Chapter Eight #2
“Idiot,” Saffron muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched. She reached to stroke his jaw again, softening the words. “Don’t scare me like that again.”
Isaac caught the look on her face and tightened his arm around her. “He just likes the attention.”
“Hell, yes I do,” Nolan said, smirking.
The laughter that broke from the others eased some of the tension. Willow actually snorted her tea out her nose.
Ursula set down her mug with a sharp click, though a smile still tugged at her lips. “Joking aside, something has been bothering me. Why there? Why that building?”
Saffron nodded, her voice low. “It certainly felt ... deliberate. Could it have been a deliberate trap meant for you two.”
Nolan’s jaw tightened. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
But Liam, seated across with Willow curled at his side, shook his head. “Or the fire wasn’t set for you specifically. Not this time. It may have had more to do with what was inside the building.”
Jacob leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “After the ambulance took you three off, Liam and I stayed nearby. People were too busy with the fire crews to notice a couple of wolves cloaked in magic listening from the shadows.”
Willow smiled faintly. “Listening is generous. From what you told me, you two nearly gave the poor lawyer a heart attack.”
Liam’s grin was unrepentant. “He couldn’t see me, not really. I brushed past him while he was ranting to some man on the street about papers that needed to be found. You should’ve seen him jump. Nearly leaped straight out of his trousers.”
Jacob chuckled. “You’re lucky he didn’t keel over right there and have a heart attack.”
Saffron arched a brow. “You terrified a lawyer while invisible? That’s your idea of subtle?”
Liam shrugged. “I never claimed subtlety was my strong suit.”
Nolan laughed, then winced as the motion tugged at his ribs. “I’d pay to see that. You playing ghost to some poor bastard in a suit.”
“I highly recommend it,” Liam shot back. “It’s surprisingly entertaining.”
Jacob’s expression sobered. “But we heard enough. That lawyer—the one who ran his office out of the ground floor—he owns the building. He was arguing with a man in the street, saying he didn’t care what it took, they had to find or forge the documents and get them filed.
Something about probate, land titles, an old will. ”
Isaac frowned. “Property dispute? You think this has something to do with the Council?”
Liam took up the story. “The lawyer told the man he was talking to, that now that the Archdruid was dead, the two vying for his position were playing a deadly game. And it was easy to see and hear that he was scared.”
Ursula frowned, reaching for her tea. “The Archdruid could well have been Marcus. Did you happen to get the lawyer’s name?”
Jacob shook his head. “No, not his name, but the firm’s name was Jameson and Sons.”
Ursula froze, tea halfway to her mouth, and whipped her gaze to Jacob’s. “Jameson and Sons? Was the lawyer a balding, overweight white man, with glasses that look too small for his face, and sweating profusely?”
Jacob and Liam both nodded. “That’s him,” Jacob said. “That’s why it looked like he might actually have a stroke or heart attack when Liam scared him.”
Isaac did not like the way the color was draining from Ursula’s face. “What is it?” he asked.
“I know that law firm, Jameson and Sons,” Ursula said slowly as she placed her tea cup back on the table.
“Because that lawyer is Karl Jameson and he works for the people who own this building, which includes my apartment on the top floor, Fated Ink,” she looked over at where Saffron sat on his lap, “your apartment, Saffie, and this rooftop.”
Willow whistled low. “Wow, that has to have a hefty old valuation, huh?”
Isaac nodded. “Yeah, this close to downtown, I would argue it would be over a hundred million, easy.”
Willow leaned even more forward in her chair. “And from what you overheard, he’s looking for documents pertaining to land titles, and an old will. And he needs to get them filed.”
Liam nodded. “Yeah, so what if the Council torched an entire building to clean up that paperwork? Maybe they don’t want those papers filed. That’s some next-level crazy.”
Ursula’s eyes narrowed. “It means they’re desperate. Whatever that man found in those documents, it shook them badly enough to risk exposure.”
Isaac tightened his hold on Saffron, his voice steady but grim. “Then we’re already in the middle of it. This wasn’t random. It wasn’t chance. They lit that fire because of what this place represents. Because of us.”
Brielle, quiet until now, set her glass down with trembling hands. “Then we don’t just fight to protect ourselves. We fight to protect this ground. If they wanted to wipe something out connected to this place, we’d better find out what it was.”
A murmur of agreement circled the group, the tension breaking for just a moment as they acknowledged the truth of her words. Nolan raised his glass in a mock toast, muttering, “To protecting our rooftop.”
Liam chuckled, Jacob added a dry, “And terrifying lawyers,” which drew a laugh even from Ursula.
But as the laughter faded, the mood sobered again.
The Council wasn’t playing games, and their circle could no longer treat this as chance.
The conclusion was clear—this was a battle line being drawn, and they were already standing on it.
Nolan sighed, leaning back, his eyes on Saffron. “We felt you tonight.” his gaze swept the women in the room “All of you. You know that, right?”
“Of course you did,” Saffron shot back, lips curving into a tired grin. “When we get our Wicca on, we’re fucking awesome.”
Isaac felt the others laugh, the sound a balm against the fear still gnawing at him. But beneath the humor, the truth burned clear. The Council had just made it personal.
The rooftop fell silent again, the night wind cold around them, but the bond between them thrummed, steady and strong.
For the first time since the fire, Isaac felt something like hope—hard and sharp, but real.
Whatever the Council thought they were playing at, they had no idea just how ready this circle was to fight back.