20. The Girl Who Brings the Weather #3
Adrienne tapped through to the Persuasion category.
“Oh, this is excellent. Look at these names. ‘Irresistible Argument Hex.’ ‘Make Them Say Yes—Guaranteed Results.’ Wasting Curse (Fast-Acting).” She scrolled, grinning.
“They are really committing to the bit, I have to say. And reviews! There are ratings here too.”
Adrienne kept scrolling, clearly enjoying herself. “You know how many apps promise you’ll lose weight, get rich, find true love, all with one simple trick? This is the same, but with a witchy vibe.”
“Adrienne, please,” Luna said, hearing the desperation in her own voice. “Just look at the interface. The design. Someone put serious work into this.”
“Scammers always do.” Adrienne was clearly warming to her theme now. “That’s how you know it’s a scam—when something looks too professional. Real magic is messy. It’s complicated. You can’t just . . .” she made a swiping gesture with her free hand “. . . point and click your way to ultimate power.”
“But what if you can?” asked Elias. “What if Vex figured it out?”
Adrienne looked up from her phone, her expression kind but firm.
“Kids, I know you want to believe you’ve uncovered some big conspiracy.
I get it. It’s exciting. But in my experience, the simple explanation is usually correct.
This is a cash grab. I’ll bet you anything Vex is planning to harvest user data and sell it. Tale as old as time.”
“We saw the demonstration,” Luna insisted. “We were there—”
Adrienne went back to scrolling. “Stage magic usually is. Wait, here’s another category.
‘Romance & Relationships.’ Oh, this is my favorite kind of scam.
Prey on the lonely and desperate.” She tapped through, and Luna could see her trying not to laugh.
“‘Charming Glamour (1920s Edition). Make yourself irresistible with authentic Jazz Age appeal.’ Who writes this copy?”
“Adrienne—” Hector’s voice held a warning note, but Adrienne was on a roll now.
“No, no, this is perfect. Look at this description: ‘Transport yourself and your romantic interest to a lost era of sophistication.’ That’s not a spell, that’s a theme restaurant in Williamsburg.”
More laughter now, and Luna felt the moment slipping away completely. They’d lost. The coven had decided CastR was a joke, and nothing she or Elias said would convince them otherwise.
Adrienne squinted at her screen. “Oh, and it’s got a ‘Try It Now’ button. Of course it does. Probably opens a payment portal or asks for your credit card.” She tapped the screen. “Okay, Mr. Vex, let’s see what kind of—wait.” Her expression changed, just slightly. “Huh.”
“What?” Diego asked.
“It’s asking for my location.” Adrienne frowned at the phone. “And access to my contacts. And my camera. And—Jesus, it wants access to everything except my dental records.” She looked up, her amusement fading slightly. “That’s actually pretty aggressive for a scam app. Usually they ease you into—”
The phone buzzed in her hand.
“Huh. It says ‘Preparing Your Glamour Experience.’ That’s new.” Adrienne tapped the screen again, and Luna saw her finger slip. Just a tiny flinch and then, “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to—”
The wards around Track 61 began to thrum. A low, resonant hum that Luna felt in her teeth, her bones, the roots of her hair. The tiles started to glow—first just a faint shimmer, then brighter, like someone was turning up a dimmer switch on the entire tunnel.
“Adrienne, what did you—” Hector started.
“I didn’t mean to activate it!” Adrienne’s voice pitched with alarm. “I was just trying to see the details—”
The light intensified, and Luna heard Diego shout something—a warning, maybe, or a counterspell—but his voice seemed to come from very far away. The tiles were blazing now, each one a perfect mirror reflecting not the coven’s sanctum but something else entirely.
Luna tried to stand, to move toward the twins, toward help, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Beside her, Elias had gone rigid, his hand tightening around hers almost painfully.
“Luna—” he started.
The world lurched.
When Luna’s vision cleared, she was no longer standing in the vintage subway car.
The smell hit her first: brine and oysters, gin and cigarette smoke, the sharp ozone scent of magic gone sideways. Then the sound: music, jazz piano, the clink of glasses.
She was standing in the Grand Central Oyster Bar, except it wasn’t the Oyster Bar as it existed in 2026.
This version was all warm amber light and art-deco glamour, the curved ceiling soaring overhead like a cathedral to decadence.
Small round tables dotted the space, each one topped with a white tablecloth and a single candle in a glass hurricane.
A player piano sat in the corner, coaxing something complicated from the keys—was that “Anything Goes”?
The bar itself gleamed with fresh polish, bottles arranged in precise rows that would’ve made a geometry teacher weep with joy.
The room was completely empty except for Luna and Elias.
He stood a few feet away, looking as disoriented on the outside as she was on the inside. His gaze swept the room once, twice, then settled on her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.
“Well . . .” She could hear him working to keep his voice steady. “This is unexpected.”