Page 81 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding
Lucy, now completely fascinated with Pandora’s crazy family, asked for endless updates as they took the Tube across town, before setting out on foot toward the little back street that wasn’t well lit and, therefore, not much of a stop for tourists nor locals.
The Arcane Emporium was tucked into an unassuming corner storefront down the cobblestone street. It was painted a deep-forest-green color and its front window was half obscured by dried plants and flowers hanging down by their stems.
As they approached, the heavy wooden door began to shimmer, catching the light to reveal some sort of sigil that seemed to dance in and out of sight. Like it was recognizing them, or maybe revealing them to the proprietor within.
Lucy shared a look with Pandora before she reached for the brass door handle and pushed. It opened with a groan as the women stepped inside.
The air within was thick, heavy with scents of old parchment, herbs, metals, and incense.
Dim light flickered from the many wrought-iron wall sconces and candelabras, casting part of the shop in shadows thanks to the labyrinth created by towering shelves that weaved through the interior.
Pandora had a fleeting thought that whispered that if she walked into one of those rows, that she might neveremerge again. There was almost something vaguely threatening about the aura in the building. But, she reminded herself, that was likely simply wards created to keep wrongdoers out. She was probably feeling it so strongly because she was, by nature, evil, so the wards were pressing on her a bit, even if they were allowing her to move inside.
Closer inspection revealed that many of the shelves were stuffed and bowing with heavy leather-bound tomes, jars of various substances – dried petals, glowing liquids, bones of different sizes and origins – and ancient-looking scrolls, complete with unbroken wax insignias.
On all other surfaces – shelves, tables, countertops – artifacts fought for space. Rune-etched stones and boxes, tarnished astrolabes, figurines, and heavy-looking wands.
The shop itself felt alive to Pandora, like it had its own pulse and soul, as if all the items gathered within hummed with their own latent energy.
Each creak of the floorboards as they walked echoed with whispers of forgotten rituals.
In a glass case toward the back of the shop, items were hidden behind locks that glowed and flickered, that seemed to whimper softly.
There was nothing about this shop that invited any novice to move inside, to play around with a craft they knew nothing about. The entire establishment seemed to actively try to scare you away from practicing the dark or forbidden magicks they offered supplies for.
Then, emerging seemingly out of nowhere, the shopkeeper stepped in front of their path.
She was a striking woman of indeterminate age whose presence commanded notice, but also oozed mysteries.
She was dressed in layers of deep, shadowy velvet in shades of black, midnight blue, and plum, reminding Pandora of sorceresses in many books she’d read. Intricate embroidery of unknown symbols adorned the chest and cuffs of her gown. The threads caught the light and shimmered, in much the same way as the sigil on the front door had, charged with some sort of magick.
The woman’s hair tumbled in waves of blonde and white over her shoulders, framing a face of sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes the colour of storm clouds, keen and forbidding.
Her hands, adorned with an array of rings, moved with a precision that suggested a lifetime of practice as she drew something in the air before the two women.
Another sigil, Pandora thought.
A chain hung around the woman’s neck, holding a vial of something that seemed suspiciously alive, undulating and shivering behind the glass containing it.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had a vampire and werewolf in here at the same time,” she said, her voice low and deliberate, each word imbued with the weight of ancient knowledge.
While Pandora didn’t feel she was unfriendly, there was something guarded about her as she looked over them.
“Yeah, that vampire–werewolf rivalry is totally overblown,” Lucy said, waving a hand, trying to play off the discomfort that Pandora could feel emanating from her.
“It is not,” the proprietor said, brows furrowing, as if trying to figure out why Lucy was being dishonest with her.
“Well, I mean, for us it is,” Lucy said, waving towardPandora. “We’re best friends. Supernatural creatures have more in common than they don’t, I think. Even her crazy family seems to be OK with me. Well, more OK than they are with humans, I guess. Why am I babbling?” she asked, looking to Pandora with panicky eyes.
“I think she’s making you,” Pandora said, watching the shopkeeper closely, feeling it herself. It wasn’t a glamour, per se. She didn’t feel drunk the way Victor or other humans sounded when a vampire put the whammy on them. This was more like being drawn forward, like there was a warm hug enveloping her, making her feel comfortable enough to open up, to spill all of her secrets.
“Very good,” the woman said, nodding. And just like that, Pandora felt released. “What would bring a vampire and a werewolf here together?”
“Well, that’s about my friend here,” Lucy said. “She’s engaged.”
“Congratulations.” The woman’s gaze slid to the ring. “The former keeper of that ring had a long, happy marriage,” she said, making Pandora’s brows lift.
“Yes, well, her fiancé is of the warm-blooded variety. And, well, he can’t know they’re vampires. And her family can’t know … some secrets they’re keeping,” Lucy said, waving toward Pandora again.
