8 - Bad Fortunes

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Janelle led us up a flight of stairs at the back of her shop. At the top, she unlocked a bright, eggplant purple door and revealed a large apartment that seemed to take up the entire second floor. Simple furnishings and a warm palette of yellow, brown, and red gave it a welcoming and homey atmosphere, while the style and decor offered plenty to interest the eye. There was a case of old books behind glass, carved wooden statues of people and animals, and a veritable jungle of vibrantly healthy houseplants filling every windowsill, available surface, and corner.

"Get comfy," Janelle said, waving at a set of sofas and chairs. "I'll make some coffee."

Ro flopped onto a rattan throne, and I settled myself on the smaller sofa.

"You'd never know this was up here, from the street," I remarked, taking in the spacious living area.

Kyrie's soft, smooth voice startled me as she spoke at my side. She moved like a silent shadow, and I hadn't realized she'd followed us upstairs.

"Janelle owns this building," she said, coming to sit on the sofa across from me. "She and I live on this floor, and she rents the spaces on either side of the spell shop."

"There's a nightclub in the basement, too," Ro said. "But I wouldn't go down there if I were you. Unless you want to be eaten alive."

Returning with a tray laden with a coffee pot and cups, Janelle caught this last bit and made a dismissive sound.

"Carmella's not that bad," she said. "Besides, she pays her rent on time. That's all I care about."

"Yes—never mind the odd customer leaving via trash bag," Ro commented, as he mixed himself a cup of coffee-flavored sugar and cream. "I suppose you've got to overlook little things like that, when your own operation isn't exactly above board."

Janelle scowled at him, and I glanced from one to the other, feeling a bit lost, and wondering exactly what sort of people I'd gotten myself mixed up with. Besides the fact they were witches and daemons, that is.

"You watch yourself, Ro," Janelle said, pouring herself a cup of coffee, which she took black. "I only take in well-behaved strays."

Ro snorted.

"Strays?" I asked, having gotten the sense we weren't talking about the usual kinds of cats and dogs.

"Stray familiars," Janelle said, pushing the coffee tray towards me. Out of politeness, I poured myself a cup, even though caffeine was the last thing I needed right then. "See, according to witch law, familiars are only allowed in this world if they're bound to a witch. Once their witch dies or releases them, they're supposed to return to their native realm. Only, some don't want to, and some can't. Some are fugitives, like Ro here, or come from persecuted castes."

"Unattached familiars who refuse to leave voluntarily are, if captured, forcibly exorcised and returned to their home dimensions," Kyrie explained. "Janelle gives them a safe place to stay until they can find a new witch, or another more welcoming realm."

"And good luck with that," Ro said. "We come to 'earth' for a reason. It's in a 'Goldilocks' plane. You humans don't know how good you have it. Although personally, I'll take my chances back home before I willingly bind myself to another witch. No offense." He glanced up at me.

"Not all witches are like Oscar," Kyrie said.

"Not all witches are like Janelle, either," Ro replied. "You got lucky."

"Wait, you're...?" I looked at Kyrie uncertainly.

"I am Janelle's familiar, yes."

"And companion, and equal, and lover," Janelle added firmly.

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