I took the 50% deposit down, went through my refund policy, which was basically nil unless they cancelled 48 hours in advance, and finally hung up thephone.
I stared at the receiver for a minute, shaken but unable to tell why. Something inside of me twisted. Whoever this woman was, I didn’t want to meet her because I felt like if I did, my life was going to change in some pretty unpleasantways.
Standing up from the chair, I tidied up my desk and updated my calendar with the fake info the woman had given me: Lila Rose, a vampire real estate agent. It was possible the info was true, but in my field, that was almost never thecase.
I finished updating things and went out into the bar area to make sure everything was ready to open. Even though I didn’t need to, I wiped down the hardwood of the bar, made sure the taps were clean and we were fully supplied for the next week. I checked the tank for the new Blood Moon beer we’d just gotten in which turned out to be a pretty spectacular hit in this area. The brewer, one of the Lupin pack, had pitched his product in person and I’d been so charmed by him, I ordered on the spot without even tasting. That was extremely rare for me, but it turned out to be a great decision because his beer was selling like hotcakes. It was an odd beer with a flavor profile I’d never tasted before. Chocolate and coffee mixed with the slightest hint of cinnamon gave way to a beer that was not quite a stout, but not even close to being a lightweight. It was a hit particularly with the men who all seemed to enjoy the darker beers wesold.
We were full and had two more weeks of supply in the cooler and everything else looked good, too. I checked all of the tables and made sure they were all stocked with silverware and napkins before I headed to the backarea.
The Magical Brew was the product of me wanting to own a business, but not wanting it to become a kitschy tourist trap. Due to the stereotypes of my profession, it was difficult to be taken seriously. There were so many fly by night operations within this country that I was forced to operate here solely. The people who lived here were required to be licensed by the city, and licensing was not an easy process to go through. If you were a charlatan, you’d be found out and most likely disposed of within minutes of approaching the licensing board. No one quite knew what the “disposing” consisted of, but those who came in and were found wanting were usually never seen again. The optimist in me hoped this meant they were just kicked out of town. The realist in me knew it was something a wee bit more sinister thanthat.
I'd undergone the process several years ago and was terrified my secret would leak out to the people in this town, but when I got into the room, there was a friendly lawyer and a whole stack of paperwork waiting for me. It took me hours to go through everything, but it was the most straightforward legal document I'd ever seen. They would not release any of my information, nor reveal my paranormal class, and I would agree to never speak about the licensing process or anything I saw during the time I wasthere.
Easy enough. I signed on the dotted line and spent the next two hours in a grueling meeting which felt more like an FBI interrogation than an interview process. I had to prove multiple times I could act as a Jinn and provide whatever the interviewer wanted. By the end of my time there, the room was full of well-oiled pool boys, dozens of cupcakes, a pony, a box of one hundred dollar bills neatly folded into origami swans equaling one million dollars, and a bottle of discontinuedperfume.
I left the room perplexed and pissed off, but with a license to practice with the ink still wet on it. The good thing about living here though was once you got your license, you didn't have to renew it. Provided you could pay for the damn thing in the first place. The price was outrageous and the whole thing felt like making a deal with thedevil.
However, I'd gone through it. I'd won my license and my right to have a business here, and I was happy. For the most part. If men never existed, I'd be delirious with happiness. But alas, they did and I had to deal with the betrayal until hopefully one day it didn't hurt when my thoughts drifted to my relationships of the last fewyears.
I pushed open the door to my office and the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle incense hit me full in the face. I took a deep breath and felt my shoulders fall with a release oftension.
This was my favorite place to be. I hoped one day my house would be, but right now it was in shambles, so this had to do. The walls were painted a pretty lavender and in the middle of the ceiling a chandelier with dangling crystals hung. In the middle of the room sat a white desk with a deep purple covering over it. On top of it was my incense burner, a lighter, a stack of tarot cards and a bottle of white sage spray made by the Comey sisters, the most powerful witches in thetown.
It was an odd combination if you weren't used to it, but those were all the tools I needed to make the best determination on whether to move forward with a request. The incense burner was used to put me into a meditative state. The lighter was obvious, though sometimes when someone super annoying came in I would fantasize about lighting the customer's hair on fire. The stack of tarot helped me see the possible results of the wish if granted, and added as an extra boost to my already substantial power. And the white sage helped clear any negative energies from my space. I used it before every session and sometimes during a session if someone brought particularly weird energy with them. That happened more often than not these days. This town had some pretty weird folks moving inlately.
