Chapter 4
Rayna had faced hostile spirits, interdimensional pests, and one extremely entitled fairy prince who tried to unionize his followers, but nothing made her want to fight quite like Manhattan traffic at noon. She barreled down the Lower East Side sidewalk with a purpose that suggested violence.
“This better not be another crystal-healing influencer who thinks sage equals surgery,” Rayna growled.
Joell hustled behind her, clutching her bag like it contained state secrets. “He came recommended!”
“By whom, Joell?”
“I did a locator spell.”
“What did you ask to locate? An energy worker?”
“The best energy worker in New York. I even heard his name whispered.”
Rayna stopped dead, staring her down. “You heard a whisper.”
“It was a confident whisper,” Joell insisted.
“Witch, that’s not much better.”
“Look, you wanted to check him out before we invited him to the mansion, and I think that’s smart. Magda is watching over them and will call us if they get worse.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
They stopped in front of a building whose entire personality could be described as “eclectic apothecary meets spiritual fire hazard.” Herbs overflowed from window boxes. Crystals glittered in sunbeams. An inordinate number of wind chimes clinked ominously as if gossiping.
A sign taped to the door read:
ENERGY ALIGNMENTS
NO EXORCISMS AFTER 5 PM.
NO BLEEDING ON THE STOOP.
It was signed Ezra.
Rayna blinked. “Okay, that last rule concerns me.”
“I mean… it is New York,” Joell offered weakly.
Before Rayna could knock, the door creaked open.
A tallish man with ginger hair tied neatly at his nape, and almond-shaped, carnelian eyes, stood there. He didn’t look whimsical. He looked dangerously competent.
“You’re late,” he said mildly.
Rayna glared. “No. You’re early.”
“Time is a flexible concept.”
Rayna turned to Joell. “If he starts talking about reiki as a design for living, I’m leaving.”
To her irritation, his lips twitched like he found that amusing. “Come in.”
The inside smelled faintly of eucalyptus, sandalwood, and something Rayna didn’t recognize, but it made something coil in her chest like pure magic. The walls held shelves of herbs and potions arranged with Martha Stewart precision. No clutter. No chaos. No ego. No instant red flag.
“Real magic,” Joell whispered, impressed.
Rayna elbowed her. “Be cool.”
Ezra’s last name was still a mystery, but she deduced it didn’t matter from the sign. He studied them quietly.
“You’ve been contaminated by foreign resonance,” he said. No preamble. No dramatic flourish. Just a fact.
Rayna stiffened. “We didn’t tell you that.”
“I didn’t need you to.”
A long silence followed as they sized up each other.
Joell coughed. “We’re okay, but we have two more, badly affected. Can you help?”
Ezra nodded once. “Take me to them.”
Rayna jabbed a finger at him. “If you try anything weird, I swear I’ll hex your chakras into next week.”
Ezra actually looked amused. “Noted.”
He took a slim black leather kit from a shelf and followed them out.
Wind chimes clinked behind them like they were laughing.
Sometimes the mansion did not like visitors, especially those carrying powerful magic. The foyer lanterns dimmed sharply when Ezra crossed the threshold, like annoyed eyes narrowing. A floorboard groaned in judgment. A door slammed upstairs without any wind.
Ezra paused. “This house is alive.”
Rayna waved a hand. “Semi-sentient. And petty. Sometimes dramatic, but it let you in.”
“But it growled.”
“Its bark isn’t worse than its bite, but if you were a threat, you’d have been bitten in half.”
He adjusted his stance, careful where his boots landed, as if the floor itself deserved respect.
Rayna led him to the parlor. “This is Sahara,” she said, pointing.
Sahara lay curled on the long sofa, pale and sweating despite the chill in the air. Her Desert Fox familiar was curled against her hip. Its long ears flattened and its tail wrapped protectively around her side.
