Page 19 of Feral Possession

Okay, wow. Rude. But if Dove was forced to walk around in that uncomfortable getup, she’d be crabby too. “Um, yes. Thanks. For the understanding and all.” Sort of.

“Let’s get started. Shall we?”

“I’d really prefer to just look around a bit on my own first. If you don’t mind.”

The woman’s pursed lips said she did mind. Still, she dipped her chin as though bestowing some great favor and swept out her arm.

Dove strolled between racks of stuffy clothing. Nope. Nope. Blech. Nope. She grabbed a lavender top, held it to her chest, and turned to model it for Grumpy Three at the back of the room. Three stared over her head, his massive frame still as a suit of armor in an old castle. She rolled her eyes and crammed the blouse onto the rack. Shopping for tampons was more fun than this.

What she really wanted was to visit Madam Mystique’s. An idea blossomed in her brain. Yes! I’m a genius. She thrust her hands into a four-foot section of clothing, hugged it to her chest, and heaved what had to be thirty pieces of merchandise off the railing.

Arms loaded, she huffed her way to Hilda, who stood behind the gleaming countertop. “Where’s your dressing room? I’d like to try on a few things.” Over the mountain of lackluster garments, she caught the shop owner’s narrow glare. That’s right. Hilda would be the one who had to rehang all this stuff.

“I’ve prepared a space for your use.” Hilda led the way to a suite of cubicles. Once there, she unlocked a door, then stepped aside, not bothering to help with the heavy load.

“Great,” Dove grunted, dumping the pile of overpriced clothing on a bench.

“Would you like some assistance dressing?” Hilda offered as though the words were dragged from her throat with barbed wire.

Dove responded with her sweetest smile. “No, thank you. I’m quite shy about these things.” Ha, ha, she’d almost said that with a straight face. Those improv classes she’d taken a few months ago were paying off in spades. “In fact, I’d rather not be disturbed while I’m changing.”

“Right.” Hilda sniffed, staring down her nose. “I’ll leave you to it.”

As Hilda’s footsteps faded, adrenaline sang through Dove’s veins.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi.

When she reached thirty Mississippi, she cracked the door open and peered into the hallway. To the right lay the boutique. The left, freedom. Every storefront had an ugly back door, out of the public’s eye.

She dug her arm into her bottomless purse, rummaging… rummaging… rummaging. Massive purses were the best for holding all your necessities, that was until you needed to find anything. Got it! Her fingers captured a tube of lipstick. Purple People Eater. While not big on makeup, she’d made an exception when she’d discovered a fabulous shade of purple that matched the tutu she’d worn to a Mardi Gras parade perfectly. Pairing it with some green glitter pasties had earned her a truckload of beads. Good times. Good times.

She shook off the melancholy, cranked the knob on the tube, and scribbled on the mirror. Don’t freak, I’m at Madam Mystique’s. Look at that. She was a poet and didn’t even know it.

A quick peek at the rear of the shop confirmed Grumpy Three continued to stare straight ahead. Good boy. She held her breath, tiptoed through a storage area, and slipped out the back door. Guilt over her little hoax tickled her conscience, and she shoved it away. Eh, it would do them some good to lose track of her for a bit. The practice would train their commando senses for a real catastrophe. Something more dangerous than shopping.

With a bit of covert maneuvering through the back alley, it wasn’t long until she stood outside of Madame Mystique’s. When she opened the door, cheerful fairy chimes announced her arrival. She took in the store, breathing in the welcoming herbal fragrance. In her mind, angels sang their sweet serenade. Bring me home, Goddess of Frivolous Spending.

Mystique’s had it all, from lacey shawls, handcrafted jewelry, to bins of herbs and crystals. From behind a beaded curtain, a woman appeared. Her ebony hair was piled loosely on top of her head, accented with a colorful scarf. Bells jingled from beneath her long skirt when she walked.

“Blessed be.” She smiled, gliding in Dove’s direction. “How can I help you on this glorious day?”

“Blessed be,” Dove said. From her purse, she withdrew the shiny gold credit card Steele had given her and waved it around. “I’ll take all of it. Everything.”

The woman’s eyes twinkled, her smile spreading. “Certainly. But I’m not sure Lord Steele would approve.”

Dove huffed a forlorn sigh. “You’re probably right.” Her brows tightened. “Wait. You know who I am?”

“Madam Mystique knows all,” the woman said in a fake foreign accent, her expression worldly. She laughed. “The local shop owners like to gossip. From the moment you stepped foot outside of Aphrodite’s, everyone knew you were here.”

That was a little creepy. “Seems I’ve become some sort of celebrity, huh?”

“It’s considered quite an accomplishment to have landed a House lord. Steele’s never seen with the same woman twice. We were all curious, to say the least.” She tapped her finger to her chin, looking Dove over. Unlike Hilda, it was done in an admiring fashion. “I must confess, you’re not what I expected.”

Dove wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Celeste, by the way.” The shop keeper extended her hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Dove clasped her palm, and the woman’s aura blazed across her senses; purple, turquoise, and magenta. Ohhh. Her vibe said this gal was legit. An honest to goodness witch. Was this Dove’s lucky day or what?

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