We loaded the jars into the back of Wade’s Jeep. My apartment was next on our to-do list. We left the fire trucks responding to the fire alarms behind, along with the church staff gawking at the damaged roof, as Wade shoved us in his Jeep and drove us up to Park West.

My stomach churned as we reached the scene of yesterday’s attack—and my home.

The police had already been there and cordoned off my poor mangled Daisy with their yellow caution tape. They’d also taped the windows to my apartment, and I could see the blackened ceiling from below. The place had definitely burned up a little before the sprinkler system went on.

The team repeated the cleanup operation from the casino, going into and around the apartment building to check with potential witnesses and flash them, altering their memories where needed. Santana and Raffe took the inside of the building, while Tatyana and Dylan handled the surrounding area, and Astrid got to work on modifying CCTV footage, as well as checking police and fire department records.

Wade had me wait outside, not wanting me to get a closer look at my wrecked apartment. He quickly regretted bringing me over at all, once he saw me tear up as I walked over to my Daisy. I ran my fingers along the edges of her bent hood. My car looked as though a giant cement ball had been dropped on her, pulling everything down in the middle. Glass crumbled beneath my boots as I moved closer and retrieved a little hand-painted world globe from the passenger seat.

It was my rearview mirror ornament, the only thing left intact after Murray the gargoyle’s crash landing. I used to look at it and dream of the places I’d visit in the near future. No car, no apartment… Clearly, travel plans will have to wait.

Wade’s hand settled on my shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low. I looked up to find his face surprisingly close to mine—enough to make me hold my breath for a second. He was worried.

“How can I be?” I sobbed, no longer able to hold it in. “My apartment was trashed. My car is done for. I’ve got gargoyles following me around like I’m prime beef walking. Of course I’m not okay.”

Not sure what to say, he kept his mouth shut. For about two seconds. “Material belongings of the human world aren’t all that valuable, Harley. They can all be easily replaced.”

“Easy for you to say, maybe,” I said, wiping my tears. “Daisy was my soul. Raucous and loud, sturdy and feisty. And now look at her. Not going to bother explaining that to you. Again.”

“Move on, Harley. There’s no point in dwelling on these things. The sooner you do that, the better you’ll feel,” Wade replied. He clearly didn’t understand where I was coming from, and I had to admit, it hurt a little. “With the money you’ll be making with the coven in the future, you’ll be able to afford a newer, better model, anyway.”

“What, as a research assistant in a library?” I said. “Are you kidding me?”

“That job is just to get you started in the coven and the magical society. I trust you’ll be able to work as a coven operative on a full-time basis once you take the pledge. But you’ll get nowhere if you cling to sentimental nonsense like this heap of trash,” he said, pointing at my Daisy.

“Don’t call her that!”

My hands balled into fists, and I could feel the anger coursing through me like a violent waterfall. Wade didn’t seem to care.

“It is what it is, Harley. This thing is going right into a junkyard. Get over it and worry more about why there are gargoyles following you around in the first place.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I replied, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms.

As much as I hated admitting it, Wade did have a point. A car was replaceable, no matter how much I loved my Daisy. My life, however, was one of a kind. And yes, there were gargoyles coming after me now, and I had no clue why.

“I can’t help but wonder, Harley, if there’s something from your past that you’re not telling me. Something that ties the gargoyles into this whole mess.”

“Huh? Like what? I thought you knew everything about me. Including my bra size,” I retorted, and instantly felt my throat burn—that was Wade’s utter embarrassment.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” he shot back. “Maybe you do know something about your parents, for example?”

“Oh, so now I’m a suspect or something?” I raised my voice, my hands trembling with anger.

The ground beneath us started to shake, like a mild earthquake. Wade stilled, his forehead smoothing as we both came to the same conclusion. I heard people gasping as they came to a halt on the street. Tires screeched close by, as the entire neighborhood felt the shudder of my Elemental burst.

“Maybe I should try and calm down.”

