“You’re obviously not going back to your apartment tonight,” Wade said.

He’d already notified the coven of what had happened at my place, and we were waiting for our food order at Wong’s, a local Chinese restaurant with red-and-gold wallpaper and one too many paper lanterns hanging overhead. It wasn’t too busy at this hour, but there was always a bit of time to burn while waiting for the freshly made spring rolls and fried rice. This place was a hidden gem.

“Yeah, I figured that much.” I sighed, fiddling with a pair of chopsticks. “But my rent’s paid up. I will go back at some point. I guess I’ll be staying at the coven for a few days, after all.”

“You should put in your notice, still,” Wade offered. “You’re much safer in the coven. You might even end up liking it better than that apartment. Plus, it’s rent-free.”

“I’m not letting a bunch of gargoyles drive me out of my first real home,” I replied, then chuckled softly. “Wow, I never thought I’d say something like that.”

Wade smirked. “Welcome to the real world.”

I was seeing a slightly different side of him. Brave, noble, and protective Wade Crowley. He’d swooped in and saved me—but only because I had felt overwhelmed. I’d barely known how to handle one gargoyle, not to mention three. It seemed those preceptors were going to help me fill in a lot of gaps, with knowledge that made the difference between a living Harley and a dead-as-a-doornail Harley.

Wade’s phone beeped, a text message showing up on the screen. I couldn’t see who it was from at that angle, so I raised my eyebrows at him.

“It’s Santana,” he said, quickly glancing over the text. “She wants to know if you’re okay.”

“That’s… sweet,” I replied. Santana was one of the few magicals who didn’t look at me with wariness, just curiosity.

“She wants you to know there’s a room ready for you at the coven,” Wade added, re-reading the text with a slight frown. “She made sure it’s right next to hers.”

“She strong-armed Alton?” I chuckled.

“No.” He sighed. “Knowing Santana, she probably messed with the architecture, and forcibly relocated one of her neighboring magicals. She’s very determined by nature. The laws of physics don’t have much of an impact on her decisions.”

“I’ve noticed there’s a competitive spirit in the San Diego Coven,” I said slowly. “Especially where you and Garrett are concerned. What’s up with that?”

Wade was caught off guard by the question. I felt his anxiousness and disdain coming through, all of it aimed at Garrett.

“It’s nothing personal.” He shrugged. “Garrett’s not a Mediocre, but he sure likes to act like one, unless it involves making me look bad. He’s lazy, and rarely have I seen him perform at full capacity—which can border on jaw-dropping, once he lets loose. He’s truly spectacular. But he’s got a bad mouth on him, and he’s not particularly adept at the thinking part. You know, prior to speaking. And that just enables brats like Finch and Poe to think it’s okay to be absolute jerks. The difference is that Garrett gets away with a lot of crap because of his parents. His mom runs the San Francisco Coven, and his dad is on the Texas Mage Council. They’re divorced and spoil Garrett as a result.”

“Why is he in San Diego, then? Why isn’t he with his mom, or his dad?” I replied, a clearer picture of Garrett forming in my head.

“I know for a fact that Garrett got on the wrong side of the San Francisco Coven, and his mom had to transfer him here, but nobody knows the details. Except for Alton, and he won’t tell,” Wade said. “Alton hates gossip. Which is funny, because it’s been a defining trait of this coven for years. He’s hoping to fix that. Well, he’s hoping to fix a lot of things, but I’m not sure how much he’ll get done in this lifetime.”

“What about you? What brought you to the San Diego Coven?” I asked, realizing I wasn’t all that interested in Garrett’s backstory. He came across as the rich, arrogant bully who never got in too much trouble, despite his blatant misdemeanors. He was also an enabler of Finch’s toxic behavior, and that had almost gotten me in hot water. It was better if I just kept my distance from that group. Wade, on the other hand, had captured my interest, in more than one way, and reading his emotions didn’t feel like enough.

“I came here five years ago, around the same time as Garrett, but of my own volition,” Wade replied.

“Why? I mean, from what you’re all telling me, the San Diego Coven isn’t exactly illustrious.”

“It isn’t, but it has potential,” he explained. “Halifax was running the show when I got here, and we didn’t get along very well. I raised flags with the Mage Council, and eventually had him removed. I believe that the magical society is only as good as its lowest-rated coven, and San Diego is very close to the bottom line. I took it as a challenge, and I’ve been working to improve it ever since.”

I grinned. “So, you are eyeing a leadership position in the future.”

“It would be foolish not to.” Wade cocked his head to the side, a smile flickering across his face. “Alton won’t live forever, and I am of noble descent, after all. My name means something in this world, and I’m expected to achieve great things—which, of course, I intend to do.”

