Chapter 4
"Stop slouching," Ivy hissed. "You look like a suspicious shrub."
"I look like a person trying to hide behind a decorative fern," I whispered back. "Because that is exactly what I am doing."
We were huddled in the back corner of The Daily Grind, Northcrest’s busiest (and only) magical coffee shop. It was a cozy chaos of a place—mismatched velvet armchairs, floating lanterns, and air that smelled permanently of espresso and roasted hazelnut.
Usually, I loved it here.
Today, however, I was wearing sunglasses indoors and spying on a vampire.
"He's wiping the counter again," Ivy narrated, peeling back a fern frond to peek at the bar. "Look at his forearms, Lina. The sheer efficiency. The vascularity. It’s devastating."
I craned my neck to look.
Behind the massive espresso machine stood Jax.
He was... well, Ivy wasn't wrong. He was devastating.
Tall, lean, with skin the color of alabaster and hair as black as a raven's wing.
He wore a black t-shirt that fit him like a second skin and a barista apron that somehow made him look more dangerous, not less.
He moved with a blurred, supernatural speed, frothing milk and pulling shots with a bored expression that only added to the mystique.
"He knows we're here," I said, adjusting my sunglasses. "Vampires have super-hearing, Ivy. He can probably hear your pulse."
"My pulse is chill," Ivy lied. "My pulse is a steady drumbeat of indifference."
At the counter, Jax paused. He didn't look up, but the corner of his mouth ticked up in a smirk.
"He definitely heard that," I sighed.
Ivy slumped back in her armchair, crossing her arms over her chest. She was wearing a violently orange sweater today, probably to compensate for the loss of her broom.
"I need to talk to him, Lina. He’s the only one who can get the ingredients for the stabilizers without flagging the Registry.
But if I approach him, he’ll think I’m... interested."
"You are interested."
"I am pragmatic! There is a difference!"
Jax finished making a latte, slid it across the counter to a terrified-looking freshman, and then finally looked up. His eyes—crimson-flecked obsidian—locked straight onto our fern.
He winked.
Ivy made a noise that sounded like a dying kettle. "Oh god. He winked. Did you see the wink? It was mocking. He’s mocking my pain."
"He’s flirting," I corrected. "Go talk to him. Ask for the ingredients. Flirt back. Use your chaos."
Ivy took a deep breath, smoothing her electric blue hair. "Okay. Chaos mode activated. I’m going in."
She stood up, marched toward the counter with the determination of a soldier going to war, and—
The bell above the door chimed.
The air in the coffee shop instantly shifted. The buzz of conversation died. Use spell-books were hastily closed.
Officer Stone walked in.
If Jax was sleek, dangerous elegance, Jason Stone was blunt force trauma.
He was huge—broad-shouldered and thick-chested, filling out his grey Enforcer uniform until the seams strained.
His buzz-cut hair was the color of sand, and his amber eyes scanned the room with the predatory focus of a wolf on the hunt.
He spotted Ivy instantly.
Ivy froze mid-stride. "Oh, come on."
He walked toward the counter, his heavy boots thudding on the wooden floor. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea. He stopped right next to Ivy, looming over her by a good foot.
"Miss Hollow," he rumbled. His voice was deep, gravelly, and entirely devoid of humor. "We meet again."
Ivy bristled, tilting her chin up to glare at him. "Officer Stone. Here to arrest a muffin? Or are you just intimidating the pastries?"
Stone’s jaw twitched. "I'm here for coffee. And to ensure compliance with the new curfew regulations."
"It's 2:00 PM," Ivy pointed out.
"It pays to be vigilant," Stone said. He turned his gaze to Jax, who was leaning against the back counter, watching the exchange with amusement. "And to check on... local businesses. Ensuring all imports are legal. No contraband."
The tension spiked. This wasn't just a coffee run. Stone was sniffing around. He suspected Jax.
Jax smiled, revealing the tips of his fangs. "Officer. A pleasure as always. Can I interest you in a 'Law & Order' Latte? It’s plain black coffee with a shot of bitterness. On the house."
Stone narrowed his eyes. "I prefer tea. Earl Grey. Hot."
"How predictable," Ivy muttered.
Stone turned back to her, his gaze dropping to her boots. "I see you're still grounded, Miss Hollow. Walking suits you. Less... aerial wreckage."
"My broom is innocent!" Ivy snapped. "And for your information, I look great in the air. Majestic, even."
"You looked like a hazard," Stone corrected. "A colorful, vibrant, highly illegal hazard."
"You think I'm vibrant?" Ivy blinked, caught off guard.
Stone paused. A faint flush crept up his neck, clashing with his stoic expression. "I think you are... noticeable. Hard to miss."
"Is that a compliment?" Jax asked smoothly, leaning over the counter. " careful, Officer. You sound dangerously close to expressing an emotion."
"Back off, Leech," Stone growled, his wolf rising to the surface.
"Play nice, Fido," Jax retorted, his eyes flashing red.
Both men were now glaring at each other, posturing. The Wolf vs. The Vampire. Ancient enemies.