“You should calm down,” he said at the same time.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

A minute later, the earth stopped shaking. Wade and I stared at each other—he was in awe of me, I could feel it. “I went overboard, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that we’ve never had these Bestiary issues before, and it’s eerie enough to coincide with the discovery of you. I can’t help but think that there might be a connection.”

“I honestly don’t know anything about my parents,” I replied. “I wish I did. I mean, even I’m thinking that the gargoyles might know something I don’t. Maybe they’re drawn to me for a specific reason that actually has to do with me, with who I really am. Then again, maybe I’m just tastier than the rest of you. I have zero input on this right now.”

“And without an Esprit, you clearly have little control over your abilities,” Wade concluded. “Your emotions are powerful enough to trigger them, though.”

“Which makes me say, once more, that this whole Mediocre thing is absolute BS!” Astrid called out from the stairs. She’d been listening this whole time. I’d completely forgotten about her. Wade’s fault.

Once the team reunited outside my apartment block, the cleanup job was complete. Santana, Raffe, Tatyana, and Dylan covered all the witnesses, and Astrid successfully altered everything we needed to make the story stick—a gas leak had resulted in an explosion, then a fire, followed by the sprinklers soaking everything. No one got hurt, other than Harley Smith. I was carried off to the hospital and discharged shortly after that. End of story.

It was more believable and easier to manage than a home invasion route. That would’ve brought more cops into the fold, and we wanted none. “I’ll give Alton a report tonight,” Wade said.

“Make sure you mention Poe’s sloppy work,” Santana said. “That boy could easily be classified as a liability to the coven. I don’t get why Alton let Garrett put him on the investigative team in the first place.”

“Either Alton is an idealist who thinks those schmucks will make something of themselves and actually help the coven, or he just let them play to appease their ultra-rich parents, and to then watch them crash and burn,” Raffe mused.

“I’m rooting for the latter,” Wade replied. “I refuse to believe Alton is gullible enough to think the likes of Poe, Garrett, and Finch might actually be good for the coven. He’s been here three years and broken up too many fights started by those idiots.”

“Meh, it’s not like we’ve been stellar performers, either.” Santana chuckled, hands in her pant pockets. Her curly hair gave her a very hip look, when paired with a dark gray pantsuit. She could’ve easily graced the cover of a fashion magazine, if she wanted. Judging by the warmth coming from Raffe, I wasn’t the only one appreciating her look.

“Speak for yourself,” Wade shot back. “My record is spotless.”

“Ugh, let’s grab some drinks at Waterfront Park,” Santana said, rolling her eyes as she walked over to Wade’s Jeep. “Another minute of Mr. Perfect here and I’ll unload my breakfast.”

“That would be a shame. Those scones were delicious,” Tatyana chimed in, amusement twinkling in her icy blue eyes.

“Unless you want to walk there, I’d suggest you jump off the ‘Insult Wade’ train,” Wade said, wiggling the keys.

After we left the Jeep in the Maritime Museum’s parking lot, we went back around to West Ash Street, on the south side of Waterfront Park. It didn’t look different. I was expecting something more magical.

“Out of all the places in the world, this is where you people like to hang out? This is basically Toddler Central,” I said, pointing at the groups of parents herding their children across the park. “What is it with magicals and kids’ playgrounds?”

We stopped in front of a glass refuge by the bus stop, a bland and nearly unnoticeable structure. There was a staircase leading downstairs to a public restroom. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said.

“Aperi Portam,” Wade said, then pushed through the door.

One by one, we joined him, and, just like my first incursion into the coven through the emergency door of Kid City, I realized that there was a whole other world hiding in Waterfront Park. I heard myself gasp at the sight unraveling before me. Elegant steel-and-glass cubes rose on both sides of the single wide alley ahead. This both was and wasn’t Waterfront Park, another interdimensional pocket. The human world was something akin to a lens flare, occasionally visible in the form of two-legged wisps—people walking through the park.

“Welcome to our Waterfront Park, home of some of our best nightclubs and craft-related stores,” Wade said.

This version looked a million times better. It offered views of the city and the ocean, beyond the tall crystal walls surrounding the interdimensional pocket. “There’s another exit on that side, leading to the Maritime Museum,” Wade added, pointing across the park. “I just wanted to show you this entrance first, for future reference.”

