Nora's POV
"This is supposed to be a bar?" I question, surveying the crowded parking lot. Groups of people cluster outside, smoking and chatting, all wearing the standard hunter uniform of denim and flannel.
"Yeah, it's called The Compass. They've got locations scattered across the country," Brent explains, maneuvering his truck into a parking space.
"What would happen if a regular person wandered in here by accident?"
"They'd get an overwhelming urge to leave," he answers, shutting off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt. "That's assuming they could even locate this place to begin with."
"It's magically concealed?"
He confirms with a nod.
"Seriously?" My eyebrows shoot up. "You people hunt down witches, claiming we're monsters, yet you're perfectly fine using magic to hide your exclusive hunter hideouts?"
"I realize how hypocritical that sounds."
"It's completely fucked up!" Magical energy crackles along my fingertips.
