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CHAPTER 1

Five desperate stars on fire.

Ivy winced.

She didn’t like what she saw, but the tarot cards never lied.

She hovered her right palm over the Five of Pentacles card before returning it to its normal condition: a blank card.

People called her ability to read blank tarot cards a talent—considering the enchanted deck spoke only to her—but she considered it a curse.

She couldn’t unsee what she had seen just now: a card representing material losses.

A material loss could be anything, as long as it was real and important to someone.

Money.

A house.

A car.

But what if it was something worse?

What if it was the loss of another human life?

She shook away the chill racing up her spine and tried to consider more optimistic outcomes. Maybe, this time, it just meant the end of something unpleasant?

Doubt it.

Her puppy moaned, and she looked down to where the dog sat on the floor.

“Come on, Pixy, hurry up, or you’ll have to eat at the dog school.”

The five-month-old Alaskan husky glanced at a leftover pizza slice in the carryout box and then looked back at Ivy with sad puppy eyes.

She squatted down and rubbed the puppy’s ears. “I’m sorry, Pixy, they’re doing a unit inspection today. They don’t allow pets in this apartment, and I can’t afford to have your stuff lying around. Now, if you behave, I’ll take you to see Nina tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Pixy loved Ivy’s sister, Nina. Without a second invitation, the puppy dove in, consuming the last Supreme Seafood slice of pizza with extra anchovies as if pizza would soon vanish from the planet.

Ivy quickly checked the apartment to ensure everything was perfect.

Polished Italian tile floor—cleaned. Thick, plush carpet in the bedrooms—vacuumed. Marble top on the kitchen island—polished. Floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the vibrant city high-rises of Melbourne—spotless.

This wasn’t her apartment, so she couldn't mess it up. The private security company that placed her here—Light Source—wouldn’t like that very much, considering the secure location was meant to place their top clients, and Ivy was just house sitting in between projects.

She didn’t complain, because she got to live in luxurious apartments for free. But at times, she missed having a place she could call home. She tried not to think about it too hard as she tucked her blank tarot cards into her back pocket. 

There were worse things to worry about than not having a home, if today’s reading was to be trusted.

Fifteen minutes and a short car ride later, Pixy gave Ivy a paw shake and then made her way to the entrance of the puppy school. She couldn’t imagine this was the same puppy she had found soaking wet in the rain, shaking and whimpering from cold, hunger, and the loss of its mother in a car accident.

At least, a car accident was what humans would have seen.

What Ivy saw was the result of a dark magic attack. Had her ex-client extended the contract a day longer, he would have been under her protection, and the accident never would have happened.

But without that contract, she wasn’t where she needed to be to prevent anything. 

Ivy sighed. Taking care of Pixy was the least she could do. Well, maybe that and check on the man, to see how he was fairing post-accident.

Five minutes later, she walked around the corner from the car park into Little Bean, a boutique coffee shop located on the basement level of a shopping mall. The aroma of the rich, freshly roasted coffee beans welcomed her, and the air inside the shop was as warm as Leslie’s smile from behind the counter.

“Ivy, you shouldn’t have come. I know you’re busy.”

“I come here for the best coffee in town, Leslie...”

Hamish walked out from the back of the shop and approached them. He was in his sixties, but since the attack, he looked eighty. This was the best he had looked in his five months of recovery.

“Leslie, there are no eggs in the fridge,” said Hamish. “We need to prepare for the lunch rush.”

Leslie turned around, held her husband’s hands, and spoke slowly. “Love, we don’t offer meals anymore. Just coffee and cakes. We talked about it last night, remember?”

He frowned. “Oh, I forgot. I’m sorry.” Then he turned toward Ivy and smiled. “Hello there. Would you like a coffee?”

A lump formed in Ivy’s throat, but she promised she would not let a tear fall. Hamish didn’t remember her at all. Which was expected. Supernatural attacks caused devastating damage to the human mind. 

“That would be lovely, thank you. A long black is perfect.”

He nodded and turned toward the coffee machine.

Leslie smiled. “The doctor said he's improving. I’m confident he’ll get better.”

“How’s business? With all that scaling down, can you still afford the shop rent in the city?”

“The lease is paid through the end of the year. We’ll see how things go from there. How’s Pixy?”

“She doesn’t complain about living in my dog-unfriendly apartment.”