My mouth was wide open as I tried to take it all in—a plethora of stores, bookshops, cafés, and bars sprawled all over this alternate Waterfront Park, encased in a giant, glistening glass box. The sky was gloriously blue above, the sun smiling down at us as we moved forward. There were plenty of magicals out here, migrating from one venue to another.

An amalgam of words and giggles poured through from various terraces and cocktail bars, and I couldn’t stop my heart from fluttering. I’d never seen anything so different, so intriguing, and so damn stylish. It reminded me of the photos I’d seen of London’s Oxford Street and New York’s Soho areas, with flashy signs and beautifully decorated store windows.

“What is this place, exactly?” I managed, utterly bedazzled.

“Well, it’s not Toddler Central, for sure.” Santana chuckled. “It’s where we go to supply all of our magical needs. Books, recipes, spell ingredients. Drinks, food. More drinks. It’s a place where magicals can be themselves without worrying about humans seeing them. Hell, you can even buy an Esprit here, if you have a hard time finding your own.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, slightly confused. “I thought the Esprit was a personal object, something you connect with.”

“It is,” Wade replied. “However, sometimes it’s hard for a magical to find such an item. Cabot’s Esprit Reliquary over there stocks up on a variety of pre-owned objects, former Esprits of deceased magicals. They cost a fortune, though.”

He pointed at a storefront not too far ahead. I could make out the Cabot name in shiny steel letters mounted above the main entrance.

“Okay, let’s grab a drink and a bite at Moll Dyer’s, first,” Astrid suggested, “I’m starving. Then we’ll show you Cabot’s place, though I sincerely doubt you’ll need it.”

I managed a nod before all three girls flanked me and escorted me to a gorgeous little café and bar, with Moll Dyer’s name lovingly written in swirly cursive gold letters above the terrace. The interior was decorated in charcoal gray and soft beiges, with a French feel—complete with classy smoked glass wall sconces and elegant silverware. The terrace was a tad more casual, with tables covered in white linen, each with a red-and-yellow flowerpot.

We gathered around a larger table, and a waitress brought over the lunch and specials menus. I let Santana order for me, given that she swore by their minty lemonade and quiche. Wade, as usual, requested sparkling water in a glassful of limes—his almost-limeade. It brought flashbacks of the night we’d met, and the glimpses I’d caught of a gargoyle’s tail.

The team engaged in a conversation about today’s mission, while I found myself gawking at a detail I’d somehow missed before. The night I met Wade, there was already a gargoyle inside the casino, long before the actual incident out in the parking lot. What was the creature doing there in the first place?

Oh, my God. Was it because of me, from the very beginning?

If so, I was probably, though indirectly, responsible for its attack on Jamie the drunk dude.

“Wade, I just remembered something,” I murmured, feeling my blood chill as I went deeper into my memories of that night. He looked at me, waiting for me to continue. “The night you were at the casino… When I was still at the poker table, and you were sitting in one of the booths… There was a gargoyle in the room, right? I thought I saw a tail up on the ceiling, by one of the vents.”

“That’s correct,” Wade said.

“Why were you at the casino that night?” I asked.

“I saw the gargoyle outside, first. I was driving by, on my way back from another mission, when I saw the creature slither inside.”

“And then it went back out and attacked the guy,” I continued.

He frowned slightly. “Yeah. What are you trying to say, Harley?”

“I’m not sure. But, if the gargoyles are somehow following me, what are the odds that the one double escapee was deliberately after me from the very first night?” I asked. “What if it got out of the Bestiary once, came after me, then got out again, came after me again, and trashed my place and my car in the process, along with its buddies? Then more of its minions followed today… Does that make sense? By the way, Tobe calls that gargoyle Murray. Says it’s a ‘he,’” I added.

He thought about it for a while, as did the rest of the team, before Santana shook her head. “If Murray was after you since last week, why didn’t he attack you directly? Why did he go after some random dude, then?”

