Chapter 32
Nia
Nia sat behind her desk at Charis. Afternoon sun streamed through the windows, catching on a dust mote parade, while Jade snored from an old armchair Nia had dragged into the light so the dog could sunbathe.
Her phone buzzed beneath a stack of donation receipts.
Mira
5 minutes out.
Me
I hope you have coffee.
Mira
Mira was an ex-mark turned friend. Years ago, Nia had tried to extort the witch, convinced she was running underground fights and selling black market potions tied to a string of deaths.
But Mira hadn’t been the culprit, just a daughter cleaning up her family’s mess.
As the new head of her community, Mira had begun quietly dismantling the criminal empire her mother left behind.
Now she was a donor. And, occasionally, a source of news and names. When Mira caught wind of terrible things planned or done, she passed along the intel and the identities of those responsible—marks for Nia to bother.
Normally, Nia made the ride out to Darkwood where Mira lived. She rarely came to Stella Rune unless she was checking on Salt, a club she owned in town. But the trip was three hours each way by motorcycle, and Nia hadn’t felt great about leaving Jade alone for so long.
That morning, she’d texted Lochlan:
Me
Can Jade come to work with me today?
Lochlan
Yes, you can take Jade. What did you eat this morning?
Me
Coffee.
Lochlan
…and?
Me
Coffee.
Lochlan
I’m going to start hiding snacks in your purse.
Me
You’re ridiculous.
Lochlan
Maybe. But I’m also serious. Let me take care of you.
She’d blushed the whole way to work. Even Jade chasing floating fairies through the morning light couldn’t distract her.
Not because Lochlan had said anything explicit. But that quiet insistence, the certainty… it felt like he’d spoken the words into her skin.
Let me take care of you.
And he did. After they’d had sex for the first time, she’d drifted off.
He must have gone downstairs, because when her bladder woke her, he was gone.
When she came out of the bathroom, he was back—with food.
A perfect, thoughtful plate: strawberries, cheese, crackers, chocolate.
No questions. No big declarations. Just his warm, steady care.
And then he’d left for Dover.
Logically, Nia knew he had every right, and she trusted there was a good reason. But goddess, she hated it.
Her phone had buzzed again, just before she’d reached Charis.
Lochlan
Food will be waiting for you at work.
She’d shaken her head and muttered, “Utterly ridiculous.” But her heart had still raced. And she’d found Joel waiting by the Charis door, holding a paper bag in one hand and a steaming coffee in the other.
Now, sipping from that same cup, Nia pulled a black notebook from her drawer. She flipped through the pages and scanned the latest names. Anything to distract from the fact that a text and a breakfast bag had her swooning like a teenager. Pathetic.
Hayden Sutherland — $100k Dover Community Foundation (housing) RECEIVED
Blake Rumi — $25k Charis RECEIVED
Jackson Runner — $85k Feeding Children, SR Pantry, SR Animal Shelter RECEIVED
Gregor McGruff — $45k Dover Repro-Health
Every recent mark was confirmed and received. Except Gregor. His payment had been due over a week ago.
She added a follow-up to her calendar for tomorrow.
If he didn’t respond, she’d leak the photos: proof of him setting fires, using his magic to commit arson for insurance payouts.
It wouldn’t just smear his name. It would drag down his husband, too, along with the tidy little empire they’d built in Fern.
All those cozy, family-run establishments with their curated shopfronts whose business relied on wholesome reviews and glowing press.
Before she could finish writing “leak photos,” Jade chuffed.
Nia looked up to see Mira standing in the doorway, two coffees in hand.
Nia grinned. “You’re my favorite person.”
“You say that to anyone with caffeine.”
Nia stood, kissed her cheek, and took the coffee. “Still true. Who drove you?”
Mira tipped her chin toward the window, where Wren, her bodyguard, stood with his arms crossed and expression unreadable. Beside him was Glenda, a seventy-year-old wolven with no sense of personal space, openly admiring his biceps and tracing the tattoos curling down his forearm.
Nia laughed and dropped back into her chair as Mira took the one across from her.
“Thanks for meeting me here. I’ve been a bit busy…” Nia trailed off, fidgeting with the ring on her finger.
Mira’s hazel eyes shifted to Jade, stretched out like royalty on her chair by the window. “And you have a new child.”
“She’s not mine,” Nia said quickly. “She’s—”
“Your husband’s.”
Nia flushed. Mira blinked slowly, then smirked.
“You didn’t come to hear about that,” Nia said, clearing her throat and straightening a stack of papers.
“No,” Mira said. “But I’d like to.”
Nia pretended not to hear. “You said you had someone for me?”
“Mr. Bell hasn’t been very kind. To his wife, or the environment.” Mira handed her an envelope.