“You can keep her if you like, Ivy. I don’t think I can take her back.”

“Won’t hear me complain about it,” Ivy promised. 

Hamish handed Ivy her coffee and then looked toward a table at the entrance of the shop. He approached the young man seated there, who had stood to leave.

“You need to pay for your coffee.”

“That’s not mine. You hadn’t cleared the table when I came in.”

Leslie hurried over. “I’m sorry. Let me clean it up for you.”

The young man turned to leave.

Hamish grabbed his elbow, and the man jerked away and pushed Hamish to the doorframe with his other hand.

“Don’t put your hands on me, old man!” He stepped closer to Hamish. 

His demeanor made Hamish stagger back a few steps. The man reached his hands out to grab at Hamish’s shirt.

“Hey!” Ivy called out.

The man stopped advancing toward Hamish. He didn’t even turn to look at Ivy. He shoved everyone out of his way and charged outside the shop.

“Bastard.” Ivy gave chase.

It didn’t take long for her to catch him. She tackled him, and he fell forward onto the rough pavement. Then he pushed Ivy off, scrambled to his feet, and kept running.

Ivy hopped atop the cement railing, and in two steps, she was on the next level of the car park. She ran across it and then dropped herself down to ground level next to the entrance. 

As she landed, the man came running across the car park entrance. Ivy planted a kick to his abdomen, which sent him crashing to the ground on his backside.

He push up to his feet again and turned to run from Ivy. At the same time, in front of him, an expensive-looking car entered the car park.

Crap! 

He was going to run straight into that car.

She swiveled forward with her signature aikido move, grabbed the man’s shirt from behind, pulled him backward, and pinned him to the ground. With her knee on his back, the man was trapped and could do nothing but wriggle and curse.

“Let me go!” he hollered.

“Only if you go back to Little Bean and apologize.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You intimidated and pushed an old man with a disability, you moron.” She eased up her knee, lifted him, then slammed his body back to the pavement before crushing her knee down on his back again. “The next one is going to break your ribs. If you continue to be stubborn, I’ll introduce you to my fists. And that won’t be pretty.”

“All right, all right. Let me go. I’ll apologize.”

“Good.”

Before she’d even released him, a car door dinged open, and Ivy did a quick mental playback. She had grabbed the guy just in time, and he hadn’t slammed into that expensive car.

The owner of said car, however, apparently hadn’t just kept going about his day. Instead, they stepped forward to stand next to her.

At least, that’s what she assumed, because the expensive-looking shoes she was staring at right now looked like the kind someone who owned an expensive-looking car would wear.

Why had he stopped, though? His car hadn’t been damaged.

She eased off the man she’d captured and stood, keeping his arms locked behind him so he couldn’t run away without dislocating his shoulders.

Ivy was almost six feet tall, but she was staring at an elegant European-style suit at about chest level. She wasn’t into fashion, but she had to admit she liked this man’s style.

She looked up.

Her heart skipped a few beats when her gaze met the face of a dark angel staring down at her. Striking blue eyes. Raven-dark hair. Masculine jawline. And lips made for kissing.

“I didn’t scratch your car.”

“No, you didn’t. I just wanted to tell you that your aikido move was impressive. Do you need assistance with this man?”

In that instant, the protective spell her mom had cast on her as a child to protect her from negative energy snapped, and her survival instincts kicked in.

“He’s a handful. But I can manage. Thanks.” She hauled the young man up then shoved him ahead of her, walking him toward the coffee shop as quickly as possible. 

She thought the man in the suit said something else, but she wasn't listening; no, she was just trying to get away from him as quickly as possible.

At worst, his ability to break the protection spell, whether intentional or not, proved dangerous to Ivy. At best, the man with an ocean of electrifying energy emanating from his body might drown her in distraction, and that was not good, either.

Especially since he was clearly supernatural. Ivy learned a long time ago to stay away from the type. 

And yet, her mind wandered back to him…and the mystery his presence presented. 

Because Mr. Tall, Dark, and Blue-Eyed didn’t have a supernatural signature she was familiar with. What was he? Or was she just too rusty to tell anymore? 

A minute later, Ivy pushed the offender back inside the coffee shop. There were a couple of new customers present, and she didn’t want to make a scene, so she let go and hoped he would do the right thing.

Leslie approached. “I sent Hamish home for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” said the man. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I can pay for the coffee.”

