Freed-wrecking havoc | Silas's Sister

9

The streets of New Orleans buzzed with life, each corner exuding a heady mix of music, magic, and mischief. Scarlynn sauntered through the vibrant chaos, her sharp gaze absorbing everything around her. She had always been drawn to cities like this, where the energy was palpable and the darkness wasn't hidden but celebrated.

As she rounded a corner, she caught sight of a woman standing outside a small, eclectic shop, her arms crossed and an expression of mild irritation on her face. She was striking-long, wavy chestnut hair that framed a heart-shaped face, olive-toned skin glowing under the streetlights, and hazel eyes that seemed to gleam with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

"Are you lost, or are you just casing the place?" the woman called out, her voice tinged with humor but carrying an edge of caution.

Scarlynn smirked, tilting her head slightly. "Depends. Are you about to offer directions or accuse me of breaking and entering?"

The woman pushed off the wall, her stance relaxed but far from unguarded. "Neither. I'm just wondering why someone with your... aura is loitering in my neighborhood."

"Aura?" Scarlynn echoed, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Big, bad, and scary. Screams, 'Don't mess with me, or I'll ruin your life,'" the woman replied, her lips twitching into a grin.

Scarlynn chuckled, genuinely amused. "Accurate. And you are?"

"Someone who doesn't scare easily," the woman shot back, extending a hand. "Andrea Venezella. Witch, local troublemaker, and occasional babysitter for supernatural idiots."

"Scarlett," Scarlynn replied smoothly, shaking her hand.

Andrea's eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze lingering as if trying to peel back layers. "Scarlett, huh? Cute. But I get the feeling that's not the name people whisper about in fear."

Scarlynn's smirk deepened, her eyes gleaming. "Careful, Andrea. Prying into people's secrets is a dangerous habit."

"And yet here you are, practically dripping with mystery," Andrea countered, her grin widening.

Scarlynn laughed softly, appreciating the witch's sharp tongue. "Fair enough. So, Andrea, what's a fearless witch like you doing out here alone?"

Andrea gestured toward the shop behind her. "Just picking up a few supplies. You'd be amazed at how often I have to patch up idiots who think they're invincible."

"Sounds tedious," Scarlynn remarked, her tone dry.

Andrea shrugged. "It pays the bills. So, what brings you to New Orleans? Let me guess-sightseeing?"

"Something like that," Scarlynn replied cryptically.

Andrea tilted her head, studying her. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Scarlynn quipped.

"So," Andrea said, glancing sideways at Scarlynn, "are you actually here to sightsee, or are you just here to stir up trouble?"

"Can't it be both?" Scarlynn replied, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

Andrea laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "I think I'm going to like you."

"Most people do," Scarlynn said breezily.

As they rounded a corner, a sudden commotion drew their attention. In the shadows of an alleyway, a man was hunched over another figure, the metallic scent of blood thick in the air.

"Well, this just got interesting," Andrea muttered.

Scarlynn's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Let's go say hello."