Framed Part Two

So, this is the place.

Standing on the edge of the sidewalk with his hands on his hips, Frederick took in the quaint little shop with a curious eye. It reminded him of a cottage, smoking chimney and all. And was entirely out of place squished between the two office buildings.

Ivy had overtaken the entire storefront to the point none of the walls were visible. He couldn't even see the windows; if there were any to begin with that is. Hanging above the door was the shop sign, which happened to be an exact replica of the logo on the candy wrapper Cherri had found.

Frederick turned his ear to the door. He could make out the faint sound of shuffling feet, and then the brass door handle jiggled. The door swung open and a myriad of scents spilled out into the street to assault his senses: herbs, dirt, flowers, and underneath all that was - What was that?

Frederick sucked in a deep breath. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and a low growl shook his ribcage. That is… Wow! The scent was unlike anything he'd ever encountered before. It was tantalizing...Delectable. It tasted like pure heat on his tongue. An ache pulsed at the roots of his fangs as saliva flooded his mouth. He needed to sink his fangs into something. Anything. Preferably into the thing emanating that scent.

Frederick shook his head vigorously. Pull it together, man, he berated himself.

He took another breath to try and calm his more animalistic half, clear his head, but the scent scorched his tongue and blistered its way down his throat. Frederick spun around to face the street and get ahold of himself. Lifting the collar of his coat over his nose, he took deep, shuddering breaths of his own scent. The tasteless smell soothed the fire in his throat to a level that was a little more bearable. With a clearer head, Frederick took in one last pull of pure, scentless air for good measure, and steeled himself to turn back around.

Holding his breath for the moment, Frederick dropped the collar of his coat and whirled around to face the store in a single movement. The shop door sat propped open by a potted bush with tiny bluebell flowers sprouting from the leaves spelling out the word ‘welcome’. Off to the right of the door, a woman knelt, arranging puffy, sunshine yellow flowers into the wall of ivy. Each time she tucked the stem of a flower in amongst the leaves, the flower would weave its way around the ivy stems and affix itself firmly into place. He observed her silently as she added the little bursts of color to the sea of green.

She was a waif of a thing really; that oversized sweater nearly swallowed her whole. Her blood red curls were stacked atop her head in a messy bun that was barely being held together by a green scrunchie. And she was barefoot, he noted with surprise. Her toes were pale and the nail beds slightly purple; they had to be freezing. He watched as she picked up the last flower and paused with her hands midair, seeming to consider where to place the last one.

“What kind of flowers are they?” he asked suddenly. The woman jumped, falling back on her butt with an ‘oof’. “Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, stepping forward to help her back onto her feet.

“I-It’s okay, uh,” she shifted to face him, looking up at him from under her lashes. “You just startled me is all.” Her slate grey eyes quickly flitted across his face before looking down at his outstretched hand. “They’re, uh, marigolds,” she said as she took his hand. Her skin was soft and warm, and he briefly noted the array of colors staining her fingertips. “From my sister.” Frederick hauled her to her feet with ease. “Thought they’d look the best at the front of the shop.”

The both of them glanced at her arrangement of flowers on the wall. “I think so, yes,” Frederick agreed.

She shot him a pleased grin before bending to pick up the discarded marigold. “Can I help you with something?” She asked. “Or do you just like to wander up on unsuspecting women and scare the crap out of them?”

Frederick held back his snort. “You the owner of this place?”

“The one and only,” she answered as she placed the last flower in a seemingly random spot.

“Just who I was looking for,” he said. “I’m Detective Frederick Devoe with Chicago P.D.s Paranormal Investigative Unit.” Frederick pulled out his badge and showed it to her. She looked at it, and then him, in surprise. “I’ve got a couple questions for you, if you have the time, miss…?”

She blinked up at him owlishly. “Vivian,” she said slowly. “Vivian Blackwood.”

Frederick flashed her a grin. "It's a pleasure, Miss Blackwood."

Her nose scrunched up in distaste. "Just Vivian, please?"

"Of course," he agreed easily. "Let's head inside then, Vivian." Frederick couldn't help the little instinctual pur as he said her name.