“No worries. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Leslie said.

“You can go.” Ivy gestured toward the door.

Ivy pulled out a stack of cash she’d withdrawn from the bank the day before and pressed it into Leslie’s hands.

“I can’t take this, Ivy. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it was. We’re friends. I can’t do anything for Hamish, and I can’t return your husband to you the way he was. The money is all I can do for now. Please let me help.”

Leslie nodded.

“Excuse me.”

When the deep, warm voice with a faint British accent reached Ivy’s ears, she knew it was the man in the suit. 

She concentrated, cast a quick protective spell on herself, then turned and smiled at him. “Yes?”

“You dropped this deck of blank cards.” He handed her the box. “The cards spilled out of the box onto the sidewalk, but I’m sure I got all of them back in the box.”

“Thank you.” She slid the box into her jacket pocket. This had never happened before. The broken spell had done more damage than she realized.

Her phone buzzed, and Nathan’s ID appeared on the screen. He was her business partner at Light Source.

“Yes, Nathan,” she answered, “I’m on track to meet with the new client this afternoon.”

“Don’t worry about that, Ivy. They dropped us.”

Ivy ducked away from the crowd and plugged her ear to better hear her call. “What do you mean?”

“Sources confirmed that dark magic has officially returned to the city.”

“Won't they need our services even more because of that?” she asked, just loud enough to be heard over the receiver but quiet enough that hopefully no one nearby would pick up on their strange conversation.

“Yes, they need more security services. But they’ve lost confidence in us. And now we have a huge problem…”

She whirled around. An employee bringing out a coffee jumped out of her way and spilled the coffee right onto the suit that she had seen more than enough today.

“That’s Five of Pentacles!” she shouted, and as the words left her mouth and people stared at her, she cringed. 

Why had she said that out loud?

“What?” Nathan asked.

She turned away from everyone so they wouldn’t see the look of horror that was certainly on her face. “Not you, Nathan. It’s me. Hang on a sec.”

She pulled out her business card, grabbed a pen from the counter, and wrote on the back of the card: Sorry, I will pay for the dry cleaning.

She slid the card into the pocket of the beautiful suit. At least it was just a ruined suit and not an ended life.

“There's no need…” the man in the suit started.

She gestured that she was on the phone and walked away. She knew it was a cowardly way to get out of a conversation with the man, but she had a lot on her plate already without worrying about a guy she had just met.

“What’s the problem, Nathan?”

“Clara Thompson is dead.”

“I thought we finished our contract with the Thompsons?”

“No, we finished a project. But they were paying an ongoing retainer fee. So effectively, they’re our current client, and she died while she was under our protection.”

“Are you saying something supernatural killed her?”

“That’s what I hope you can help clear up. We can’t have her death caused by the supernatural.”

“That’s Sam’s direct client. Why didn’t you call him?”

“Light Source’s finances aren’t doing well. We needed to cut costs and tighten the budget, so I let Sam go. I thought there wasn’t much work involved in the Thompsons’ account. So I didn’t assign a new person to look after it after I let Sam go. Now, you’ll have to take care of the Thompsons.”

“Thank you for the notice, business partner!”

“I’m sorry, Ivy. I know how you dislike the business side of things, so I tried to manage as much as possible by myself. Plus, nobody can do what you do, so I need you to go to the house and see if you can clear us of a supernatural cause of death.”

“You want me to go to the crime scene?”

“It’s not a crime scene yet. Our cleaner found the body and called me. Clara is human, so it will soon become a human crime scene, but I’d like you to make it your crime scene.”

“You’re not serious!”

“I am. I know you have connections. Tip your human police friend. Ask to join the investigation, and see if you can clear the murder of supernatural causes. That’s all we need for now to keep this account. I trust Light Source can count on you at this critical time, business partner?”

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “And if they can’t?”

Nathan dropped his voice to a hollow whisper. “Then we’re done for, Ivy. Like, for good. And you know what that means for you…”

Yeah. She sure did. She was brought up to be a part of Light Source, to maintain her family’s reputation and status in the mage societies. This wasn’t just a job or a business.

This was her life.

CHAPTER 2

Death at the bottom of a hellfire pit.

That was what would happen to a liar who abused the trust of a friendship.

That could be me.

Ivy shuddered as she strode down an uneven stone footpath in the Mount Macedon range, one of the most expensive real estate areas in Victoria, heading toward the Thompsons’ holiday home.

