Hexed and Bitten

Chapter 13

Moving through the aisle, Arabella tossed item after item into the cart as Tara pushed along behind her. Arabella couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips as they navigated the crowded grocery store. It was such a normal, mundane task, yet she couldn't remember the last time she’d felt this genuinely happy, especially with her old friend by her side.

"This city suits you," Tara remarked with a smile, pushing the cart past a display of fresh produce.

"I miss you, but I have to be honest, I haven't felt this at home in a very long time," Arabella admitted, shaking her head at the silliness of it.

In reality, Salem was just another city, another temporary haven until she inevitably had to pack up and move on to keep her immortality hidden. Maybe she was just becoming sentimental in her old age. That thought made her chuckle softly, she might be eternally frozen at twenty-two, but she was certainly no spring chicken.

"Come on, grandma, let's go replenish your ice cream supply," Tara nudged her playfully with her shoulder, a smirk dancing on her face. She had clearly picked up on Arabella’s internal monologue.

"Out of my head, witch," Arabella grinned.

"Takes one to know one," Tara countered, sticking her tongue out before scurrying playfully down the next aisle.

Shaking her head, Arabella followed after her. It really was good having Tara back, even if it was only a temporary visit.

After finishing their grocery run, they returned to the loft above Hexed & Bitten, putting away their haul before heading downstairs to open the shop. Arabella normally opened much earlier, but given the ongoing stalker threat, she had reduced the shop's operating hours so she and Tara could focus on investigating. She needed to resolve this situation before it escalated any further.

"I really like this shop," Tara murmured, her fingers lightly tapping against a display of crystals as she rearranged them into neat alignments.

"Honey, I'm home!" Vivianne burst through the front door like a bull in a china shop. Pausing abruptly, her eyes widened. "Oh…sorry, I didn't realize you had a customer," she added with a sheepish grimace.

"Hey, Viv. She's not a customer, this is Tara," Arabella said warmly, stepping around the counter.

Tara glanced sideways at Arabella with a cool, unreadable expression before turning her focus back to Vivianne.

"Oh..." Vivianne’s bright smile faltered slightly. "Hi! I'm Vivianne, employee at Hexed & Bitten and best friend to the best boss in the world," she introduced herself, stepping forward with an outstretched hand.

Tara looked her up and down, her features entirely void of emotion. "I'm Tara. The original best friend," she stated plainly, keeping her hands clasped loosely behind her back rather than taking the offered hand.

Vivianne bit her bottom lip, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Okay... well, I'm back, and let me tell you, my parents seriously need a chill pill," she scoffed, making a dramatic air-gun motion toward her own head. "I know I'm not scheduled today, but I figured I'd stop by to see if you needed any help now that I'm back in town."

"She's fine," Tara answered smoothly before Arabella could even open her mouth.

Arabella shot Tara a side-glance, her lips twitching slightly. Was Tara actually jealous of Vivianne? That would be a first, Tara was usually the farthest thing from possessive or petty.

"Okay..." Vivianne hesitated, looking as though she wanted to press the issue, but settled for forcing another bright smile. "Well, if you gals are up for it, I'm heading to Rooster's tonight with Jerry. Maybe for once you could come out and have a little fun?" She gave a dramatic little shimmy.

Tara snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Since when does my Ari not like having a little fun?" She deliberately emphasized Arabella's human alias, finding a subtle, pointed humor in the dynamic.

"Oh, enough, Tara. Stop being mean to Vivianne," Arabella chided lightly, nudging her friend's arm.

Tara let out a soft laugh. "Okay, okay, I'm done. Sorry, Vivianne, I just can't help myself sometimes." Though she offered a sweet smile, Arabella recognized the sharp look lingering in her green eyes, she genuinely disliked Vivianne. Arabella resolved to question her about it the moment they were alone.

"Right... well, I've gotta run. See ya later, Ari," Vivianne said, turning on her heel and exiting the shop.