When I designed this office I'd wanted to make it comfortable, yet welcoming to my customers. The floor was polished hardwood, but a massive brightly colored rug took up a lot of it. Two comfortable lavender chairs sat in front of my desk, but there was also a white couch sitting off to the left if someone wanted to really get comfortable. Behind the desk loomed a massive built in bookcase, stuffed to the brim with books and trinkets I'd brought from home or been given. Some of them had magical significance, such as the bottle belonging to one of my aunts who passed away after refusing a wish from a very badperson.
The thing about Jinns which wasn't so fun was the requirement we retreat to our bottles once a quarter to recharge our magic. We were at our most vulnerable there, and every time I had to go in, I always became nervous about it. Like maybe I'd wake up and find myself in a different country or something because someone had stolen it. All Jinns were nervous about forced servitude. I had a nifty hiding spot tucked underneath my bed in my master suite. It was a loose floorboard but it seamed perfectly together with the rest of the floor. It was also under a relatively strong locking spell. Someone would have to know my personal keyword to access the bottle. I had never told a soul about it. Of course, my family knew of the quarterly limitations because they were subjected to it, but few of us ever relinquished the secret locations of ourbottles.
However, since my aunt was no longer here, I now had possession of it. To a normal person it was just a pretty, decorative bottle, similar to the kinds you usually saw during a craft or shopping show. Cheap and disposable and a very convenient gift. The problem with those was occasionally, one of our bottles got mixed up in there due to bad luck and bad timing, and it was damn near impossible to figure out which one it was without shaking it and causing a whole bunch of drama. Most humans were not equipped with a strong enough heart to see someone exit a one inchhole.
I sighed, kicked off my sandals, and sat down in the comfortable office chair behind my desk. With a quick whispered word, the glamour I wore dropped off. For just a little while. I'd have to restore most of it before my first customer came in, but it wasn't exactly comfortable to wear. I had been contemplating hiring the Comey sisters to come and see if they could install a spell at the doorstep of my shop that would wipe the memory of my face from my customer's mind and replace it with the face I wore as a glamour. That way I wouldn't have to be so secretive with my comings and goings. It would be similar to the spell I used on Jeff, but it would need a lot more juice. I could see someone as myself but as soon as they stepped over the threshold to leave, they would remember everything about their session, but they would believe I was a short and petite blonde haired woman with dark browneyes.
It would no doubt be outrageously expensive to have a spell like that done, but...I was tired. I needed a break. I leaned back in my chair, shook my hair out, and spent the next 45 minutes in deep meditation to ensure I was ready for the busy day of magic ahead of me. I usually left work each day totally wrung out, but it was even worse lately because I had to make up for all of the time I missed while depressed on mycouch.
When the soft music I'd put on died down and my bell timer sent out a soft chime, I opened my eyes, exhaled, and whispered the words to return my glamour. After a quick glance in the mirror showing me all was right with my new features, I stood and walked out to open the doors to myshop.
Istaredat the woman like she was a strange dog who just pooped on my carpet. Granted, I'd seen some weird shit doing this job, but after all this time people still managed to surprise me. This time it was a relatively young, attractive woman who, from the outside, seemed to have her life together. She was well put together, clothing wise. Her hair was styled neatly, her makeup flawless. She wore a bright silver watch, didn't fidget with nervousness, and her nail polish was smooth and unblemished. Her name was Sarah. She ownedThe Book Bitchesin the middle of town, so I assumed she was well-read and educated, but she was a complete and total freak, and my fingers were itching to hit the panic button under my desk because she was totally weirding meout.
It started out completely normal. In fact, I'd breathed a sigh of relief when I saw her walk in because she looked completely normal. This, of course, should have been my first clue. The most normal of people can sometimes be the worst closet freaks you'd evermet.
Sarah had met someone online through the only competitor the town's dating agency had. Almost no one used the app, so I was already apprehensive before she finished the story. The man was polyamorous, which I didn't know what that meant and I had to look it up discreetly while she spoke. Being non-monogamous was fine. I tried not to judge. I didn't know anyone's stories so I took everything with a grain ofsalt.
But then came the doozie. The man requested a public orgy in the middle of town but everyone was required to be dipped in liquid latex first. She didn't seem bothered by the request. At all. So instead of interrupting her, I let her continue because now I was morbidly curious about where this wasgoing.
Because an orgy just wasn’t enough for thisdude.
The public sex was to be followed by a wedding performed by a werewolf stripper in half beast form wearing a bikini, and the reception was to be staged with mermaidstrippers.
I cut her off. "Sarah. Are you fucking withme?"
She blinked her big blue eyes rapidly. No amusement was on her face.Whatsoever.
"Why would I do that? It took me weeks to get thisappointment!"
"So this is a seriousrequest?"
Shenodded.