“Oh, noble descent!” I said, feigning a British accent. “Shall I call you Sire?”

He didn’t immediately respond. Instead, his deep green eyes drilled through me, while I sensed amusement and pride emanating from him. “Have you ever heard of Aleister Crowley, Harley?”

“The name rings a bell.”

Given my murky state of mind after the gargoyle attack, my synapses weren’t functioning as smoothly as I would’ve wanted. The name did sound familiar, but, for the life of me, I couldn’t find its origins.

“He was a famed English occultist in the first half of the twentieth century,” Wade said, as I started remembering what I’d read on the subject. “His public life, the one known to humans, that is, was mostly a hoax. He founded a religion, experimented with drugs, and fathered three children. He’s known mostly for his writings.”

“But the magical world remembers him differently?”

Wade nodded. “Beyond the façade of the ceremonial magician, ‘the wickedest man in the world’ was, in fact, one of the most accomplished warlocks in modern history. He dedicated his life to portraying that whimsical, dysfunctional man, while his surviving children continued his work. He lived during a time when wars were tearing through our world, and magicals were risking exposure, particularly in times of such disputes between nations.”

“Why were war times extra risky?” I asked, struggling to make a connection to the history I knew.

“There were magicals who sought to profit from their presence on the battlefield.” He shook his head in disdain. “The World Wars weren’t just a matter of humans versus humans. We had to get involved, too, trying to protect our society from discovery, because of those terrible few. Crowley’s persona did the job and managed to discredit many who tried to come forward as magicals.”

“I take it you’re related to Aleister Crowley, then?” And happy to brag about it…

“Lola, one of his daughters, was my great-grandmother. I never met her, though,” Wade replied. “You’ll learn all about the Crowleys in your Coven History class, but just to finish my point here: yes, I am related to him. And yes, I plan to continue honoring the name as best as I can. Though, I’m not a fan of such theatrical deceit as Aleister Crowley’s.”

“Yeah, you don’t strike me as charismatic enough to pull off such a persona.” I giggled. For a second, I worried he might’ve gotten offended, judging by his straight face. But all I was getting from him was a gentle chuckle on the inside. “What about your parents?”

“My mother is the director of the Houston Coven, and my father is on the Texas Mage Council,” he replied, a tinge of pride in his tone.

“Ah, that’s why you know about Garrett’s troubled past.”

“My father is friends with Garrett’s dad, although he avoids telling me any interesting secrets,” Wade said, and I could sense he felt sorry for Garrett, in a way. There was probably more to this story, but I was too tired and shaken to pursue it further. Dinner first, then hot shower, then sleep. Maybe five more minutes and our food would be ready. I could already smell the fried rice from the kitchen.

“So, about the points system,” I said, trying to sort the various questions in my mind by order of importance.

“If we manage to increase our score by the end of this year, it’ll pave the way for next year’s efforts. Once we start getting the bonuses, the other covens won’t look down on us anymore,” Wade said. “The bottom line is that this coven deserves better funding. Our magicals are good people, just jaded and undervalued.”

“How does the scoring work, though?” I asked. “What’s the criteria? Save a cat from a tree, get ten points? Park illegally, lose five?”

He smirked. “Something like that. The greater the deed, the higher the number of points awarded to the coven. We run a number of missions, mostly focused on discovering and registering new magicals, educating the ones we get in, maintaining the secrecy of our society, and helping humans when rogue magicals attempt to hurt or influence their world.”

“How would a magical influence the human world? I mean, other than standing on top of the Empire State Building and announcing a new world order?”

“Some sneak into government and military positions. Out of all the spells and potions we’ve gathered over eons, the one thing we don’t have is a ‘magical detector’ of sorts. We rely on investigation and observation. We cannot feel other magicals. If you put a magical in a room full of people, he won’t be able to point out other magicals unless he pays attention and catches them while performing spells. I hold hope that someday we will come up with such a spell, but until then, it’s good ol’ fashioned detective work for the covens to identify new magicals. To be honest, most of the time it’s easy. As children, we have little to no control over our abilities. Accidents happen.”

“What about Adley de la Barthe? She did that Reading on me. Can’t you work on mainstreaming that particular process?”

“She is working on something, but the Reading requires the subject’s consent. You were reluctant, for example, but eventually allowed her to Read your blood. If you were to adamantly say no, she wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. She’s researching ways to bypass that, but it takes time and plenty of tests. With sufficient funding, Adley might find a detection method within the next decade.”