She wasn’t afraid of death by hellfire. She was annoyed at herself, disliking the person she had let herself become when she deceived her friend Liam in the interest of Light Source.

Beautiful orange canopies flanked the street that curved around the stretch of the mountain the rich and privileged called home. This was her favorite kind of weather. Not too hot, not too cold. The cool, misty air brushed across her face, soothing her sensitive skin. She had forgotten to moisturize for two days. If she kept up this hectic lifestyle, her skin wouldn’t be so forgiving for much longer.

“Hey, stop right there!” someone shouted.

A man in his twenties burst through the doorway of a general store, jumped over a low fence, and ran toward Ivy. She stepped aside to move out of his path, but when he dashed past her, she pivoted, grabbed his thick jumper jacket from the back, and pulled him toward her.

Aikido 101. The faster the movement and the heavier the person, the harder she could make him fall.

As the man fell backward onto the hard ground, she put her hand on the back of his head so it wouldn’t slam onto the stone.

“Ouch!” she yelped when her hand became the cushion between the man’s head and the stone.

As the man lay on his back, she crushed her knee into his chest.

“You should thank me because I have some class. If I had stuck my leg out to trip you, you would have fallen facedown and lost all of your front teeth,” she said and then asked, “What could you possibly want to steal from a general store in the middle of a mountain?”

His eyes were still dazed from the fall.

“Don’t hurt me.” He pulled out a bunch of paper money from his pocket. “You can take this back to them.”

“Goddamn it, was this worth it, you idiot?” The stack of cash in his hand didn’t even add up to a hundred dollars.

As she let go of him, he scrambled up to his feet.

“I’m on my last drop of gas, and I need to get to the next town for a job. I need that job.”

“Wouldn’t it have been simpler to fill up at the gas station and just take off without paying?”

“They have security cameras at the stations. I’m in a hurry, and I can’t afford to have a rap sheet. Look, I know you don’t believe me, but I’ll repay the store after I get some cash from the job.”

She knew he was lying, and there was more to what he was saying. But she recognized his desperation and his need for a chance without being able to explain why. She had been there a few times. And during those times, she had help.

But there was no excuse for thievery. Period.

Footsteps sounded behind them. The people chasing him from the store were getting close.

“Push me.” She braced herself.

“What?” The man’s voice was low and hollow.

“Push me against the fence.”

“Thanks,” he said and pushed her to the fence, then charged away.

Several people rushed over. Someone reached out to help her up.

“Ivy!”

She looked up at the person giving her a hand. It was her friend, Detective Liam Jones.

She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. “Thanks, Liam. Here’s the money he took from the store.”

“You let him go?”

“No. He gave me the money and then shoved me.”

Liam narrowed his eyes. “You’re the best security agent in the region and a martial arts champion. You’re telling me that little thief pushed you into the fence and got away?”

She shrugged. “Shit happens.”

Liam glanced at the bruise on her hand. “Jesus. He really hurt you! Let me see.”

“I’m okay. Next time I see him, he’ll be the one with the bruises. What are you doing here, Liam? I thought you were at the crime scene.”

Liam gestured toward a man in his fifties who was rushing toward them. “Owner of the store.”

Ivy smiled as the man approached and gave him the cash. “I got your money back, but he got away.”

“Thank you, Detective. Thank you so much.”

“I’m not the detective. He is.” She pointed at Liam.

“Sorry, I thought you two were the detective team. They always work in pairs.”

Ivy chuckled. “You watch too much TV.”

“But we are indeed a team today, Mr. Marsh.” Liam gestured at her. “Ms. Javernick is the expert police consultant.”

Mr. March grinned. “You’ll need a lot of experts for this case. You know, you never hear a peep from the Marigold cottage, and the next thing you know, there’s a supernatural murder inside.”

Ivy arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry, I assumed you—”

Liam reached out to shake hands with Mr. Marsh. “Thank you for your help today. I haven’t yet informed Ms. Javernick about the case.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her away. In a few seconds, they were clear of the general store crowd.

“You can take your arm off my shoulders now, Liam. And if you don’t have a good explanation for what’s going on, I’m going to hurt you. You didn’t say anything about a supernatural murder when you called me.”

