“We don’t need a warrant for safety…”
“Section 28-103.4 of the New York City Administrative Code.” Ava pulled the citation from memory, thank God for property law courses. “Emergency inspections require either imminent visible danger or written authorization from the Department of Buildings. You have neither. This is a restaurant that’s been in continuous operation for thirty years with a perfect safety record. There’s no visible damage, no smell of gas, no customer complaints.”
Her mother had stopped arguing. Was watching her daughter with something like awe.
“We received a tip…” Hendricks started.
“From whom? Through what channel? Was it verified before you dispatched a full team and a fire truck?” Ava stepped closer. “Because from where I’m standing, this looks like a coordinated harassment campaign against a family business. And when I find out who authorized this, and I will, I’m going to make sure the city’s liability is front-page news.”
Hendricks’ jaw worked. The other inspectors had gone quiet.
“Now,” Ava continued, “you can continue this inspection, properly, by the book, with documentation of every reading and every regulation you’re citing. Or you can leave and come back when you have actual evidence of an actual problem. But you’re not shutting anything down today. Not without a fight you really don’t want.”
“These readings…”
“Are jumping all over the place, aren’t they?” She’d noticed one of the inspectors frowning at his device, tapping it like it was malfunctioning. “Almost like there’s interference. Or like someone calibrated them wrong. Or like they’re picking up something other than gas: cleaning supplies, maybe? Paint fumes from the renovation next door?”
The inspector with the misbehaving meter looked at Hendricks. “She’s right. These readings don’t make sense. They’re spiking near the walls but not the stove lines.”
“Equipment malfunction,” another inspector muttered.
Hendricks looked like he wanted to argue. But Ava had her phone recording, her bar card visible, and twenty years of immigrants’ distrust of authority radiating from her parents behind the counter.
“Fine.” He made a note on his clipboard. “We’ll need to recalibrate and return.”
“With proper documentation. And advance notice. And an actual warrant if you want to shut anything down.” Ava smiledpleasantly. “I’ll be happy to provide my contact information for your legal department.”
Her phone buzzed. Victor:Two minutes out. Back entrance.
“Mom, Dad, I need to check something in the back. Keep them busy.”
Her father nodded once, then turned to Hendricks. “Now. You show me this regulation you talk about. Every word. I want to understand exactly.”
The back entranceopened onto a narrow alley that smelled like dumpsters and old cooking oil. Victor’s Tesla was parked at the far end, and he was already walking toward her carrying a leather messenger bag.
“Did you get it?” she asked.
“The ritual text. A silver knife; it has to be silver.” He handed her the bag. “How long do we have?”
“They’re leaving. ‘Equipment malfunction.’ But they’ll be back, and Lilith won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“Then we do this now.”
Inside the bag, Ava found an ancient book. Not a copy, but what looked like an original manuscript, the pages yellowed and fragile. The text was in a language she didn’t recognize, but Victor had paper-clipped a phonetic transcription to the relevant page.
“It’s simpler than I expected,” she said, scanning the instructions.
“Old magic usually is. The power comes from the blood and the intent, not the complexity.” Victor glanced toward the door. “You need blood from three generations. You, your mother, your father if his parents are deceased…”
“My grandmother.” Ava touched the jade at her throat automatically, then stopped. The gesture still felt hollow. Wrong. “She’s gone. But my mother’s parents, my Gong Gong and Po Po, they helped start this restaurant. Their names are on the original lease.”
“That works. Living or dead, as long as the blood connection exists. You’ll speak for them through your mother.”
The back door opened. Her mother slipped through, eyes wide.
“Ava, what’s happening? The inspectors are packing up, but your father is still arguing with them about…” She stopped when she saw Victor. Recognition flickered across her face. “You’re him. The man from the restaurant. The one who…”
“Mom, I need you to trust me.” Ava took her mother’s hands. “I know I haven’t explained everything. I know there’s so much you don’t understand about what’s been happening. But right now, I need you to help me do something that’s going to protect this place. Protect our family.”
