The Executioner's Playlist(in-Progress)

Track 3: Girls Just Want to Have Fun- Cyndi Lauper

"You passed out. We cleaned you up, did away with the evidence." She looked up, pursed her red lips. "You've lost weight, Leto. It suits you."

I looked away to avoid the invitation in her eyes. I'd already let one bewitch me, it would be foolish to let my guard down around the others.

"I've been getting out more," I mumbled.

"What happened to your tattoos," Kimberly asked as she climbed over the back of the couch to snuggle up beside me. She too only wore lace bottoms.

I closed my eyes.

"Hallowed ground," I said. "I wasn't prepared."

"One of The Asha's executioners caught unawares? That's... interesting," Joan commented, her voice dripping with sarcasm and skepticism.

I opened my eyes to find her seated in the armchair in front of me. She lit a cigar with a snap of her fingers and leaned back, crossing her legs. She wore nothing but a silk kimono. I tried not to admire her body, but like her sisters her curves were a throwback to when everyone wasn't obsessed with looking like a Kardashian. Her breasts were small, when compared to the silicone divas who reigned over pop culture, but they were real which gave them a sort of allure.

She smirked and closed her robe.

"Glad I can still grab the attention of a young man." The look on her face said she had no trouble catching all the young fish she wanted.

"I saw your husband tonight," I grumbled to change the subject.

"Which one?" they asked in unison.

All three sat up. Kimberly was excited, Kelly curious, and Joan cautious.

"Lucifer. He was Downtown, stopped me on the street."

Joan groaned and relaxed, taking another pull of her cigar. Kimberly made a dismissive sound and warded the air the way one might shoo off unwanted spirits. Kelly looked wistful.

"Did he ask about me?" she asked, her cheeks reddening slightly, as she set back to the task of patching me up.

"Nah, I think he just wanted to rattle my cage. Ouch!"

She stabbed me with the needle. "Sorry," she said, but I doubted her sincerity.

I yawned. I hadn't felt truly tired in months, the old tattoos pushed away fatigue like security at an R&B concert. Without them, weeks of not sleeping were slowly rolling over me. It was time to talk business.

"How much will I owe you for the patchwork?"

"Blood for blood," Kimberly said dreamily.

"You gave us more than a few drops. We're going to owe you."

The Weird sisters never trafficked in money, though they were never hurting for funds. They liked blood and other things which fueled their magic.

"I could live with that. I need new ink, I lost everything."

"You still have your true sight," Kelly pointed out as she cut the end of the surgical thread.

"It's not the kind of gift that can be easily washed away."

"Neither were our marks."

"True." The Weirds had always wanted my true sight, but The Asha forbid me from trading it away. It was one of the reasons for the beef between them. "Look I need my tats back. How much is it going to cost?"

Kelly took her tools and left the living room, my eyes following the switch of her hips on their own.

"You had three dozen enchantments inked into your flesh," Joan said as she flipped through a ledger that seemed to appear out of thin air. "Some of them were very powerful. None of them were cheap."