While William was chatting with Milagros and Letecia, he didn't notice Kemar, Max, and Grace sneaking up behind him.
"Well, well," Grace drawled with a teasing smile, her eyes flicking between the two won. "You're not wasting any ti, huh? New friends?"
"Dude," Max let out a low whistle and clapped William on the shoulder, "Did you win the lottery or sothing? Two beauties at once!"
Kemar scratched the back of his neck, glancing toward a free table.
"Uh, maybe we should sit sowhere else? Y'know… not crash whatever's going on here?"
"Haha, no, it's fine," William replied tightly, forcing a smile though irritation knotted in his chest. "They were just about to leave... right, ladies?"
His glance toward Milagros and Letecia carried all the subtlety of a flare gun — ti to go before things get worse.
But instead of taking the hint, both won seed even more invigorated by the sudden company.
"Now, William," Letecia said softly, her chin tilting upward with perfect poise, a coquettish glimr dancing at the corners of her mouth. "Ain't that a mighty rude way of introducin' us? We haven't even t your friends proper yet."
She reached out a graceful hand toward Grace.
"My na's Letecia," she said, her voice lilting with a sweet Louisiana warmth. "And this here's my dear friend, Milagros."
Milagros only gave a curt nod — polite, but detached — her dark eyes scanning the newcors with quiet, aloof curiosity.
"Will, man, you seriously gotta work on your manners," Max chuckled. "You can't just keep all the girls to yourself. Share a little, huh?"
A flicker of anger flashed in William's eyes; he shot Max a look sharp enough to kill.
You idiots. You have no idea who you're flirting with — I'm trying to save your lives.
Out loud, he said only,
"Right... sorry. My bad." He gestured between them. "Everyone, this is Letecia and Milagros. Ladies — Grace, Max, and Kemar."
"Pleasure to et you," Grace said brightly, shaking Letecia's hand.
"Why, sugar, the pleasure's all mine," Letecia purred, holding Grace's gaze a beat too long.
They all sat down together. Deliberately — or by design — Letecia and Milagros took the seats on either side of William. He caught a whiff of warm perfu and exhaled, silently thinking: This is exactly what I was trying to avoid.
"So, how did you all et?" Kemar asked casually, exchanging a curious glance with Max and Grace.
"Oh, it's quite the story," Letecia began, her accent thickening just a hint, her words slow and satin-smooth. "You could say fate brought us together."
"Fate, huh?" Max smirked. "That sounds suspiciously romantic."
Letecia leaned closer, and the air around her seed to carry the sultry blend of spice and night-blooming flowers. Her gaze drifted toward Grace.
"Grace, honey," she said in a low, velvety tone, "you got yourself the most peculiar kind of aura. Tell , you believe in a little sothin' beyond this world? Spirit talk and such?"
"Aura?" Grace blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Or do you just an my shirt?" She laughed, pointing to the slogan stretched across it: My coven ets at three.
Letecia chuckled softly. "Maybe a lil' bit o' both, darlin'. But I can feel sothin' in you. There's an energy... sothin' special."
Her voice dropped lower, almost like a purr that humd just beneath the café chatter.
William stiffened. His pulse picked up, hands curling into fists beneath the table.
"If you'd like," Letecia continued, her tone silk and smoke, "I could give you my address. We could talk — about things most folks wouldn't quite understand."
"Ooh, mysterious," Grace grinned, clearly amused and utterly oblivious to the subtle danger lacing the words.
Milagros turned to William, the faintest of smirks tugging at her lips. Her dark eyes locked with his, wordlessly taunting — Your move, hero. Let's see how you get out of this one.
William took a slow breath, every nerve on edge. More than anything, he wished he could just vanish — dissolve into thin air — before this strange, tangled mont spiraled into sothing far, far worse.
"Hold up a sec," Max said suddenly, narrowing his eyes like he was just putting the pieces together. "Wait a minute—you're that guru girl from the rooftop crowd, aren't you? I knew I recognized you! I talked to you, like, five tis. Don't tell you forgot!"