And standing between them, vibrating with energy, was Ivy.
She looked from Stone (The Law) to Jax (The Rebel). Her eyes widened. A slow, delighted smile spread across her face.
"Wait," she whispered. "Are you two fighting? Over me?"
"No," both men said in unison.
"You totally are!" Ivy clapped her hands. "This is amazing. It’s like a romance novel cover, but with more sexual repression! Keep going. Who wants to arrest me first?"
"Ivy," I hissed, emerging from behind the fern. "Maybe don't antagonize the Law Enforcement and the Black Market Contact simultaneously?"
Stone looked at me, recognizing me instantly. "Ms. Arden. The Triad's Mate." He nodded respectfully, though his eyes remained guarded. "I hear you have an appointment with the Registry tomorrow."
"News travels fast," I said, keeping my voice cool.
"Dean Marrow is thorough," Stone said. He looked back at Ivy, his expression hardening again. "Stay out of trouble, Miss Hollow. I'd hate to have to detain you. The paperwork is extensive."
"I bet you love paperwork," Ivy teased. "I bet you have a favorite pen."
Stone didn't answer. He just held her gaze for a long, charged moment—a look that was equal parts annoyance and hunger. Then he grabbed his tea (which Jax had silently placed on the counter) and turned to leave.
"One moment, Officer!"
The window next to their booth exploded.
Not shattered. Exploded into a shower of harmless, glittery confetti.
A figure floated through the opening, landing gracefully on the back of the booth. He was wearing purple silk pajamas and a pair of oversized sunglasses. He held a baguette like a conductor's baton.
"Did someone say 'Stimulating'?" Rook chirped.
"Jesus!" Ivy jumped, clutching her chest. "Rook! Doors exist!"
"Doors are for pedestrians," the Fae professor scoffed. He peered at Stone through his sunglasses. "Officer Stone! You look particularly grumpy today. Is it the uniform? Or the crushing weight of existential dread?"
Stone glared at him. "It's the vandalism. You just broke a window."
"It's an illusion," Rook waved his baguette. "The window is fine. The confetti, however, is permanent. Good luck getting it out of your upholstery."
Jax chuckled, handing Rook a double-espresso without being asked. "Rook. Your usual. Chaos in a cup."
"Thank you, my dark and brooding friend." Rook took a sip, then looked at Ivy. "We're going to the duck pond to heckle the swans. You coming?"
Ivy looked at the three of them.
Stone: The immovable object. Stern, dangerous, forbidden.
Jax: The vampire rebel. Smooth, lethal, tempting.
Rook: The wild card. Magical, ridiculous, fun.
Her eyes bounced between them like a pinball. I saw something click in her expression. It wasn't just attraction to one of them. It was the mix. The way Stone gritted his teeth at Rook. The way Jax smirked at Stone. The way Rook preened for both of them.
"This," Ivy whispered to me, "is a problem. A very hot, very chaotic problem."
"Which one?" I asked.
"The whole vibe," she admitted. "The Grump, The Rebel, and The Clown. It’s like a boy band, but with more murder potential."
"You're in trouble," I concluded.
"Big trouble," she agreed, grinning.
Jax slid a small, brown paper bag across the counter toward Ivy. "The Stabilizer ingredients. Monkshood. Crushed moonstone. And a dash of ethically sourced Siren blood. Don't ask where I got it."
Ivy grabbed the bag, her playful demeanor vanishing. "Thank you, Jax. Seriously."
"Don't thank me," Jax said, his eyes flicking to me. "Just keep your Triad safe. Things are getting... weird. The shadows in the Night District are moving on their own."
"Shadows?" I asked sharply. "Like Lucien's magic?"
"No," Jax shook his head. "Different. Hungry. Just... watch your backs at the Registry tomorrow."
He turned away to serve the next customer. Stone grunted, adjusted his belt, and stomped out. Rook blew Ivy a kiss and floated back out the window.
"Three of them," Ivy muttered, clutching the bag. "I'm going to need more coffee."
"Good," I said, watching the door where Stone had exited. "Because after tomorrow... I have a feeling we're going to need it."
Walking back to the penthouse, the weight of Jax's warning—and the Moro revelation—hung heavy on my shoulders.
Hungry shadows.
A Dean who eats magic.
A Registry demanding our blood.
It was all connected.
"You okay?" Ivy asked, bumping my shoulder.
"Just thinking," I said. "About Stone. He's working for Marrow."
"He's doing his job," Ivy defended surprisingly quickly. "He's an Enforcer. He follows rules. It’s his kink."
"He warned us," I pointed out. "In his own way. 'Marrow is thorough.' He was telling us to be careful."
"And Rook?" Ivy asked, looking at the sky where the Fae had disappeared. "What's his play?"
"Rook plays his own game," I said.
We reached the dorms, but the feeling of dread didn't lift. The campus felt different. Colder. The students we passed kept their heads down, hurrying to class. The joy, the chaos, the magic of Northcrest... it was being suffocated.
And tomorrow, we were walking right into the belly of the beast.