Drinks - After Hours

published on December 13, 2021

The witch set the candle next to a brass spelling bowl resting near the edge of Salvatori's Japanese coffee table. Talia eyed the pulsing, thin light at each corner of the table as she waved a hand over the wick, whispering, "Om boll ee vais". A tiny flame sprang to life instantly. She reached for her ritual dagger and slid the blade across her palm, squeezing a small fist over dried flowers so that her blood kindled her spell and painted the pink petals nestling in the bowl red.

"Oose vix et don a la veit et."

A man flickered into view, appearing to be seated beside the blonde woman.

"You're late," she chided, her eyes revealing delight at seeing him seated next to her.

"Only by 2 milliseconds. Jesus," he said.

She beamed at him and poured herself a shot of tequila.

"Drinking that clear piss, I see," he sighed.

She lifted a brow, her smile never wavering. "Declan, aren't you going to join me?"

They were seated in the lounge of The Salvatori Sector at Witch Inc., protected in a wide circle of salt. At least, that was the illusion they had conjured for their tête-à-tête. They met once a week, for the most part, in various "locations".

"GOD. Get rid of that ridiculous hat," he said as he lifted his own shot glass and threw dark, amber liquid back, enjoying how it slid down his throat like warm honey.

"I like it. It's floppy," she said lightly.

"Ah yes, let's not forget you like floppy things," he teased with a wink.

"I DO NOT like floppy things. Gross," she said almost immediately, splaying her hand out in front of her. "Stop this conversation now. It's so inappropriate."

He laughed, and the sound was rich and comforting to her ears.

"Besides, I wear it to annoy you, dear brother," Talia smirked and threw back her drink, in turn.

"I'm not even in the same city as you, sister dearest," she heard him say before she turned to face him fully.

"Please. I know you spy on me every chance you get."

"True," he said and poured more fine spirits into his shot glass.

"How's your girlfriend? How's my ex blood-sucking-boyfriend for that matter?" She leaned forward then and poured herself another.

"We broke up," he started to explain, not quite meeting her eyes.

This did not go unnoticed, "Again??" she teased, keeping her voice light and letting the topic slide for the moment, but they would need to revisit it later.

He ignored her and continued. "And no worries, Talia. You're still cloaked. Try as he may he will not find you."

"Well, that's a relief," she said flippantly, but the relief was truly felt. And they both knew it.

"How is business, love?" He leaned forward as if to touch her for the illusion was so real, but they knew they were thousands of miles apart.

She gave a half-shrug. "Profitable.” She gulped down another shot and placed the heavy glass on the table. “Guess what I saw on my way home through the tunnels the other day…”

“Let me guess, another man flayed? My god you live in the worst place on earth. Who chooses to live in the sewers,” he shivered.

Talia pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms across her chest and waited for him to finish. Declan threw his hands up. “Fine, do tell. I can’t wait to hear what tragedy has befallen some poor schmuck today.”

"And it's not the sewers," she started...