Letecia smiled — slow and knowing, the kind of smile a cat gives a bird it's already caught.
"Well now, sugar," she drawled, her voice honey-sweet and warm, "maybe you did co by. But bless your heart, I surely don't recall that li'l detail."
Max's grin froze, then slid away entirely. It was like soone had slapped him with a cold rag.
Great, he thought bitterly. Nothing like getting humiliated by a witch in front of your friends.
He had gone to those rooftop "spiritual gatherings" plenty of tis — cheap wine, clouds of incense, girls humming to an out-of-tune guitar. Up there, under the city lights, he used to feel… free. Now, standing before Letecia's amused gaze, he just felt like a fool.
"So wait—Will," he said quickly, forcing a laugh to cover his embarrassnt, "you did end up going to one of those rooftop enlightennt things after all?"
"Ha… yeah," William muttered, eyes fixed on the table. "Just out of curiosity. That's… kinda how we t."
Grace spun to look at him, incredulous. "You went to those rooftop druggies?"
"Now, now, hold on just a mont," Letecia interrupted with a voice soft enough to hush a storm. She leaned in slightly, her accent smoothing every word like velvet. "Ain't no need to use ugly words, darlin'. Those are just young souls lookin' for anin' in a world that don't always make sense. That ain't no cri, sugar, now is it?"
Her tone was calm, hypnotic — her eyes glead with a gentle light that pulled attention without demanding it.
"Ain't nobody up there doin' nothin' terrible," she went on, with a shrug that sohow felt intimate. "Just a lil' herb to ease the mind, help you clear the noise. That's all."
"Grace, seriously," William said quickly, "I didn't smoke anything. I just… listened for a while."
Kemar snorted and took a sip of his Coke. "Big deal. It's just weed. Who hasn't tried it?"
"Kemar!" Grace snapped, then turned a sharp look on William. "Still, you shouldn't even be mixed up in that kind of thing. Don't start turning into him."
"Hey, hey," Max protested, throwing his hands up. "What did I do? I just go there to hang out, et people — and, okay, maybe so really cute girls. That's it!"
Letecia watched the exchange with lazy amusent, the kind of patience that cos from knowing you're the one quietly steering the current. Her lips curved into a faint smile — a subtle promise to herself. She thrived in little cracks like this, where tension started to splinter trust.
"Now, y'all," she said at last, her tone shifting to that of a calm teacher ending a classroom squabble, "let's not get all riled up. It's all much simpler than it sounds."
Under the table, her hand brushed against William's leg — light, almost tender, but laced with sothing magnetic and dangerous.
"William and I," she continued sweetly, "have t only a few tis. No 'drugs,' no funny business — just talkin', breathin' work, a lil' spiritual unfoldin', you might say."
William froze at her touch.
And then — sothing surged inside him. Like a spark jumping between synapses.
A voice, feminine and stern, ignited in his mind.
"Will, I'd advise you not to let your lamia lure that girl in. She'll drain her dry before you can blink."
He jerked his head toward Milagros. She sat perfectly still, as if nothing had happened. Only the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth hinted she was aware.
"Our connection's active already?" he thought, stunned. "How can you talk to like this?"
Milagros' eyes didn't move, but he caught the barest nod.
"Almost active. My power lets slip into your thoughts. You can't answer back yet — not properly. But you'll learn. For now, do one thing: keep Grace from going with her. If she accepts, Letecia'll drain her energy completely."
"You're serious—?" he started to think, but the flash in Milagros's gaze silenced him instantly. No ti for disbelief.
Across the table, Grace was already laughing. "Maybe I should co up to the roof soti — see what all the fuss is about. Figure out if you're all druggies or just plain weirdos."
Letecia's smile blood, slow and sultry as a magnolia opening under moonlight.
"Oh, honey, you should co. I've got a feelin' you'd take to it right quick. We could sure use a tender, open spirit like yours."