Nia opened it. Inside were club photos, a hotel receipt, and a zoning notice clipped from a Dunlowe paper.
“He was at Ember last week,” Mira said. “Got drunk, got handsy, and got loud. I caught enough to piece together his little project—an industrial build north of here. If it goes through, runoff cuts straight through unprotected forest and hits the ocean.”
Nia flipped to the next photo: Bell with someone who was very much not his wife.
“He’s been to Salt a few times, too,” Mira added. “Word is he’ll be back there tomorrow night.”
“Reg or sup?”
“Reg.”
Nia nodded. Regulars had a way of being drawn to magic, always chasing the feeling that anything was possible, without knowing what it really was.
“You did all the work for me,” she said, closing the envelope and adding Raymond Bell to her black notebook before snapping it shut. “This’ll be boring.”
“It was easy.” Mira shrugged. “But you get to pick the amount. Where he donates. And you get to see the look on his face.”
Her smile sharpened. “Speaking of donations, I’ve come into some… funds.”
Mira took a sip of her coffee. Nia didn’t ask. When Mira had extra cash, it usually meant someone worse didn’t.
“I need a place to unload it,” Mira went on casually.
Nia drummed her fingers along the edge of the desk, her gaze drifting to the page she’d been doodling on earlier.
Manor of Magic
House of Comfort
House for Witches
Place for Wayward Souls
“How fast do you need to unload it?” Nia asked.
“I have time. Why?”
“Ivy and I are working on something… big,” Nia said. “And we could use the support.”
“Legal or illegal?”
Nia tilted her head. “Legal. And it’ll help young supernaturals.”
Mira’s eyes widened, her face brightening. “I’ll support whatever you and that chaos witch are up to.”
The front door slammed open.
“Is Mira here!?”
Ivy barreled in, all blonde hair, bright colors, and no brakes. Mira stood, arms already open.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Ivy said, voice muffled against the witch’s shoulder.
“You were at my club a month ago,” Mira said. “Got on stage with that vibrating broomstick and corset? Half the room forgot how to breathe. You got a standing ovation, at least from those who weren’t too horny to join in.”
Ivy giggled, blushing hard. But then her eyes landed on the sun-soaked armchair and its occupant.
“Oh my goodness, is this Jade?” she squealed, moving cautiously closer, like she was approaching a unicorn grazing in the wild.
The dog perked up, tail thumping wildly before she launched herself at Ivy.
They both went down in a tangle of limbs and laughter.
Nia shook her head, smiling.
Mira chuckled and glanced out the window. Her bodyguard, Wren, was now surrounded by four elderly women, one of whom was trying to feed him spice cake.
“I should go,” Mira said. “I’m checking in on Salt, then heading back to Darkwood. Text me when you have more details about your project?”
“Will do.”
They saluted each other, half-serious.
Mira turned toward the door, then paused. “You have a delivery.”
Nia blinked. “What?”
She followed Mira into the front room and found Becket standing there with two large boxes in his arms and sweat dotting his brow.
“Becket? Put those down.”
Mira slipped past him and out the front door, presumably to rescue Wren from his admirers.
Nia looked Becket up and down. “What are you doing?”
“Hello to you too,” he said, smiling faintly. “These are the leftover jars, volunteer vests, and a bunch of other things from the harvest.”
“Oh.” Nia eyed the boxes. “I thought Ivy was handling that. With Todd from the food pantry?”
Becket just smiled.
Nia narrowed her eyes.
Ivy appeared a second later, hands flying. “Oh, sorry, Beck! Those go in the back.”
Becket followed her down the hall without hesitation.
Nia watched them go, her brow relaxing. She knew they’d hung out a few times since the autumn festival. But what did that mean? Ivy was supposed to be taking a break from dating, and Becket didn’t exactly seem like the dating type.
Maybe they were just friends. Maybe.
She was still suspicious.
“We’re grabbing a late lunch,” Ivy said. “Want to come?”
“I have Jade,” Nia replied.
“We’re going to Drift,” Becket added. “They’re dog-friendly. She’s been there before.”
At the sound of her name, Jade came bounding out from the back, tail wagging as she nudged up against Becket like he was her long-lost best friend.
Nia laughed at the dog. “I guess that’s decided. But let me check in with your daddy.”
Ivy grinned. “Oh, do you call Lochlan that?”
“If she did,” Becket said, deadpan, “the poor man would combust.”
Nia waved them off as she ducked into her office and grabbed her phone.
Me
Thinking of chaperoning Ivy and Becket at Drift. Can Jade and I join?
She glanced at her desk with a nagging sense that she was forgetting something. Before she could place it, her phone buzzed.
Lochlan
I don’t think chaperoning would’ve worked for us.