“And this is Lioness.” On the opposite love seat, Lioness groaned into a pillow, her golden blonde hair a tousled halo of misery. Spirit Lion crouched beside her, glowing and huge, its amber eyes locked on Ezra like he was vetting him for a job interview. Which he was.
“Where’s Magda?” Joell asked.
Sahara waved vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “Went to get chamomile tea.”
Ezra assessed the room. “Tea won’t fix this. They’re worse than I expected.”
Lioness lifted her head an inch. “I’m fine. Just dying politely.”
“You’re not dying,” Sahara muttered. “You’re leaking magic.”
Ezra knelt beside Sahara first. “My name is Ezra. May I help you, Sahara?”
She nodded, trembling. Ezra set his leather kit on the table and opened it.
Sahara blinked. No crystals. No runes. No bones or vials or anything remotely mystical. Just gauze. Compression wraps. Alcohol wipes. Nitrile gloves. A tourniquet folded with obsessive neatness.
She stared at it for half a second too long. Ezra didn’t comment. He simply pulled on gloves, movements practiced and calm, then knelt beside her. Prepared, she thought dimly. But for what?
He hovered one gloved hand above her solar plexus. The air shifted. It felt warm, gentle, and steady. Then he removed his gloves, and a golden thread of energy extended from Ezra’s fingers, weaving through Sahara’s fractured aura.
Sahara inhaled sharply. “Ohhh… Sweet relief! My brain stopped folding in on itself like origami.”
Ezra’s lips twitched. “That’s good.”
Rayna side-eyed him. “Do you flirt while healing people? Because we don’t have time for that.”
“That wasn’t flirting,” Ezra murmured.
Lioness croaked weakly, “If flirting feels that good, I could use some flirting over here.”
Ezra moved to Lioness.
Spirit Lion blocked him with a rumbling growl that vibrated the floor.
Ezra bowed his head. “I want to help her. She has nothing to fear from me.”
“Down, boy,” Lioness added.
Spirit Lion stared him down for a long, tense moment before stepping aside.
Ezra hovered his hand over Lioness’s back. Another golden thread unfurled, sinking into her trembling aura. Lioness gasped, relaxing as the nausea faded and the world stopped spinning.
“Holy—okay,” she exhaled. “I will absolutely marry you. Sahara, put that in your notes app.”
Sahara rolled her eyes. “She’s delirious.”
“She’s honest,” Joell muttered. “Or delirious most of the time. Hard to say.”
Ezra stood, shoulders tight. “It wasn’t a curse. It was resonance. An ancient magic recognized something in Sahara.”
Sahara stiffened. “It recognized me?”
“I’m not surprised,” Rayna said. “She’s an Egyptologist and archaeologist.”
“Your magic reads ancient things,” Ezra said gently. “Sometimes ancient things read you back. Lioness was caught because she was close.”
Lioness shuddered. “Wait. I got cursed because Sahara is smart?”
Ezra shut his kit. “You’re stabilized now, but not safe. I should come with you when you return to the source. I assume you’re not going to give up.”
Rayna shook her head. “That’s correct, but we don’t bring strangers. Even competent ones.”
Ezra didn’t push. “Then take your familiars. They will sense danger faster than you.”
Spirit Lion rumbled, almost sounding like a purr. Desert Fox nodded sharply.
Ezra walked toward the door, but vanished mid-step, dissolving into nothingness like he’d been erased.
The chandelier trembled.
Lioness blinked. “Okay, stealth mode. Is that considered rude? I think it’s rude.”
Sahara groaned. “We are absolutely not bringing that man.”
Rayna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Familiars it is. I just hope it’s enough.”
Park Avenue didn’t feel right. It wasn’t quiet, exactly.
New York didn’t know the meaning of the word, but something underneath the noise felt aware.
Watching. Waiting. Joell and Rayna had dropped off Lioness and Sahara, warning them not to do anything until they’d found a parking space. That could take a while.
Sahara walked carefully, Desert Fox padding at her heels. Lioness dragged her fingers along the nearest wrought-iron fence, feeling restless. Spirit Lion prowled ahead, mane faintly glowing. No human would see him unless he wanted them to.
