Lovely Witches Club

Chapter 8: Witches

Piper didn't seem put off by my silence on the thirty minute drive, humming softly to herself the entire time. Despite telling me at the coffee shop we could talk on the way to wherever it was we were going-The Cupboard, right-she seemed content to maintain silence and keep her own counsel.

As for me, I was far too grumpy to prod her for details or be interested in small talk. Now that I had time to stop and think, I was starting to wonder what the hell was wrong with me. What was I doing? This was nuts, totally and completely out of character. The stable, levelheaded Reese I was would never abandon her entire life, career, hopes and dreams to run off to Prince Edward Island on a moment's notice to film a documentary about witches of all things.

I didn't even believe in God or ghosts or any of that shtick. Seriously. This wasn't going to end well. On the other hand, maybe debunking this group might be fun. Except, of course, if they decided my version of their idea of the truth was more insulting than insightful, they might refuse to pay me. Or turn me into a frog or something.

Right. Snort. I'd just have to get the money up front.

When we pulled into a parking lot, a few cars tucked close to the front door of a brightly painted building, I felt a zing of panic rise. I could get out of this, right? They'd sent me money, most of which I'd spent getting here, but surely they wouldn't make me pay it back if it turned out I couldn't give them what they needed? They'd hired the wrong film maker, that much was clear. I hesitated as Piper spun into a spot, the car jerking to a halt, and didn't wait for me, unclipping her seatbelt and exiting the car, leaving me behind. I could maybe hide out here and no one would notice.

Honestly, Reese, pull it together. I'd handled worse situations. Hell, I'd wrangled Larry on a daily basis. What's a bunch of women who thought they were witches compared to the nutcase I'd worked with for the last three years? Where was this fear and reticence really coming from?

I had no idea. But something held me back, gave me the chills, made my heart thud in my chest as I forced myself to breathe while panic rose in sharp waves and tried to wash over me.

The car door jerked open and I shrieked softly in response, looking up to find Piper waiting for me, head tilted to one side, long, black hair shining over her shoulder while her floppy hat hid one dark eye.

"Are you coming?"

I reluctantly exited the car, hands clutching at the strap of my purse slung over my chest, like it would protect me from whatever was coming. That sparkly feeling I'd had earlier-both in my apartment and on the bridge-was long gone, replaced by a sense of darkness and foreboding that slowed my steps to a crawl.

I looked up at the patter of feet, gasped a breath as someone flung their arms around me and hugged me tight. The moment she did, the-dare I use the word-spell of shadowed weight fell away and I found myself hugging her back while she squealed in my ear.

"Reese!" She pushed me away, another redhead, this one, freckles dancing over her nose and cheeks, bright green eyes alight with joy. She quivered with delight, the best way I can describe it, and hugged me again with equal enthusiasm. "You're here!"

"Easy, Vine," Piper said, chuckling. "We just got her. Don't break her."

The young woman with the red hair backed off then, giggling, hugging herself as if to keep from embracing me all over again. "Sorry," she bubbled over with excitement and I wondered if this was her natural state of being and, if so, would I be able to handle such enthusiasm on a regular basis. "I'm just so happy to see you!"

"We all are." Another woman joined us, her slim body dressed in what I could only call Bohemian chic, flowing skirt and blouse screaming witch. Though her dark auburn hair and the deep amber of her eyes held the kind of sincerity and kindness that dispelled any disdain I might have for her attire. "Rosary, darling. Welcome."

I shook her offered hand before shrugging. "Thanks...?"

Rosary laughed, deep and throaty, smiling then at Piper. "She is truly lovely, isn't she?" Weird to have her talk about me like that when I was standing right here, but the other two-excitable Vine included-nodded like it was completely normal.

Okay then, awesome.

Vine lunged forward and hooked her hand through my arm, pulling me toward the front door of the bright yellow building. A hanging sign creaked in the breeze that smelled of salt and sand, The Witches Cupboard in black on gold as Piper spoke.

"Let's go meet Agnes, shall we?"

Right, Agnes. The author of the invitation letter. Was it just me or was all of this more than a little surreal? Out of options yet again and unable to muster a single reason why I shouldn't join them, I let Vine drag me through the glass door and into the interior of the shop.

A few customers browsed, a clerk helping them, but we didn't pause, Piper and Rosary taking the lead, Vine staring at me with a huge smile on her face and what I can only call stars in her eyes, like she'd been waiting to meet me her whole life or something. Completely disconcerting and more than a little distracting.

So by the time we passed through the door to the back of the shop, that disoriented feeling had returned full force, made worse when the door swung shut and the dark of the back room engulfed us. Vine's hand on my arm disappeared, the three women who had guided me gliding forward into the shadows, just visible by the green glow up ahead. I stumbled as I went after them, not sure what else to do. What was this? Some kind of joke?

I froze as a woman appeared, her black robe shrouding her, the green light casting her face in an eerie glow while my three guides joined her. They faced me in a freakish semicircle, the illumination washing them in an almost iridescence as the older woman raised her hand and gestured.

"Welcome," she said, "to my lair." And laughed like it was funny.

***