A/N: Hello Luthien Oropherion! Glad you're excited for the multi-part-ness of this whole story. Because I may have written *checks notes* FIVE stories. All roughly the same length. Can't guarantee you'll like each one as much as the other, but I hope you enjoy the journey regardless. :)
The bell dinged overhead as Willow and Beth strolled into the small magic shop. The pungent odor of incense, and Beth could only guess what else, hit them like a brick wall. Willow breathed in deeply and exhaled, her shoulders slumping in relaxation. Beth choked.
"That is powerful," she spluttered as her nose was assaulted with the heavy scent.
"It's magicks," Willow reminded her softly.
"No, that is my lungs giving out," she retorted. The magic shop was just as she expected it to look: cheesily done up for gawking, brainless customers, none of whom were actually practioners. There were rows upon rows of crystal balls and racks of healing crystals in the front. Heavy drapes hung from the ceiling and the wood floor creaked underneath her feet.
"Sell any wands you think?" Beth joked, fingering through a charm bowl on a table.
"Hush," Willow reprimanded. "Besides, they keep all the good stuff in back so the dumb teenagers don't get ahold of it."
"Like Eye of Newt?" she asked with a chuckle.
Willow glared at her before grumbling, "Yes."
She smirked as she turned toward the book shelves along the wall. Some of them actually looked like old tombs that would be useful for a practicing witch or warlock, but the rest were brightly colored with titles reading Magic for Dummies and Witches 101.
"The council really tightened its control over magic shops," Willow explained when her niece held up a book with mild confusion. "A lot of texts and scrolls they used to sell were considered contraband by the council in an effort to keep evil practioners in check. The more popular magic had become, the more dangerous it made people."
"So they took all the fun stuff," she simplified.
Willow sighed and nodded unhappily.
"I get a lot of people coming through this shop," a woman's voice spoke out, "but none nearly as knowledgeable as you."
Both Willow and Beth turned around to see a middle-aged woman stepping out from behind a closed door with a sign reading KEEP OUT EMPLOYEES ONLY. She placed a small ornate-looking box on the counter and smiled at them.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Willow asked, confused. "I don't mean to sound rude, but I come around here very often and I've never seen you before."
The woman laughed softly, her smile never faltering. Her grey-streaked brown hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and a shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. "Oh, excuse me, where are my manners? My name is Emmie. I'm the shopkeeper here."
"What happened to Alfonso?" Willow asked. "I thought he owned the shop. Said it was a family business."
Emmie waved her hand through the air, dismissing Willow's concern. "Oh, and it still is. I'm his daughter. He went away to the country for his health you see. He was an old, rickety man."
Well, if that wasn't the most suspicious statement Beth had ever heard, she didn't know what would be. Went away to the country? What was this, the 1800s now?
"Oh, you know, he did look a little under the weather," Willow commented. "I think I remember him saying he wanted to go away a bit, but didn't have anyone to look after the shop while he would be gone. I told him I could do it, but he laughed and said no, saying it was a family business and yada yada yada."
Emmie laughed again. "Sounds just like my father. I agreed to watch the shop a bit when he asked. Just finished up a rather nasty divorce and was looking to escape. My father offered the perfect plan," she explained.
Beth rolled her eyes as Willow and Emmie launched into a deep discussion about how terrible and messy men were. There were much better things to do at the magic shop anyway, like read Magic for Dummies.
Just as she debated over whether or not to open a jar reading Instant Fog to see how instant it actually was, the doorbell rang again and in stepped a short, dark-skinned woman Beth immediately recognized as one of Nadja's aunts.
"Oh, hello there," she greeted when she noticed Beth. "You're Nadja's friend, aren't you? We met last year at the family gathering."
"Yes, and it's Beth," she answered, putting down the jar, sure any relative of Nadja's would be smart enough to know that Beth only meant trouble holding it.
"Oh, yes, Beth. The slayer's daughter," she said with a laugh. "I remember you now. The boys wouldn't stop exclaiming over how happy they were when you left. You really left quite the impression on them, you know. I'm Esmeralda, by the way, but you can call me Esme."
"You practice magic?" she inquired.
"I do," Esme confirmed. "Have been ever since I was a little girl and my brothers said I couldn't. Only made me want to do it more. Do you practice? Nadja never mentioned that."
She shook her head. "No, I'm not really allowed to. I can do some meditation style stuff, but no potions and funny words according to my dad's rules. My aunt does though. I came with her." Beth pointed to Willow still at the counter, happily chatting with Emmie.