What a mess, Arabella thought. Whenever Tara eventually returned home, Arabella would have to do some serious damage control with her employee. To be fair, Arabella knew she could have stepped in sooner to shut down the territorial behavior, but something in Tara's eyes had made her hesitate. Tara never acted without a reason. Was this really just simple jealousy, or was there something else at play?

"I think we should go," Tara said several hours later, breaking the silence in the loft.

"Go where?" Arabella asked, looking up from her book.

After closing up the shop for the evening, they had spent the last few hours relaxing upstairs.

"To Rooster's," Tara clarified, closing her own book with a soft snap.

"Why?"

"Well, for starters, your bff invited you," Tara pointed out, not bothering to hide the snark in her tone. "And second, we haven't picked up any fresh leads on that vampire stalker. Why not check out a new venue? He isn't watching you constantly, which means he has to be spending his time somewhere. Maybe he frequents the local nightlife to hunt?"

Arabella opened her mouth to object, but she couldn't dispute the logic. She rarely went out to local bars, making it a prime hunting ground for a rogue vampire looking to avoid her.

"I don't even have anything to wear," Arabella grumbled. It was a lie, she had plenty of clothes, but it had been ages since she’d gone clubbing, and she had no idea what people wore these days.

"Oh, please. If I can't find something in your closet, I'll just alter an outfit with a bit of magic," Tara grinned, her eyes flashing with a faint metallic shimmer.

"Why did you act that way with Vivianne?" Arabella asked, turning toward the vanity mirror to apply a final touch of dark mascara to her lashes.

"What do you mean?" Tara shrugged carelessly, leaning back against the doorframe as if she hadn't just spent the afternoon projecting arctic frost toward Arabella's friend.

"Come on, Tara." Arabella turned in her chair, giving her a pointed, pleading look.

Tara’s playful demeanor vanished instantly, replaced by a severe, absolute focus. "It's nothing, I just... something isn't right with that girl. I sense a darkness clinging to her like a shroud. It's oppressive."

Arabella opened and closed her mouth, momentarily lost for words. She knew better than to dismiss Tara's intuition, the seer's instincts were rarely wrong. But this was Vivianne. Bubbly, dramatic, party-loving Vivianne. Maybe Tara’s magic was misinterpreting something. Perhaps Vivianne was dealing with personal issues and hiding them behind her usual high energy. Deciding not to push the matter further for now, Arabella finished getting ready.

A short drive later, Tara pulled her car up to the curb down the street from the bustling bar district. Stepping out onto the pavement, the crisp night air nipped at Arabella's skin.

Her outfit was entirely courtesy of Tara’s styling, high-waisted black leather pants paired with sleek black block heels, and a white crop top that exposed her midriff. The hem left her lower right back exposed, showing off the small, tanned star-shaped birthmark near her hip.

Tara grinned, visibly pleased with her work. She looked striking herself in a dark ruby-red dress that hit mid-thigh, paired with matching heels. Both of them had styled their hair into cascading curls that bounced as they walked.

Stepping into the thrumming, dimly lit interior of Rooster's, the heavy bass of the music vibrated through the floorboards. Tara hooked her arm through Arabella's, guiding her through the crowd toward the main counter. Arabella let herself be pulled along, her sharp gaze scanning the high-top tables and booths for Vivianne and Jerry.

She expected to spot her employee waving from across the room. What she didn't expect was the figure sitting two stools down at the bar.

David was sitting alone, nursing an amber glass of beer.

He looked exhausted, dark shadows smudged beneath his hazel eyes, his strong jaw rough with several days' worth of stubble, as though he hadn't slept since she pushed him away. Despite his fatigue, the broad line of his shoulders and sharp profile made her pulse betray her with a sudden flutter.

Arabella’s feet locked against the floorboards. Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and slip out before he noticed her. But Tara remained focused on her goal, her grip firm on Arabella's arm as she steered them straight toward the counter.

Swallowing hard, Arabella forced her expression into a calm mask. This was about to get extremely awkward.