Sean deflates slightly. “Okay, we’ll table the code name thing for now and just go with The Professor.” He pauses. “That actually sounds kind of badass.”
The crime tape ringing the property looks mundane to human eyes but carries a series of interlocking wards designed to keep unauthorized personnel out. I feel them humming as I approach. Standard containment protocols.
Nothing I can’t handle.
I raise my hand and push.
The wards resist for approximately half a second before they recognize what they’re dealing with. Old magic knows older magic. And there is very little in this world older than what runs through my veins.
The tape falls slack and the wards dissolve.
“Show off,” Micah mutters from somewhere behind me.
The front door is unlocked. The Council has already swept this place and taken what they wanted, leaving the rest to rot.
I very much doubt we’ll find anything they missed, but Regina insisted, and a pack of shifters and a powerful siphon just spinning their wheels is asking for trouble. Fruitless as this endeavor may prove to be, there are worse ways to spend a morning.
I push the front door open and step inside.
The foyer is dark and dust covers every visible surface. Micah sneezes somewhere behind me. The furniture is covered in white sheets, giving everything the appearance of a haunted house. I doubt any actual spirits would be lingering after the Council sweepers ran through their protocols.
Regina enters the house behind me.
I watch her without appearing to. It’s a skill I’ve perfected over centuries. The slight hitch in her breath, the blankness she’s trying to maintain even as her eyes move across the space.
She lived here foryears.
With a man who treated her like a possession.
Through the bond, I could feel exactly what she’s experiencing. She wouldn’t be able to hide it from me, and I could probably get by without her noticing I’m accessing it. Every echo of memory, every flash of pain or anger or grief.
But I don’t. I keep that door firmly closed. Some privacy should be sacred, even when you’ve woven yourself into someone’s soul without their permission.
She doesn’t hate me for it.
I still don’t understand why.
I’ve given her every reason to. The bond. The secrets. Even the way I nearly kissed her during that ridiculous game before common sense reasserted itself. I’ve been cold and distant and cryptic, and she still looks at me like…
Like I’m a person.
A person who infuriates her, perhaps, but a person nonetheless.
Even clever witches have blindspots.
“Okay.” Regina’s voice is steady, but I can hear the effort it takes. “Let’s split up and cover more ground.”
“Bad idea,” Killian says immediately.
“It’s a cleared crime scene. There’s literally no one here.”
“I don’t care.” The amber flicker in his eyes is more pronounced than usual. “We stick in two groups.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Mr. Miftah, Mr. Brewer, Mr. Evans. Take the east wing. We’ll cover the west and the basement.”
Sean snaps a salute. “Roger that, Sti—” He catches himself. “Professor. Nerd, Nerd Prime, on me.”
He moves out like he’s leading a SWAT team, Micah and Rowan trailing behind with expressions of weary resignation.