“I didn’t want you to say no, Ivy. I know you don’t take supernatural clients, but you know the supernaturals. And it would be a great help to me if you could take a look. I want this case, but I might have bitten off more than I can chew. When my boss asked if I needed a partner on this case, I said no. I’m coming up for a promotion opportunity, and it’s not good for me to share a caseload.”

Ivy knew exactly what was going on. But more importantly, she knew she didn’t have a poker face, so she had to continue to play dumb.

Nathan, her business partner, needed her to clear Clara Thompson’s death of supernatural causes and from Light Source. She had asked the cleaner who discovered the body to leave Liam an anonymous tip about the death with enough clues to suggest that there might be some unexplained phenomena involved.

She was the only expert adviser Liam had when it came to supernatural matters, so she knew he would call her and ask for her help—and she would graciously accept.

She jabbed a finger into his chest. “You owe me one.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Calling the Marigold a cottage was a misnomer. The gigantic six-bedroom house was built into the slope of a secluded hillside. It took a good five minutes to reach the door from the fence via a white gravel path that cascaded down the hill alongside a manicured garden.

Without the police presence, this would have been a tranquil heaven on Earth.

As they walked past the yellow police tape around the scene, Liam touched her shoulder lightly.

“I scanned the scene of the crime before going to the general store to survey for information. Officers aren’t allowed inside the tape right now, but the crime lab will be here soon. What’s inside is quite disturbing. Are you okay with going in?”

“I’ve seen dead bodies before, Liam.”

“I swear to you, not like this.”

She looked into his soft green eyes. She knew he genuinely cared about her. He had no idea how many horrific deaths she had witnessed in the supernatural world. He didn’t know she had been trained in martial arts and dark magic rituals even before she could walk and talk. She had grown up alongside the mages. She didn’t have a choice. But Liam had a choice to be involved in the supernatural world or not. And she was determined to keep her very few human friends clear of the supernatural.

She smiled at him. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

“You won’t be traumatized?”

“Only one way to find out. But if you’re worried about it, why did you ask me to come in the first place?”

“I—”

“Don’t have a choice, have no other contacts, need this case solved, and have full confidence in Ivy. Is that what you were going to say?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shook his head and gestured toward the bedroom wing.

Death by supernatural force was always violent. But Liam was right. No human would have seen anything like this before.

Clara Thompson floated a foot above a luxurious king-size bed. Her dead eyes were open, filled with the horror of the last thing she’d seen before death. It hadn’t been a peaceful death, but there was no sign of a struggle.

The handle of a dagger protruded from her heart. Blood had spilled onto her red silk dress and dripped to the bed below. Her hand rested on the hilt of the dagger. Her neck was savaged with bite marks, the jugular on her left side torn open.

Ivy stood at the edge of the bed and leaned in slightly to see the bite marks more clearly. She tried to catch the scent of the bites because they were the only physical traces left on the body.

The body dropped to the bed as if the force holding it up had suddenly let go. 

Ivy jerked back. “I didn’t touch it.”

“I know, Ivy.” Liam leaned forward to get a better look at the part of the dagger not obscured by Clara’s hand still clinging to it.

“At least this scene will be easier for you to explain to the crime lab when they get here. I can’t imagine what they’d say if they saw a floating dead body.”

“So, what do you think?”

Ivy considered how to respond to that. Nathan wanted her here to steer the investigation away from supernatural causes. However, she had manipulated her way into this crime scene, expecting that this was not a crime committed by a sick and twisted human criminal but rather the work of the darkest kind of magic of a supernatural killer.

Addressing her lack of response, Liam rolled up on the balls of his feet. “My naked human eyes tell me that she didn’t kill herself, even though her hand is on the hilt of the dagger. She frequently used this room when she stayed here. Her journal on the desk suggests that she’s left-handed, but the angle of the knife doesn’t fit with a left-handed person.”

He’s good, Ivy thought to herself, given he couldn’t see what she saw.

The scent from the bite wounds was strong, as if something were trying to turn Clara into a supernatural with the bites. 

But why would something bite her to turn her and then kill her with a dagger?

“Ivy?”

She cleared her throat. “I’ve seen the carving on the dagger before. I’ll dig around for information on that if you like.”

“Of course, please.”

“Can I snap a picture?”

“Go for it.”

She used her cell phone to take a picture of the hilt of the dagger, although she didn’t really need to do so. Not because she had a photographic memory but because the dagger wasn’t the main clue. The bite marks were. And she hadn’t decided how to break the news to Liam—or if she would.

