare time.

“Welcome to the dark side.”

“I heard you had cookies.” I lean in and lower my voice. “Is this true?”

She snickers. “No, but we have alcohol.”

“Even better.”

“First round is on me.”

“Thank you.” I grab the menu, and we make small talk as I order.

“I’m happy to be hanging out with you, but I got the feeling this wasn’t a social call.”

I glance around. “Is there a place we can talk privately?”

“The booths all have silencing spells.”