Jacob and Liam both nodded.“That’s him,” Jacob said.“That’s why it looked like he might actually have a stroke or heart attack when Liam scared him.”
Isaac did not like the way the color was draining from Ursula’s face.“What is it?”he asked.
“I know that law firm, Jameson and Sons,” Ursula said slowly as she placed her tea cup back on the table.“Because that lawyer is Karl Jameson and he works for the people who own this building, which includes my apartment on the top floor, Fated Ink,” she looked over at where Saffron sat on his lap, “your apartment, Saffie, and this rooftop.”
Willow whistled low.“Wow, that has to have a hefty old valuation, huh?”
Isaac nodded.“Yeah, this close to downtown, I would argue it would be over a hundred million, easy.”
Willow leaned even more forward in her chair.“And from what you overheard, he’s looking for documents pertaining to land titles, and an old will.And he needs to get them filed.”
Liam nodded.“Yeah, so what if the Council torched an entire building to clean up that paperwork?Maybe they don’t want those papers filed.That’s some next-level crazy.”
Ursula’s eyes narrowed.“It means they’re desperate.Whatever that man found in those documents, it shook them badly enough to risk exposure.”
Isaac tightened his hold on Saffron, his voice steady but grim.“Then we’re already in the middle of it.This wasn’t random.It wasn’t chance.They lit that fire because of what this place represents.Because of us.”
Brielle, quiet until now, set her glass down with trembling hands.“Then we don’t just fight to protect ourselves.We fight to protect this ground.If they wanted to wipe something out connected to this place, we’d better find out what it was.”
A murmur of agreement circled the group, the tension breaking for just a moment as they acknowledged the truth of her words.Nolan raised his glass in a mock toast, muttering, “To protecting our rooftop.”
Liam chuckled, Jacob added a dry, “And terrifying lawyers,” which drew a laugh even from Ursula.But as the laughter faded, the mood sobered again.The Council wasn’t playing games, and their circle could no longer treat this as chance.The conclusion was clear—this was a battle line being drawn, and they were already standing on it.
Nolan sighed, leaning back, his eyes on Saffron.“We felt you tonight.”his gaze swept the women in the room “All of you.You know that, right?”
“Of course you did,” Saffron shot back, lips curving into a tired grin.“When we get our Wicca on, we’re fucking awesome.”
Isaac felt the others laugh, the sound a balm against the fear still gnawing at him.But beneath the humor, the truth burned clear.The Council had just made it personal.
The rooftop fell silent again, the night wind cold around them, but the bond between them thrummed, steady and strong.For the first time since the fire, Isaac felt something like hope—hard and sharp, but real.Whatever the Council thought they were playing at, they had no idea just how ready this circle was to fight back.
Chapter Nine
The hum of Ursula’stattoo needle filled the parlor, its steady buzz a familiar sound beneath the low thrum of the building’s wards.The parlor itself smelled of ink and antiseptic, overlaid by the faint bite of incense that never quite burned away.The walls were crowded with framed sketches and inked flash designs, some bold and modern, others ancient symbols woven from runes and Celtic knots.A couch sagged near the front window beneath stacks of magazines, and the floor was polished wood scarred by decades of boots and chair legs.
Ursula sat hunched on her stool, utterly focused, her dark hair tied back in a severe knot that left her pale profile sharp as carved stone.She was finishing a sprawling commission she’d been working on for weeks—a pair of immense angel wings spread across the thick back of a burly construction worker who gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in his lap.Sweat rolled down his temples, the muscles in his shoulders trembling, but he said nothing—Ursula’s reputation for precision and her lack of tolerance for whining kept most clients silent.The needle moved with ruthless grace, line by line, ink sinking into skin in dark, steady sweeps.