The bell above the main entrance door jingled, prompting both Wade and me to turn our heads. To my surprise and, based on what I was feeling, Wade’s, too, Garrett walked in. He was absently swiping through his phone as he headed toward the counter. He looked up, his lips stretching into a grin as he saw us.

“Crap.” Wade watched as Garrett made his way between several tables to stop by ours, first. Only then did I notice sadness, somewhere deep inside him. Using logic and the information I’d gathered so far, I understood why. Their dads were friends; it stood to reason that Wade and Garrett had once been friends, too. Something had clearly changed, to put them at such opposite poles now. Something Wade felt sorry about.

“Funny running into you two here,” Garrett said, though he didn’t sound amused. I really disliked not being able to feel him. He narrowed his eyes at Wade. “I see you didn’t waste any time trying to get into the new girl’s pants.”

“Watch your mouth, Garrett. This is human territory, and you don’t want to set her off,” Wade warned him, and I wasn’t sure whether I should feel flattered or offended. For the first time ever—and much to my surprise—I decided to keep my mouth shut and watch their dynamic unfold.

“So, what, I’m not interrupting a date?” Garrett raised an eyebrow at me.

I simply shook my head in response, ignoring the flames in my cheeks. My stomach tightened, but that wasn’t me. That was Wade.

“No, we’re just waiting for food,” Wade replied. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard yet.”

“Heard what?” Garrett frowned, his gaze darting between Wade and me.

“There was another gargoyle attack,” Wade said. “Three of them came after Harley in her apartment.”

I showed him the smoky jar on the table, next to the condiments basket. His jaw nearly dropped, his eyes wide with shock.

“Only one made it,” I added. “We had to kill the other two before they hurt people.”

“Are you okay?” Garrett looked at me, sounding concerned. I didn’t see that coming, so all I managed to think of in response was a shrug. He then scowled at Wade. “Why wasn’t I notified?”

“I don’t know,” Wade replied, slightly amused. “I texted Alton about it. He decides who is privy to this information.”

“And you didn’t think to call me, too? You know, since I’m leading the investigative team? Or are you that jealous that you’re willing to sabotage the actual investigation just to spite me?” Garrett spat.

“Tone it down, Sherlock. I’m sure Alton will call you soon enough,” Wade said. His fingers tapped the wooden surface of the table in no particular rhythm, but his rings were giving off a faint, warm white glow. I wasn’t sure what that meant, given how little I knew about an Esprit, but I had trouble looking away—the delicate light cast elegant shadows over his long, piano-player fingers. “It happened less than half an hour ago.”

As if summoned, Garrett’s phone rang, and I caught a glimpse of Alton’s name on the screen before he picked up. “Yes, sir?”

“Sir?” I mouthed, looking at Wade with slight confusion. Garrett had been quite disrespectful earlier during the assembly, so “sir” sounded alien coming out of his mouth. Wade stifled a grin, as he patiently waited for Garrett to finish his phone call. I found myself fascinated by the fine line forming at the corner of Wade’s mouth whenever he smiled. He didn’t have Garrett’s dimpled cuteness. There was something more mature and… masculine about his expression.

I shook the thought out of my head, then shifted my focus back to Garrett, who was still listening to Alton’s instructions.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that, then,” he replied, then hung up and gave us both a sheepish smile, dimples and all. “So, yeah, I’ve just been informed there was a gargoyle attack at Park West. I trust you’ll have the full report ready tonight, Crowley.”

“It might come as a shock to you, but some of us actually do our jobs in this coven. So, yes, Garrett, you’ll get your report in a couple of hours, tops. I just need to debrief Harley,” Wade replied bluntly.

“No need. I can debrief her,” Garrett retorted, then gave me another one of those winks that I didn’t quite get. “Over drinks, later? There’s a great bar just around the corner from the science center. Ditch this loser first, though,” he added, nodding at Wade.

“You’re just a bundle of messed-up, dysfunctional crazy, aren’t you?” I said in response, befuddled by his contradictory remarks. Did he hate me, or was he asking me out? Not being able to feel his emotions made it very difficult for me to ascertain his true intentions.

“Probably, but you’re gorgeous, and I’d like to take you out for a drink. Hopefully, you’ll give me a chance to apologize for being a jerk earlier,” Garrett replied, putting on a charming smile. And it was working. Why was it working?!

I looked at Wade, and anger poured through my veins. A couple minutes more of this and I feared I’d end up breaking up a fight between these two.

“That’s very… nice, and unexpected, of you,” I mumbled. “But I think we should—”

“You either debrief us both or I debrief her and give you my notes, along with my account of the event,” Wade replied, his voice low and cold enough to send chills down my spine. “Either works, provided you wish to prove to Alton that you’re a professional and not busy chasing skirts.”