“So, this is obviously a supernatural gig, right?”

She hated to do this to Liam, but she needed to bide time. “It’s inconclusive. Someone with extensive knowledge about the supernatural world could have staged this. And if we fall for it, then we might be running in the wrong direction.”

“Fair enough. What do you need to draw a final conclusion about supernatural involvement?”

“I’ll start with the dagger.”

“What about the bite marks? Can you tell what kind they are?”

“Your crime lab will process that. You can see with your human eyes that they’re fang marks. When we determine what kind of fangs, human or animal, we can build on that.”

She hadn’t lied. Because of the severity of the bites, she couldn’t tell if they were vampire bites, wolf bites, or something else. But the type of supernatural bites wasn’t what was important. The intention behind the bites was the key. And no human crime lab was going to be able to figure that out.

She approached the desk where Clara’s journal was opened. “Was the journal open like this when you came in here?”

Liam chuckled. “Oh no, it would be an obvious setup if that were the case. Please don’t judge me when I tell you this. I was just doing my job. I went through Clara’s night bag and found the journal.”

Ivy smiled. “No judgment. We’re just doing our jobs.” She touched the lock on the leather cover.

“I couldn’t find the key, so I had to pick the lock because I wanted to see what was inside before the crime lab got here.”

Ivy chuckled. “I’m not judging you at all, Liam.”

She flipped through a few pages. She wasn’t reading the words but trying to catch the scent of anything other than the perfume coming from the expensive paper.

A photo was glued to one of the pages, surrounded by a floral frame and hand-drawn hearts.

She had seen the man in the photo before.

It was Mr. Tall Blue Eyes, the man she had met outside Little Bean this morning.

The picture didn’t do him justice.

The eyes in the picture weren’t as striking as his eyes in real life. And the photo didn’t reflect how tall he was or the dark, angelic face he had. It definitely couldn’t reflect that a body that God created when he was in a very good mood lay hidden underneath his expensive European suit.

Liam peeked at the picture from behind her. “That’s Killian LeBlanc.”

“Who?”

“Ivy, do you even live on Earth, let alone Australia? The LeBlancs are one of the richest and most elite families in our current society.”

“Let’s see if he claims my dry-cleaning offer,” she muttered absently.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I was just thinking that dry cleaning the suit he’s wearing would cost a week of my salary.”

Liam chuckled. “Well, we aren’t so unfortunate to have to pay for that.”

“Nah.” She snorted. “What kind of business are he and his family in?”

“Technology and pharmaceuticals. But that’s just a facade. I’m sure you know that. Only insiders see the real deal.”

She pointed to the page. “Given how many hearts she gave him, I’d say she was head over heels for this guy.”

As soon as she brushed her fingers on the text on the page, a force struck her, making her stagger back several steps. It was like being hit by lightning.

“Ivy! Ivy!” At first, Liam’s voice echoed from the darkness, but then things became clear again. 

She found herself on her knees next to the bed.

“I told you this scene would be too much for you.”

She shook her head, stood, and regained her footing. “I’m just hungry. I’m fine now.”

Liam narrowed his eyes, but before he said anything further, the crime lab arrived at the door and donned their lab gear.

“I guess you have to be here with them, Liam. I’ll go get something to eat. Then I’ll do some digging. Can I call you tonight?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she said as she walked out. “There’s nothing good food won’t fix.”

She rushed out to the sidewalk and pulled out her cell phone to call Nathan.

He picked up on the first ring.

“It’s not good news, I’m afraid. This death was caused by the supernatural. There’s no way to lie about it to the client. The rumbling about dark magic returning to the city? I can confirm that it’s no longer a rumor.”

CHAPTER 3

The last bar of battery life on Ivy’s cell phone blinked and then died in front of her.

She looked at the shop’s assistant at the checkout, who was holding the grocery bag, waiting for Ivy to scan the payment on her cell phone.

Ivy grinned. “Sorry, my phone just died on me. But I’ve got cash. People don’t use cash much these days. But I’m old-school.” She reached for her wallet in the back pocket of her jeans. “Son of a bitch!”

The thief she had done a favor for and let go this afternoon must have taken off with her wallet.

She didn’t know what embarrassed her more—the fact that she let him steal from her or that she didn’t have the means to feed Pixy now after picking her up at the dog school.