With a hesitant smile, Vivian gestured for him to follow as she made her way back into the shop. Before he stepped through the doorway, Frederick pressed his coat over his nose and took a deep breath. He just hoped this breath lasted the entire time he was inside, but just in case it didn't, he shoved the beast inside of him down to the depths of his very being. He couldn't risk losing control once he was inside and surrounded by that delicious scent.

As he stepped through the door, his feet sunk a bit into the floor and he looked down, confused. Beneath his feet was the most plush bed of grass he'd ever seen. He bounced on his heels a bit, amazed at the springy texture of it. A soft giggle brought his attention to the woman standing a few feet ahead of him.

"Like it?" She asked. "Charmed it myself."

Frederick hummed in the back of his throat. "Impressive. Is it throughout the entire shop?"

Vivian nodded, "Yeah. I like to wander barefoot, so I wanted to walk on something other than tile or hardwood." The both of them glanced down at her feet as she wiggled her toes in the blades of grass.

"Should I take my shoes off too, then?" He asked.

The little witch tilted her head and regarded him curiously, unsure if he was being serious or not. "If you'd like," she answered finally.

Frederick toed off his shoes with a smirk. "So, how long have you owned this shop?" He asked as he placed his shoes against the wall.

"About four years now," she said as she continued through the entryway.

As the two entered onto the main floor of the shop, Frederick took stock of the layout. To their left, lining the walls, were built in oak shelving units that were stuffed full with jars of nasty, unidentifiable things he was probably better off not asking about. At the center of the room, monstrous mushrooms grew in all colors and sizes. The tops of the mushrooms were carved out, so they could easily hold the candies sitting inside of them. Frederick noticed a familiar stack of yellow cinch bags resting inside a mushroom sprouting in the farthest row from them - SunDrops.

On the other side of the shop, sitting on a little grassy hill, was the counter. Behind that counter, on top of it, and all along the ground around it were books upon books stacked precariously on top of one another.

"Your shop is beautiful," Frederick complimented in apparent awe.

"Thank you," Vivian said as she moved behind the counter. "It took a lot of work and power to get it to where it is today."

"I could only imagine." Frederick moved to the front of the counter, and read the spines of the books there as he said, "You're a very talented potioneer. Your SunDrops were a stroke of genius." And he meant it. The candy, as nasty as it was, had changed his entire life; he'd never be stuck in the office ever again.

Vivian made a sound of surprise. "You buy my candy? I've never seen you in here before…"

"I mail order."

Nodding she said, "Ah. Makes sense. Did you come here for that reason? Was something wrong with your order?" As she spoke, Vivian pulled over a thick tomb from a stack on her right and cracked it open.

Frederick shook his head. "No, they're perfect. I've never had an issue." Without waiting for her to say anything more, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his scrying mirror. "However, this man might have. Does he look familiar?" Popping open the lid, Frederick willed the image of their latest victim onto the glass and showed it to Vivian.

He watched her expression closely for any tells, but all he found was concerned confusion. "No. I've never seen him before. Is he okay?" Those big round eyes found his, and a strange flutter tickled the inside of his stomach.

"Unfortunately, no," he said slowly. "He was found dead this morning with this on his person." The image in the mirror shimmered before morphing into one of the candy wrapper they'd found.

"One of my candy wrappers?" She muttered. "I make these, yes, they're sitting over there in the orange mushroom." Vivian gestured over his shoulder. "W-Was something wrong with the candy? I don't understand."

Frederick had to work to keep his facial expression neutral. He was starting to taste that delectable heat on his tongue again, which was bringing the beast that lurked under his skin back to the surface, and it was not particularly thrilled at her distress. As he attempted to beat his other half into submission, he told Vivian, "What killed him was in the candy." It was perhaps a bit too blunt, but there was no easy way to beat around the bush.

"W-What?!" Vivian asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The horror was obvious on her face as she met his eyes once more. "I haven't changed the recipe since it was first created, and all of my ingredients are the best. Bought fresh before each batch is made. What was in the candy?"

