“Get behind me,” he ordered.
“Like hell.”
Before he could argue, five members of the Shadow Council materialized at the edge of the property. Margaret Thornfield stood at the center, her pewter hair severe in the moonlight, flanked by four others Marcus didn’t recognize but whose magical signatures radiated hostility.
“Final warning, witch,” Margaret said, her voice carrying the authority of someone used to being obeyed. “You’ve brought a demon into our territory. Flaunted your disregard for our traditions. Come with us now, submit to Council authority, or face the consequences.”
Marcus stepped forward, the air around him cooling several degrees. Golden energy crackled around his fingers. “She’s under court-ordered protection. You have no authority here.”
“Our authority predates your supernatural court system by centuries,” Margaret sneered. “Stand aside, demon.”
“You’ll have to go through me.” The temperature around him dropped ten degrees as his power rose to meet the threat.
“And me.” Hazel moved to stand beside him, her magic crackling purple in the growing darkness.
Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “You would stand with an outsider against your own people?”
“He’s protecting me from murderers,” Hazel shot back. “That makes him more my people than you’ve ever been.”
The Council members shifted, magic building in the air like static before a storm. Marcus felt Hazel’s power rise to meet it, and without thought, their magic combined. The coven’s signature colors blazed as their energy wove together, creating a barrier that hummed with combined strength. The Council stepped back.
For a moment, the two groups faced off. Then Margaret’s lips curled in disgust.
“This isn’t over,” she said. “When your demon leaves, and he will leave, you’ll answer for this betrayal.”
They vanished as quickly as they’d appeared.
Hazel swayed, and Marcus caught her elbow. The combined casting had taken more out of her than she’d let show.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Just…” She looked up at him, adrenaline making her eyes bright. “Did you see…”
“What?”
“The way they arrived. They knew exactly where we were.” Hazel’s intuition was working fast now. “The wards should have given us more warning. Five, maybe ten minutes. But they were just here.”
Marcus’s stomach dropped. “Someone told them.”
“More than that.” She pulled away, pacing to the edge of the property where the council had stood. “Look at this.”
He followed her gaze to the ground. Faint magical residue traced a pattern in the grass: targeting runes, precise and deliberate. Someone had marked their location.
“Someone’s been feeding them information,” Hazel said. “About where we are. About the wards. Probably about everything we’ve been doing.”
“The firm wouldn’t do that.”
“I know.” She turned to face him. “But someone knows we’re here. Someone who understands magical security well enough to help them bypass most of your wards. That takes skill.”
“Who has access to our location?”
“Your firm. The court. And…” Hazel’s face went pale. “The Shadow Council has informants everywhere. They’ve been watching me for years. What if…”
“What?”
“The night I witnessed the murder. The night I was gathering moonbell flowers in that exact spot at that exact time.” Her hands trembled. “Margaret Thornfield mentioned something weeks ago about the council ‘maintaining order.’ What if they’re not just working against me? What if they’re working with the Blackwoods?”
Marcus felt the pieces click into place with sickening certainty. “The economic warfare. Cutting off your supplies, driving away your customers. They’re not just trying to force you out of town.”