"Hello, Emmie," Esme greeted when she saw the woman.
"Oh, Esmeralda!" Emmie exclaimed. "How good it is to see you today! I got just what you asked for. It wasn't easy to get ahold of. That merchant drove a tough bargain, let me tell you."
Emmie picked up the ornate box and walked around the counter over to Esme. "Oh, this is exactly what I needed," she gasped, taking the box into her hands.
"What is it?" Beth asked, stepping closer to the counter in curiosity.
Esme opened the box and lifted the lid so Beth could peer inside. It was a large red crystal with silver spider-webbing around it to create a cage. All in all, it was a very witchy necklace.
"Don't touch it," Esme told her.
"Is that what I think it is?" Willow asked breathily, her eyes wide in excitement.
"What? What is it?" Beth asked. She hated being left out of things.
"The Jewel of Herlanthrop," Esme said, which meant absolutely nothing to Beth. "It's cursed."
"Cursed with what?" Beth asked.
"Anyone who touches it dies a very painful death," Willow explained. "Or so they say."
"Yes, that is what they say," Esme responded. "I've been developing a special curse detector spell and I want to test it out to see how strong it is."
"But how do you know it's actually cursed and not just a rumor?" Willow asked.
"All about trial and error," Esme answered. "I've tried out my spell on objects I have cursed myself and so far, it has not failed me. Now, I'm moving onto other cursed objects, especially ancient ones. Those are usually the worst."
"So, it's possible that your spell will fail you, you'll touch the Jewel of Her Land and Rope, and die a very painful death?" Beth inquired.
Esme grinned. "That's the worst option, yes."
"Well, I'm going to need that back," Emmie reminded her. "It's on loan. Something like that should not be left out in the open. It's a very dangerous necklace."
"But would go great with those pumps I have at home," Beth murmured jokingly.
"You sure are putting a lot on the line for this spell of yours," Willow noted.
Esme shrugged. "Maybe, but I have confidence in my own powers. Besides, if I want to accomplish new magic, I'm going to have to take a few risks."
Willow smiled at Esme. "I'm Willow," she introduced.
"Yes, Beth's aunt. My name is Esme, aunt of Nadja."
"Oh, so you're a Kalder," Willow realized.
Esme sighed. "Yes, that is becoming quite apparent with your family, isn't it? I've been informed you're in—how do they put it? 'Cahoots' with Angelus?"
Willow laughed nervously. "Just a bit, yeah. He's been a real help though, him and Spike."
"Spike?" Esme asked, her head tilted in confusion.
Time for damage control. "Oops," Beth said, backing into a large urn and knocking the entire thing over, taking a stand of idols with it. All three women jumped as the sound startled them.
"Bethie, I can't take you anywhere," Willow complained, eyeing the mess.
"Oh, come now, no worries," Emmie soothed. "What are witches for after all?"
With a small, little smug smile, Esme waved her hand and everything righted itself again. "Emmie's right. What problem?"
"See? Not an item was broken," Emmie proclaimed, walking over to Beth. "Just better watch our feet, shouldn't we?"
She eyed the older woman. "Sorry, I was born with two left feet."
"Now, we both know that's not true," Emmie chuckled. "I see great power coming from you, little girl."
She narrowed her eyes at the woman. "What do you mean by that?"
"Your aura. It's very powerful," Emmie explained. "Here, come with me." She pulled Beth further into the shop, leaving Esmeralda and Willow talking (hopefully not about a certain ex-vampire).
Emmie stopped Beth beside a glass case full of rocks and minerals that looked vaguely like that one boring display that was at every museum. Emmie unlocked the case with a ring of keys she pulled from her pants pocket and slid the glass door open. "Now, hold out your hand," she instructed and Beth did as she was told, despite this feeling like the beginning of one of those gross jokes where someone dropped a cockroach or something into your hand. Now, Beth may have been up to her elbows in demon's intestines several times over (dissecting frogs were overrated), but cockroaches were gross.
Emmie pulled out a rough grey rock, just like the ones Beth could find in her own backyard, and placed it in her open palm.
"Thank you?" she said, unsure if this was some sort of joke. Was it an initiation into the magical world or something? Was she being hazed?
Emmie chuckled. "You don't know what that is, do you?"
"A rock," she stated, eyebrow raised.
Emmie leveled her with an exasperated look. "Smart one, aren't we?"
"That's what my parents keep telling me," she quipped.
"Now, what color is it?"