“Whoa,” I gasped, my face flushed.

Tension crackled between them, and somehow, I was caught in the middle of it. However, I didn’t take kindly to being called a “skirt,” especially not in that bubbling sea of testosterone. And I had a bad habit of making rash decisions on impulse when annoyed—which didn’t even begin to cover my state at that point.

Given that we were in a public space and I’d already drawn enough attention to myself earlier, while jumping out the window of my apartment, a more discreet solution to end this ridiculous standoff was needed.

“You know what?” I said, suddenly enlightened. “No one’s getting into my pants, and no one’s chasing this skirt, either. Garrett, sure, I’ll go out for a drink with you, but not tonight. It’s been a long freaking day and I just need to sleep, after I eat. Wade, you need to debrief me tonight, and I need to stuff my face with spring rolls and fried rice. So let’s get moving.” I stood, pointing at the restaurant counter, where our order had just been bagged. “Food’s ready.”

I then walked over to the clerk, who smiled at us as he handed over the food. Wade followed, without saying anything, but I could feel the shame and anger boiling inside him. He knew he’d messed up, his mouth talking without him, but he couldn’t concede in front of Garrett. He was probably saving the apology for later.

We left Garrett, who was staring at me with a mixture of shock and amusement, behind. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said he was impressed, somehow. Maybe other girls just swooned over him and tolerated his snappy retorts, but I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction.

The main reason I’d accepted his invitation for drinks was to try and gather some intel from the investigative team. I had a personal interest in the gargoyles now. I also wanted to annoy Wade a little for referring to me as a “skirt.” And that had worked like a charm. At the same time, I requested that Wade debrief me because I wanted to hit Garrett where it hurt most—in the investigative team. If my assumptions about him were correct, he’d yet to realize that sure, he got to go out with me, but missed out on the opportunity to debrief me in an official capacity.

Hm, guess Mrs. Smith was right. Men can only think with one brain at a time.

“You have the makings of a deviant,” Wade said in a low tone as we stepped outside, and I passed him the food bags in return for the jar.

He knew exactly what I’d done, and I didn’t know whether I should fear future retaliation or take it as a compliment. Wade could be very confusing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road ahead.

The sound of cars driving by hurt my very soul, as I remembered the state of my Daisy, back at Park West. I’d worked hard to get her in driving shape. I’d bought her from a secondhand dealership, and she was barely running at the time, choking whenever I switched gears. All it took was one big-ass, vengeful gargoyle to render her useless.

Wade’s Jeep was parked just another block ahead, between two bland sedans. There was no sign of its scuffle with the gargoyle back at the casino. Good mechanic… It stood out like a black metal giant, which seemed emblematic of Wade’s personality somehow. I stole a glance at him, just as he turned his head to steal one at me, and our eyes met for an awkward second.

“Come on, get in,” Wade said, looking away, suddenly cold and distant. He clicked his key fob and the Jeep let out a double beep, its doors unlocking. “We still have a lot to do before tomorrow.”

“Can I eat in the car?” I asked, my stomach pulling my sleeve.

He scowled at me as we got in. “Would you let anyone eat in your car?”

I thought about it, and he was right. I would’ve blown a fuse if someone wanted to eat hot Chinese food in my Daisy. “Sorry, never mind,” I said, looking down. “But you’ll have to put up with my stomach growling louder than a gargoyle.”

“That’s cool,” Wade replied, then turned the radio on, and the volume up.

A heavy metal song blared through the speakers. Yeah, my stomach didn’t stand a chance with that noise. I gave Wade another sideways glance and noticed the muscle twitching in his jaw as he twisted his key in the ignition.

He was definitely annoyed, maybe even upset.

I understood then that the “deviant” part wasn’t meant as a compliment. I’d upset him by choosing to go out with Garrett, but he was conflicted because I’d also given him the task of my debriefing.

And he really didn’t like being conflicted.

“Can you try and turn the Empathy off when I’m around?”

From the sound of his voice, he was also still irritated by my ability. He couldn’t hide from me. I almost felt sorry for him, while stifling a grin as I pressed my lips tight.

“I usually do, but I can’t shut it off entirely. I still get whiffs of emotions here and there. But my system’s all upside down after the assembly today. I need to sleep it off.”

“I kindly ask that you try, nonetheless. It’s extremely uncomfortable to be around you, otherwise.”

Oh, ouch.

Yeah, I’d pushed the wrong buttons on the guy. Did I feel sorry, though? Or did I find his anguish amusing?

Food for thought, right after the spring rolls and fried rice.