“You sure you’re up for this?” Lioness asked.
“No,” Sahara said. “But staying home and hiding from it felt worse.”
Lioness stepped off the curb.
A horn screeched. Tires skidded. A yellow cab missed her by inches. Strong arms grabbed her waist, yanking her back with such force she slammed into a wall of muscle.
Turning, she saw, felt, and smelled Cal Monroe. He smelled vaguely like a bonfire on a summer night.
His expression was a blend of alarm and irritation. “Lioness, seriously? You can’t just stroll into traffic. You want some poor cab driver facing charges of vehicular homicide?”
Lioness stared up at him, dazed and embarrassed, but grateful. “Well, when you put it that way… By the way, hi.”
“Hi?” he echoed. “That’s all I get? I just saved your life.”
“Well, my life’s been saved before. I haven’t given out any medals yet. I don’t see why I should start now.”
Cal’s mouth twitched, impressed despite himself. His hand lingered half a second too long before he released her.
“You two okay?” he asked. “Last time I saw you… Well, yikes.”
Sahara nodded, though her skin was pale and her mouth tense. “Better than we were. Thanks for the ride.”
“I was just heading over to the place you taped off.”
Spirit Lion materialized fully behind Lioness, towering and glowing.
Cal jumped. “Jesus—what is that?”
“Emotional support predator,” Lioness said straight-faced. “What you’re seeing is his spirit. He’s actually in Africa.”
Cal barked a laugh. “Right. Of course.” Then, quieter, “I know you have some mysterious juju, but be careful, okay?”
Lioness smiled at him, something warm catching in her chest. “You too, firefighter.”
She and Sahara crossed the street, carefully this time, with their familiars flanking them like spectral guardians.
“He saw your spirit Lion,” Sahara said, sounding almost accusatory.
“I know. Isn’t that awesome?”
“I wouldn’t call it that. Mundanes aren’t supposed to see them unless you’re in mortal danger.”
Lioness shrugged. “But I wasn’t, and he seems so nice. I don’t believe that’s why my lion showed himself.”
“Just the same… I’d keep my guard up.”
“Fortunately, I’m not you.”
Sahara rolled her eyes. “You sure aren’t.”
The moment they reached the tree line, Sahara felt it. A cold, deep pinch hooking into her center like invisible claws.
She froze, breath caught. “Lioness—”
Desert Fox hissed, fur bristling. Spirit Lion roared, shaking branches. Lioness whipped around just in time to see Sahara jerk forward, dragged inches closer to the obelisk site as if yanked by something unseen.
“Oh, hell no!” Lioness grabbed her arm, planting her feet. Both of them were dragged forward.
The air shimmered. A veil peeled back. Then Ezra appeared.
Not walking in from anywhere. One moment: nothing. The next moment: Ezra.
His eyes glowed like molten silver. “Don’t move!”
Lioness dragged Sahara back. Desert Fox scrambled, snarling.
Ezra thrust out his hand. A golden shockwave burst from his palm, slamming into the invisible force. The world rippled. A silent shriek tore through the ground.
Lioness hit the ground first. Sahara collapsed onto Lioness, shaking.
Ezra lowered his hand slowly, chest heaving.
Lioness glared. “You followed us!”
Ezra didn’t flinch. “I told you, if it flared, I’d feel it.”
“It tried to take me,” Sahara whispered, voice thready.
Ezra crouched beside her, expression soft and fierce all at once. “But it won’t. Not while I’m here.”
Spirit Lion growled protectively. Desert Fox pressed against Sahara, as if adding their vows of safety.
Ezra stared toward the obelisk. A hairline fracture near the top had formed since the last time they’d seen it.
Lioness swallowed. “Ezra, what is that thing?”
“Something ancient,” he said quietly. “And something that has not finished with her.” He nodded toward Sahara.
“Super,” Sahara said, sarcastically.