Beth gave Emmie the most stereotypical, teenage "Are you Kidding Me?" look she could conceive (and considering her mother's past record, Beth liked to think she learned from the best) and glanced down at the rock.
"Grey," she responded plainly. "Grey like a rock."
"That's only because you're not looking hard enough," Emmie told her. "Concentrate more."
She sighed and all but glared at the rock. If she concentrated any more, she'd be dehydrated juice. Though she did notice some crystal-like parts to the rock that made it seem kind of shiny. That was a bit pretty and there was a smooth black spot that looked a bit like obs—Beth's mindless observations cut off when she saw a flash of red from the rock. It was there and then it was gone, and she wasn't sure if it was her eyes failing or a reflection of sun through the colored glass window.
"Saw it, did you?" Emmie asked with an impish smile. "What color was it?"
"So that was the rock and not me?" she asked for clarification, looking up at the older woman for an answer.
Emmie huffed and rolled her eyes impatiently. "It was the rock. Now tell, me what color did you see?"
"Red," she answered. "What was it?"
"Your aura," Emmie responded. "Well, part of it. Auras contain a multitude of colors and every person is incredibly diverse. And with so many layers, you're going to get a great deal of variance."
"How come I only saw a flash of it?" she asked, looking down at the rock again and trying to concentrate. Tried as she did, she could not make herself see the flash again.
"You have to be taught to see auras," Emmie informed her knowingly. "This rock helps reflect our auras to those who have not been taught. It amplifies it as best it can, but without proper training, it's nearly impossible to see. That's why you only saw a glimmer of one color for the briefest of moments. Red is your most dominating color. I can see it actually. It swirls around you in such strong wisps."
"What does it mean, red?" she asked, curious.
"Anger," Emmie stated bluntly. "You have a lot of anger in you."
She frowned, looking down at herself though it was pointless. She saw no wispy red around her. "I don't feel angry."
Emmie laughed, sounding a little patronizing. "It's deep inside you, dear, trying to claw its way out. Anger like that can be dangerous. You must be careful to let it out at the right time."
"I got any other fun colors?" she asked moodily.
"I see green intertwined with the red," Emmie told her.
"Am I in tune with nature or something?" she questioned.
"More like low self-esteem," Emmie replied.
"Wonderful," she muttered under her breath, followed by a more audible, "Anything else I should know about?"
"There are some specks of blue," Emmie noted carefully, eyeing Beth.
"Should I even hope for something good?"
"It's a dark blue, for fear," Emmie said with a sigh. "Are you afraid of something? Yourself, perhaps?" Emmie's innocent eyes blinked at Beth, awaiting a response.
"You know what," she forced out, "I just remembered I told a friend I was going to meet her for lunch. I have to go." She carelessly tossed the rock back at Emmie who caught it clumsily. With a swift turn on her heel, she was walking away from Emmie and her stupid reach-past-your-barriers-and-bear-your-soul rock and aura reading.
As she breezed past Willow and Esme, her aunt called out, "Bethie, where are you going?"
"I told Nadja we were going to meet up for lunch," she replied, throwing open the door to the magic shop and striding down the sidewalk. Finally, that incense was out of her nostrils and head and she could think clearly. And her first clear thought was that she was keeping a good five-mile radius between herself and anyone that claimed to read auras.
-.-
The front door clicked shut as the red-headed witch and dark-haired gyspy left. Imogene exhaled loudly, happy to have them gone. She tossed the rock from hand to hand absentmindedly. What a brat was all Imogene could think, a slight snarl of her face. A stupid, little self-righteous brat. As if she wouldn't realize the girl knocked over the urn on purpose. But she did her job, that Imogene knew. The brat was definitely a bit shaken over the aura reading, a skill she never thought would ever come in handy.
This was going to be no easy feat, and she hoped Baba recognized that, instead of demanding that she work faster. Her whole plan was a very delicate situation that involved careful, steady hands and spending all of one's free time in a dank cave tended to make a person forget that.
She dropped the rock on the counter before making her way into the back room. The smell of decay was worse in here, as the incense didn't seem to cover as much in close proximity to the body. She tutted at the still corpse of the dead shopkeeper. Despite working around powerful magicks, he sure fell for her disguise easily. Didn't he know a dark witch when he saw one? Whatever, it didn't matter. Now, if only she could get rid of the smell! She would just dump it in the landfill and begone with it once and for all, but with a slayer running loose in town, she didn't want to think about the consequences of being caught dumping a dead man. Besides, the incense worked well enough for now.
