33. It's Levels To The Game

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*New chapters posted today: 32 and 33. NOLA map below.

Enter to the Zetish Underworld [Part 2 of 5]

The driver's door squeaks open, creating an eeriness that matches the Zetish infused in the limo. We listen for familiar sounds like people talking, a street band performing, or just random shit you hear on the streets.

However, all I hear are the driver's footsteps approaching our side of the door, my sisters breathing, and a faint buzzing noise. Odd.

"Junie, think of the bigger picture," adds Aunt BeeBee, responding to her comment.

In one loud click, the limo door unlocks its possessive hold, followed by me immediately reaching over to open it, but when I do, the door swings open. We sit still, wondering if it's a good idea to exit the car. That's crazy, right, after everything. 

After fifteen unbearable seconds, someone on the outside taps their foot on the ground, I assume that's the cue to get the hell out.

When we don't move, the driver with the tiger tattoo leans in front of the door, smirks, and utters, "Follow me."

"Follow her, really!" whispers Faylayee. "Oh yes, because the ride went so freaking well!" And although she's on edge, frantic, and having a mini panic attack, she has a point.

A brisk wind whisks across my face as we step out of the limo, absorbing the spooky scene, the magic, and energy in the atmosphere. It's not a warm-welcoming vibe, but more so a mix between soul magic and Zetish. It's strange too, feeling two different magical sources existing together.

"Where are we?" I ask the driver, stomach twisting into a thousand knots due to the Zetish.

I've never seen this street, however, the French style buildings are similar to the ones near Cafe Du Monde. There's also a shop painted in yellow with dark windows and a vertical banner titled, 'Tattoo,' swinging above the door. 

The tiger tatted woman glances at me. "You're at one of the many checkpoints in the city."

"Checkpoints?" I peek over my shoulders, sensing a presence, wondering if a certain someone with a talent for showing up when you least expect it, followed us. Meaning could it be Detective Cree or the Photo-stalker lurking in the area? Hopefully, it's Cree. Wait, what am I saying? 

"Yes." The driver walks up to the Tattoo shop before opening the door. "Once you confirm the deal, you'll have access to the Zetish Underworld."

Confirm the deal? First, we had to consent in the limo, after they locked the door on us, and now they want more confirmation. What else do they need? A signed contract? Blood? Oh damn, I hope not, blood makes me queasy. And needles.

Aunt BeeBee steps forward. "We don't want access. We want a meeting with Miss Etienne Le'Rue. That's it."

The driver opens the tattoo shop door. "And your chance to meet her is through us. It's the new way, her way..."   

A chance? I have a sinking feeling we're stepping out of the fire and into a burning hot stream of lava. But that's life. Right? A roll of the dice and leave it up to chance. The question is how many chances do we have left?

Instead of explaining further, the driver waves her hand, signaling us to step inside and follow her. Should we go in?

No, turn around and text Zion back.

Yes, do it, Yanni.

My sisters and I walk through the tattoo shop ignoring our fight-or-flight responses, Spidey senses, and our woman's intuition. The lower level witches/warlocks in the shop watch us, I assume, questioning how a couple of Witches like us end up in a place like this.

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