Frederick could easily hear the wet, frantic beating of her heart. "We believe the candy to be laced with a particularly nasty love potion." Vivians eyes grew impossibly wide. "It's resulted in multiple suicides." Silence settled heavily between the two at this revelation.

When the silence had stretched on long enough, Frederick asked, "Do you mind if I take a look around the shop, Miss Blackwood?" She flinched at the use of her surname, and his beast surged against its binds at the sight. Frederick ignored it the best he could; he needed to remain professional.

"I, uh," Vivian swallowed loudly and then cleared her throat. "Y-Yes. The potions lab is, uh, behind that shelving unit." She pointed at said shelf, her hand shaking. "Just, uh, swipe your finger over the runes carved into the right side of the center shelf."

Frederick gave her a soft 'thank you' as he tucked away his scrying mirror and turned to face the shop. Making sure he had a firm grip on his beastly other half, Frederick leisurely meandered the floor. He took twice as long as he normally would to investigate a place as he had to stop periodically and clear his head of the heated scent with his own. The front of the shop though, came up clean, so he moved to the shelving unit concealing the lab from him.

"Why don't you join me in here, Miss Blackwood?" The little witch slowly came around the counter and stopped a few feet from his side.

Frederick swept the tip of his index finger down the runes as she had instructed. They flashed a dull gold, and then, with a groan, the entire unit swung backwards. The grass flooring continued inside the lab except for a square patch of cobblestone where a massive black cast-iron cauldron sat over the embers of a fire. A potion the color of lilac bubbled gently inside the cauldron.

"What are you brewing currently?" He asked as he took a sniff. Nope. This wasn't what he was looking for.

"Licorice for the Wicked Whips," she answered from the door.

Frederick gave a hum of acknowledgement before continuing with his search. He opened all the cupboards, peered into the sinks, and even lightly rummaged through the trash. Nothing so far. "Is there any place else you make or store things?" He asked, looking at Vivian.

She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, and a weary expression on her face. "The cooler." She pointed to the only door in the room. "I keep anything that needs to be chilled or kept cold in there."

"Alright," Frederick mumbled. He strode to the door and pulled it open by the handle, a blast of cold air sweeping over him. The cold muted the scents, but he could still distinguish what was what. He explored the cooler just as thoroughly as he had the rest of the place, and nearly left, satisfied with his finding nothing, when a familiar odor touched the back of his tongue. Cherries and cream… Dreading what he knew he would find, Frederick went to the far right corner of the cooler and opened each box to sniff at its contents.

He almost thought he'd imagined it when he happened across a small, unassuming wooden box hidden behind the larger ones. Frederick set the box on his knee and popped open the lid, the smell of cherries and cream increasing by a hundredfold. Inside were seven vials of a shimmering pink liquid. He dipped his thumb into the empty space, and determined a vial was missing.

Frederick felt his shoulders sink in disappointment. This was it; he'd found what he'd been searching for.

The cooler door creaked slightly, and Frederick looked up to find the little witch standing there. Her eyes weren't trained on him, but on the box in his possession. All the blood had drained from her face, and he could hear the painful beating of her heart against her ribcage. Slowly, so as not to startle her, Frederick got to his feet and set the box on a shelf. She looked at him, her eyes bright with confusion and fear.

"I'm sorry, Miss Blackwood," he said quietly as he reached around his back and underneath his coat.

Vivians heart rate kicked up another notch, and she choked on the air she was desperately trying to breathe in. As he brought his hand back around, the metal of his cuffs rattled and clinked together. Her eyes zeroed in on them, easily noticing the runes etched into the metal, and she whimpered. The sound set his beast to snarling. His fingers nearly released the cuffs at his other halfs insistence, but he held strong. This had to happen. He had no other choice.

"Please," she pleaded brokenly as he took a step toward her. "Those vials aren't mine. Don't make me wear those, I can't."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, his tone heavy.

As he took the last few steps toward her, her control shattered and she began to sob. That delicious scent turned sour causing him to gag. All Frederick could do was continue to apologize as he turned her around and snapped the cuffs on her wrists. As the second cuff clicked into place, Vivian wailed. It was the single, most wretched sound he'd ever heard.