“I’m sorry. I must have dropped my wallet somewhere.” She left the store, grabbed the leash, and led Pixy away on the sidewalk.

“I’ll get you some food, Pixy. Don’t give me those puppy eyes.”

That was lame. Pixy wasn’t giving her puppy eyes for lack of food. Ivy was just annoyed at herself. She needed to go to Light Source to talk to Nathan. And it was too late to go to a bank for some cash. She didn’t have any ID on her to show the bank anyway.

She made a mental note to give the thief more than bruises the next time she met him. If she ever saw him again.

Light Source was only a block away from the grocery store. It didn’t take her long to get there, with Pixy happily trotting along by her side. The high-rise was lit up. She loved the sight of the building at night. She liked to look down at the city from the Light Source windows on level twenty-seven.

“Hi, Pete,” she said and waved at the building’s night-shift receptionist.

“Hi, Ivy. Working late again?”

“I don’t have much of a choice.” She used the leash to signal Pixy to approach Pete. 

Pixy went over and gave Pete a paw shake in front of a sign that read, No pets allowed in the building.

Pete rubbed Pixy behind her ears. “Good dog.” Then he motioned Ivy and Pixy toward the elevator bank.

This wasn’t the first time she had brought Pixy to this building. She knew the nighttime shift workers, and she knew who loved pets. It didn’t matter what the rules said.

“Be careful, Ivy.” Pete leaned forward, watching her as she waited for the elevator.

“Careful of what?”

She had let the thief take her last dollar. Her phone was so out of date that the battery never lasted longer than her breakfast. And she was bringing her business partner news he didn’t want to hear. Her night couldn’t get any worse.

“Lots of things have been happening around here lately.”

“Isn’t that part of the Melbourne city lifestyle? Vibrant. The city that never sleeps.”

He shook his head. “Did you hear about the guy who ran over a couple of pedestrians with his car last week?”

“Yes, tragic accident.”

“Yeah, it’s weird. He came in a few minutes before and asked to park in the building. He thought it wasn’t safe to drive in the city. The next thing I knew, he drove like a maniac, killing people on the sidewalk. He didn’t look like he was on drugs, or drunk, or in any kind of trouble when I spoke to him. He was just like Nathan.”

Ivy walked back to the reception counter. “What do you mean, like Nathan?”

“Formal. Serious. Wearing a business suit and all. I don’t get it.” Pete lowered his voice. “When I saw the footage on the news, he looked like a man possessed. White eyes. Hollow. Like he was dead. No drug can make someone go from normal to that in five minutes.”

“Oh, trust me, Pete. Drugs can take effect faster than that.”

“But this was different. Something otherworldly.”

“I suppose you meant the last part metaphorically.”

He locked eyes with her. “I believe in what you believe, Ivy.”

So now she was a supernatural sympathizer. That would be handy.

“Thanks for understanding what we’re doing.”

“Anytime you need my assistance, let me know. And keep this sweetheart around, Ivy. Dogs are sensitive to weird things. If she senses something is off, she’ll let you know.” Pete rubbed Pixy’s head again.

The elevator pinged, and the door slid open.

“I’ll be careful. Same to you, Pete. As always, thanks for letting Pixy come inside.”

The elevator rose and then opened to a polished marble corridor that led to the head office of Light Source.

The rent for this office was a big expense, and Nathan had to fight every month to keep the space. She wasn’t ignorant of his efforts. She didn’t think it was important, but for Nathan, keeping up business appearances was important to hold on to the crème de la crème of clientele.

Well, that was until Light Source couldn’t keep their clients alive. No swanky office would make up for that.

Nathan sank deep into his chair at the desk when she walked in. He looked to be in his thirties, but he was an experienced mage, and no one but him had the capability to run a business that straddled the paranormal world and the human world.

Ivy didn’t know Nathan’s real age. He seemed to have been around forever.

She sat down on the chair opposite him and unleashed Pixy. The husky took residence on Nathan’s reading chair in a corner of the room, making Nathan cringe.

“We’re in deep shit, Nathan,” she said. “I don’t think we can get out of compensation to the client this time.”

“I won’t bore you with the precise numbers. But can you recall a time we needed to compensate a client for a failed job?”

“Nope. Not during my time. That’s why I asked you.”

He locked eyes with her. “This will financially end Light Source.”