She kicked the dead body out of her path and wove between the shelves until she reached the black trunk in back. There was no key, only words she could utter to unlock the latch. She muttered the incantation and the box clicked open. She crouched down and lifted the lid, peering inside.
The trunk was home to black magic paraphernalia, guarded strongly by a diffusion charm to make its dark presence less noticeable. Anyone who walked into the store and felt its presence would most likely attribute it to artefacts of the store. So far it seemed to be working. Even with one of the most powerful witches in her store just now, the woman didn't even seem to flinch. Of course, that might have also been due to the sight of the pretty Kalder woman. Imogene didn't judge.
"Now that we've become acquainted," she murmured to herself, eyes glancing over the trunk's contents, "what exactly are we going to do with you?"
-.-
"Do you think I'm angry?" Beth asked Nadja as they were sitting on Nadja's back porch. The fire pit provided some warmth in the cold November evening as they sat huddled in thick blankets roasting marshmallows. Well, Nadja did and Beth tried. Hers kept catching fire.
"Everyone's a little bit angry," Nadja responded. "Anything in particular you're angry about? I know there's this girl in my English class that keeps volunteering to read aloud and she…reads…like…this and that makes me angry."
She smiled. "No, but I was at the magic shop with my aunt a while ago and I got my aura read."
"I didn't know Alfonso reads auras," Nadja replied, surprised.
"No, it was a woman. His daughter, I think. Anyway, she read my aura and apparently its very red," Beth told her.
"Well, like I said, everyone is a little bit angry."
"But she said it was my most dominant color," she added.
"Well, there's two side to auras: positive and negative," Nadja began. "I'm guessing red can mean anger, since you're asking if you're an angry person. And I'm sure you have reason to be. Maybe you feel a bit resentful towards the way you were treated at the academy. Wait, scratch that, you are. With the treatment you received there, why wouldn't you be resentful and angry and maybe even fantasize about scratching their eyes out? Perfectly normal, I'd say. But red is also associated with good things too. For example, red is associated with love."
"I'm not in love," she stated.
"No, that's why it was only an example," Nadja told her snidely. "Red also is associated with power. You may not have realized this, but you are incredibly powerful. Maybe that's why you're so red."
"But what if it's linked to my vampirism?" she asked quietly.
Nadja thought for a moment. "I don't think vampires are really angry," she finally decided. "I've seen them joyful over the chance of killing, but not really angry. They're said to be free from society and all its rules, so what have they got to be angry about? Maybe you're red because you're angry about being part-vampire, but that's still you, not the vampire."
"But what if it is?" she asked again.
"And what if it isn't?" Nadja asked in return. "This lady said a lot of things that scared you. But no one knows you better than yourself, alright? Just because red is your most dominating color does not mean you don't have any others."
"She said I also had blue for fear of myself and green for low self-esteem," Beth informed her.
"Sounds like she went in for the kill," Nadja muttered before continuing on more clearly, "Again, colors of auras are both positive and negative. Any well-versed aura reader knows this. She sounds like someone who went online to figure out what the colors meant, judging by the results she gave you. I'd take what she'd said with a grain of salt if I were you."
She tried for a weak smile. "You're just trying to make me feel better, aren't you?"
"Well, consider it counterbalancing," Nadja began. "It sounds like so many people have told you terrible, negative things and now I'm only trying to even the field by building you up. You are afraid of who you are, Beth, don't pretend like nobody knows that. You're a pretty awesome person, you know, with all your super strength and stuff."
She pulled her blanket more tightly around her. As the sun set, it was only getting colder. Pretty soon snow would be falling. Many of the trees were already bare, save the evergreens, which would look dark against the coming snowfall. She sighed. She didn't like that all the colors that got to swirl around her were unhappy colors. She could only wonder what other aura readers thought of her when they saw her and her little depressing aura fog. She didn't want to be angry. She was afraid of what that anger meant. Vampires fed off their humanly anger, leading many of them to go after family and friends with whom they held resentment towards after they first changed. And if that anger inside of her became strong enough, would it overrun her human nature? Would she go after people in order to exact revenge? Nadja didn't seem to be concerned with such a possibility, but she didn't know vampires like Beth did. Like she said, the only person who knew Beth the best was Beth herself.
"Back to anger again, something else is also making me angry. You keep burning your marshmallows. How is it that you are so bad at this?" Nadja asked.
She grinned. "Skill, I suppose."