It’s a nice day.
And then, because the universe has a sick sense of humor, everything goes to shit.
I feel it before I see it, a ripple in the wards surrounding Villeneuve’s property. Someone is crossing the boundary. Someone who shouldn’t be here.
My head snaps up. The others have felt it too. Sean has stopped mid-handstand, frozen in place. Micah’s laughter has died out and Rowan is already moving toward us, his expression gone sharp and alert.
Killian is on his feet before I can blink. His hand is still gripping mine, pulling me up beside him. The tension that he wears like armor lately has hardened into something dangerous.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Company,” Rowan says grimly, sniffing the air. “Undead.”
A figure emerges from the tree line at the edge of the garden. A tall man in an expensive-looking charcoal suit, with pale skin and slicked-back black hair that’s turned prematurely white at the temples, considering he doesn’t look a day over twenty-five.
And his eyes are wrong. They’re a shade of purple I’ve only ever seen in the supernatural world, and even then, rarely.
I know what he is even before he opens his mouth. Lich. One of the undead practitioners who traded their mortality for power centuries ago. They’re rare and dangerous and almost always connected to one dark organization or another.
This isnotgood.
“Regina Cook?” His voice is smooth and deceptively pleasant. It makes my skin crawl.
“Who’s asking?” Killian steps in front of me. His hand has shifted from holding mine to gripping my wrist, keeping me behind him.
The lich’s gaze moves over Killian boredly. Then it shifts to the others—Sean and Micah flanking us, Rowan positioned slightly behind—before finally settling back on me.
“Knox Warner,” he says. “Council Special Investigator. I’m here regarding the incident with the Starbridge coven.”
My stomach drops.
“The Council already investigated,” Rowan says carefully. “We cooperated fully.”
“Yes.” Knox’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve reviewed the reports. Quite thoroughly, in fact. There are... inconsistencies.”
“What kind of inconsistencies?” Micah’s voice is sharper than usual.
“The kind that result in eight dead witches and a rogue siphon walking free.” Those purple eyes fix on me with an intensity that makes my magic stir uneasily beneath my skin. “You should have been taken into custody, Ms. Cook. The moment your pack killed those coven members, you became a person of interest.”
“Those coven members attacked us,” I say. My voice comes out steadier than I expected. “They brought a werewolf. Areanimatedwerewolf. We were just defending ourselves.”
“So you claim.”
“So theevidenceshows.” Killian’s growl is barely human. “The Council sweepers found traces of necromancy at the scene. Dark magic. That’s not on us.”
“The Council sweepers found what they were told to find.” Knox’s tone is dismissive. “This investigation has been compromised from the start. Favoritism. Interference from certain parties who have a vested interest in protecting Ms. Cook.”
“Bullshit,” Sean spits.
“Is it?” Knox takes a step closer. The wards around the property should have stopped him, but he walked through them like they weren’t even there. Council authority, probably, assuming he really is who he says he is. Or something worse. “Kyle Starbridge is missing. His coven has been decimated. Eight of his followers are dead, including one who was in Council custody while being interrogated by the woman who left him. And yet Ms. Cook remains free.”
“Because she’s innocent,” Rowan says, his lip curling back in a snarl.
“That remains to be determined.” Knox’s gaze never leaves my face. “You’ll need to come with me. For questioning.”
Killian moves so fast I barely track it. One second he’s standing in front of me. The next, he’s right in Knox’s face, every line of his body screaming violence.
“She’s not going anywhere with you.”