That did it.
William shot up so fast his chair scraped harshly against the floor.
"Alright—party's over," he said tightly. "We're done here. Let's go."
Max blinked, puzzled.
"Whoa, where are you off to, man? We just sat down."
"Yeah, well… I've got things to take care of," William cut him off, his tone clipped. Without waiting for objections, he grabbed Letecia's hand. "Co on, Letecia. We really need to go."
She looked at him with mild surprise, then turned that sa gentle gaze toward the others.
"Well now," she purred, smiling faintly, "if the host of the party insists…"
They'd nearly reached the door — William even felt the faint chill of air drifting in from the hallway — when a voice called from behind.
"Hey, Will!" Kemar pushed back his chair halfway. "Oh, almost forgot — that exchange professor, the one from Arkham, he's here already. Think he's hanging around near the dean's office. You might wanna check it out — people say he's kind of… eccentric."
William stopped mid-step, half-turned, eyebrows rising.
"From Arkham? Seriously? He's already here?"
There was a note of intrigue in his voice — even excitent. A visiting professor from Arkham, that old, mysterious place whispered about in academic circles — its libraries, its sealed archives, its quietly unhinged scholars… That was sothing.
But before he could say another word, sothing shifted beside him.
Letecia — warm, animated, playful Letecia — went utterly still. The life seed to drain out of her body in a single breath. Her smile faded, her hand went slack, falling from William's grasp. For a heartbeat, she was a statue carved from porcelain and tension.
"'Scuse …" Her voice now was flat, quiet — like it was coming from far away. "Did you say… a professor from Arkham?"
Kemar blinked, thrown off by her sudden change in tone.
"Uh, yeah? That's what I heard. Is there a problem?"
The golden light that usually shimred in Letecia's eyes was gone — replaced by a murky darkness that made her gaze look almost empty. She lifted her chin just slightly, as if trying to hold her expression together.
"Oh… no, sugar. Nothin' like that," she said softly, forcing a paper-thin smile. "Just a strange lil' coincidence, that's all."
Her eyes flickered to William. "We oughta be goin', darlin', don't you think?"
William frowned, noting the way her voice trembled at the edge.
"Letecia… are you okay? You know this professor or sothing?"
She shook her head — too quickly. Her gaze darted aside, refusing to et his.
"No, honey. Don't know him. Don't wanna know him neither. Now co on, Will. Please."
Her hand found his again — this ti sharply, almost desperate. Without another glance back, she pulled him toward the door with quick, purposeful strides.
Max let out a low chuckle as they disappeared down the corridor, but Grace didn't laugh. Her brows furrowed slightly as she watched them go — there was sothing off about Letecia now, sothing brittle under all that charm.
Out in the hallway, the air was cooler, the hum of distant voices fading behind them until the silence seed to press against William's ears. He glanced at Letecia — the set of her shoulders, the tight line of her lips — she looked nothing like the breezy woman he'd first t.
"Letecia," he said quietly, his voice echoing faintly off the walls. "You know sothing. Why did that na — Arkham — shake you up like that?"
She stopped beside the wall and turned to him. For a mont, her gaze softened, but underneath, sothing sharp flickered — a glint of fear or fury, he couldn't tell which.
"Sugar," she whispered, her voice lower now, shaded with that smooth Cajun lilt, "sotis it's best not to know who's comin' outta places like that." Her eyes glead — dark honey in dim light. "'Cause when you do find out, you might wish you hadn't heard a damn word."
Then, as if slipping on a mask, she smiled again — too fast, too bright.
"Now c'mon, chéri. This hallway's crawlin' with ears that don't belong to us."
She tugged him along before he could protest, her grip firm, her steps urgent and silent.
And as they disappeared into the echoing corridor, William couldn't help but feel it — a word like Arkham wasn't just a na anymore. It was a warning bell, faint but unmistakable, tolling sowhere in the dark.
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