“This is a centuries-old company, and you’re saying one failed job could undo us?”

He sank deeper into his chair. “I can’t blame you. You’re young, and you were thrown into the deep end of your family business. We are the only mage-owned security company in the region.”

“That part, I know. We’re the only and the best. But it’s a risky business, so surely we have insurance.”

Nathan chuckled. “Lucky you didn’t get the MBA, or we’d be arguing all night. Yes, we do everything by the books. But it’s an ancient rule, more like a tradition in this line of work, that we can’t insure against our strongest value. We protect clients against supernatural death. That’s why we can’t insure against it.”

She nodded. “Like if you’re selling burgers, you can’t insure against your ability to make the burgers. But you can protect your business against any other sources of risks.”

Nathan shrugged.

“There has to be a precedent. You can’t say we haven’t had a single incident where we failed to protect the client in hundreds of years in operation.”

“I didn’t say that, Ivy.”

She paced the floor. “I don’t understand. If it has happened before, why can’t we do what has been done before in a similar situation?”

“Let’s just say there are two options. But only one that is palatable for me. And that’s to compensate the client. Trust me, if I can’t tolerate the other option, you won’t be able to.”

“But we don’t have the money to compensate the client without going into bankruptcy. You said that.”

He pulled out a stack of books from the filing cabinet and put it on his shiny desk. “It scales by the size of the client’s account. The Thompsons are not only our biggest client, but they also pay for our whole package of services, ranging from security to delivery. So yes, compensating the Thompsons will finish our company financially. We can always declare bankruptcy. Wait until the penalty period is over and then restart the company.”

She stared out of the twenty-seventh-floor window down to the vibrant city of Melbourne. People went about their business. Her family had lived here for centuries, serving and protecting clients in this region. It could all end with her. As a matter of principle, a break from the business was not an option.

But what choice did she have?

“If you want to help out, there’s a solution.”

She turned and stared at Nathan. “Go on. Hit me.”

He pushed a folder toward her on the desktop. “This new client specifically requested your service.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I take all clients except supernaturals and immoral humans. Which one of those is this client?”

“The former. The job is a simple, short-term contract. But the money will solve the financial problems we have this year.”

“What’s the catch?”

“There is no catch. The client needs your tracking ability. It’s a search-and-locate job. You don’t even have to deliver.”

“What’s the object I’m searching for?”

“A potion. In the Northern National Park. Mage territory.”

“Sounds too good to be true. I mean, tracking is what I do. There has to be a catch.”

Nathan braced his elbows on the arms of his chair. “It is that good of a job. The problem I have, and the reason I’m reluctant to give it to you, is the client himself. He’s a shifter. A werewolf, to be precise.”

“Ah, and I thought it was just my family who’s against the wolves.”

Nathan chuckled. “I wish I didn’t have to hear the do-not-work-with-werewolves discussion at every family gathering.”

She traced her fingertips along the polished wood panels of the desk. “I’m sure I can make an exception to work with the shapeshifter. It’s a bit of a pain for me but minimal effort to solve such a large problem for us…”

Nathan flipped open the folder.

There it was, inside the folder. Déjà vu.

“Killian LeBlanc.” She didn’t realize she had said it out loud.

“I didn’t know you followed business news.”

“Trust me, I don’t. But I’ve seen this face three times today. Once at a café in the morning. Now that I think about it, he might have been stalking me at the café. And that’s not cool. The second time I saw him—or rather, his picture—was in Clara’s journal. It seemed like she thought of him as more than a college crush. Not that I know they went to college together, or even went to college at all. Unlike us commoners, the rich and privileged would have had their own private school. So I might have to pass on this one. And why am I speaking nonsense?”

“You’re nervous?”

“Why would I be?” She shuddered, remembering the shock she felt when she touched the page in Clara’s journal. She had no way to tell if the shock had come from the picture, the words, the ink, or the journal itself.

“So you’re not going to take the job?”

“I better not.”

He closed the folder and pushed it closer to her. “Look,” he said, “why don’t you take this with you and think about it.”

She jerked back when he pushed the folder too close to her hand. She wasn’t afraid of a little energy jolt. But that didn’t mean she liked it. She didn’t have to tell Nathan about how her protective spell had snapped when he approached her that morning or how the paper with his picture on it almost zapped her brains out.

Nathan didn’t need to know those incidents because that would lead to her family secrets.

***

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