Against Better Judgment

I follow the receptionist through the salon, my boots clicking softly across polished black tile. The deeper we go, the stranger the place becomes. What looked like an upscale salon from the front unfolds into something far larger than the building should physically contain. Crystal chandeliers hang overhead.

Ornate mirrors line the walls. Shelves overflow with powders, oils, perfumes, dried flowers, and things I am fairly certain are not flowers. Lavender mingles with sandalwood and jasmine. Beneath it all lingers the faint metallic scent of old magic. Every instinct I possess tells me this place is enchanted. The receptionist leads me into a circular chamber at the center of the salon.

Seven women are waiting for me around an enormous barber chair that dominates the room. Every one of them is beautiful. Every one of them is supernatural. Every one of them is looking directly at me. "Well," I mutter. "This feels perfectly normal."A ripple of laughter moves through the room.

The tallest woman rises first and offers me a hand. Dark curls frame an elegant face, and a crimson gown drapes around her like she stepped out of a century-old portrait. "Countess Valeria Voss," she says. I recognize the name immediately. Valeria is a Vampiress, although most people know her as a collector, patron of the arts, and occasional socialite. She has spent centuries cultivating influence among both humans and monsters, and despite the rumors that follow her everywhere, she has a reputation for impeccable manners. "Please," she says with a smile. "Call me Valeria."

The next woman uncurls gracefully from a chaise lounge. Golden scales shimmer across her arms and shoulders, and the lower half of her body disappears into elegant serpentine coils. "Drusilla Viperis." Lamias are rare outside the Mediterranean and North Africa, but their reputation is legendary. Part enchantress, part philosopher, and part predator, they are known for collecting knowledge almost as enthusiastically as they collect admirers. Drusilla gives me a polite nod before settling comfortably back onto her couch.

A slender woman dressed in crimson silk inclines her head next. A yellow talisman hangs over one eye, and her movements possess the careful precision of someone who never wastes effort. "Madame Xiu Lian." Jiangshi are a Chinese form of revenant, although Xiu has spent so much time among the living that she carries herself more like an artist than a corpse. Her salon is famous in certain circles, and her reputation as a beautician borders on mythical.

A woman with turquoise hair waves lazily from a nearby counter without bothering to stand. "Nessa Tidewater." Nixies are water spirits, although Nessa looks more like someone who spent too much time at the beach than a creature from folklore. They are known for their affinity with emotions, dreams, rivers, and lakes, and judging by the relaxed grin on her face, Nessa appears determined to enjoy every second of her existence.

Nearby, a blonde woman lounges in a velvet chair and offers a dazzling smile. "Marina Song." Sirens have acquired an unfortunate reputation over the centuries, but most are singers, performers, and artists long before they are monsters. Marina carries herself like someone accustomed to an audience, and even speaking normally, her voice has the polished warmth of a professional vocalist.

The sixth woman spins an ornate hand mirror between her fingers. Fox ears twitch atop her head, and several tails sway lazily behind her. "Reina Kurogane." Kitsune are tricksters by nature, but they are also storytellers, entertainers, and collectors of secrets. Reina's amused grin suggests she has accumulated a great many of all three.

The final woman emerges from the shadows carrying a pair of silver scissors. Wild hair frames a narrow face, and her smile is equal parts mischievous and unsettling. "Callista Thorn." Empusae are shape-shifting enchantment spirits from Greek folklore, famous for temptation, illusion, and vanity. Callista looks exactly like the sort of woman who would spend three hours discussing hairstyles and somehow win the argument.

The seven women exchange amused glances before turning their attention back to me. For the first time since entering the room, the atmosphere feels less like a gathering of monsters and more like a group of old friends sharing a private joke. Valeria gestures toward the enormous barber chair. "Please, Jezebel. Have a seat."

I look from face to face. Valeria smiles warmly. Marina looks amused. Nessa seems more interested in her manicure than anything happening in the room. Even Callista's unsettling grin somehow feels playful rather than threatening. They do not look like predators circling prey.

They look like women sharing a private space that the rest of the world would never understand. For the first time since stepping through the front door, I feel the tension leaving my shoulders. Maybe it is the atmosphere. Maybe it is the salon itself. Maybe it is the combined presence of so many enchantment creatures in one room.

Whatever the reason, the warning bells that had been screaming in my head since I arrived have faded to a distant murmur. The chair suddenly does not seem threatening at all. It seems inviting. Comfortable, even. Against my better judgment, and perhaps not entirely under the influence of my own better judgment anymore, I take a step forward and sit.