“Also, we don’t yet know if the gargoyles from today had anything to do with Murray,” Wade replied. “Let’s check with Tobe before we jump to any conclusions.”

“Well, one thing’s for sure. They all seem to want a bite out of me,” I concluded, then breathed out a tremendous weight from my lungs. I was already tired, worn out by how quickly my life had turned upside down.

“Ah, crap.” Santana’s dismay broke my train of thought.

We all followed her gaze to the end of the alley, where a group of magicals emerged from the crowd. Garrett, Finch, and the rest of the investigation team. I couldn’t help but scoff. Their snobbish arrogance was the last thing I needed.

“Bunch of stalkers,” I muttered. “Maybe if we ignore them, they’ll go away.”

“Slim chance,” Tatyana replied. “They’re like wasps. The more you swat them away, the more vicious they get.”

I braced myself for what I knew would be a tense exchange. Even from that distance, I could see the look on Finch’s face. He was dying for seconds, and we were in a public place. “Whatever you do, Harley, don’t let them get to you,” Astrid said, squeezing my arm gently. I gave her a weak smile and a nod in return.

“What’s up, losers?” Garrett said as soon as they reached Moll Dyer’s terrace, then winked at me. “Except you, beautiful. I’ll have a chat with Alton, see if we can bump you up to the investigative team.”

“Who says I want to be clumped together with your rejects?” I smirked. “I tolerate you enough to let you buy me a drink, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”

One point to Harley. I couldn’t feel Garrett or Finch, but the rest of his team was already fuming.

“Is there something you want, or are you just trying to stir something up again?” Wade replied, giving Garrett a tired roll of his green eyes.

“We’re just out for some drinks, Chief Loser. We already handed our report to Alton. It seems to me that the Rag Team’s behind already,” Garrett said, his lips stretching into a grin. Once again, I got distracted by those dimples. Garrett was the hot guy you loved to hate—like the sexy villain in a spy movie.

“I hope you didn’t let Poe write the report,” Wade shot back, going straight for the kill. I felt a grin slit my face as I studied the sour faces of the investigative team—Poe’s, in particular. He was ready to boil over.

Garrett didn’t seem too offended, just confused. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. Just stating the fact. We spent the first part of the morning cleaning up after Poe’s cleanup team. His incompetence left a ton of loose ends behind, and judging by the report he handed to Alton, he lied through his teeth about how good a job he did. Which really doesn’t look good on your team,” Wade replied.

I was impressed to see him in attack mode. Once he had something on someone, Wade didn’t let go until his prey was utterly, irrevocably terminated.

“That’s downright slanderous!” Poe blurted, though my cheeks burned for him. Shame and guilt weighed heavy on the guy. It was my turn to consolidate Wade’s hits.

“Is that why you reek of guilt and embarrassment?” I chimed in, wiggling my eyebrows at him. “We all read your fairytale of a report. We had to flash people you said you’d already flashed, and Astrid here had to go into the city’s CCTV mainframe and adjust the footage, because there was plenty there for a non-magical to consider suspicious, to say the least. Not to mention weird.”

“Butt out, Mediocre!” Poe growled, taking a couple of steps forward.

“Pot, kettle, anyone?” I chuckled, leaning back into my chair and linking my hands behind my head, to show him exactly how little he intimidated me.

“You’ve got quite a lip on you today, Smith,” Finch said, his glare burning through me. “Someone should really teach you about your place in this coven, before you get yourself or, worse, someone else killed.”

“Is that a threat?”

I shot to my feet, finding it hard to control my murderous instincts. Finch did have a way of bringing the worst out in me. Wade caught my wrist, his grip tightening to the point where it was beginning to make my body temperature spike. “Harley.”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a fact. It’s bad enough you’ve got the loudmouth Santeria witch, Tatyana the snow queen, Raffe the freak, the dumb jock, and Crowley, the king of stooges, here already,” Finch replied, nodding at each member of my team, including Astrid. “Not to mention the suicidal human. The last thing this group needs is an unhinged late bloomer who can’t keep her mouth shut or her abilities under control. I’m just saying, someone needs to teach you some discipline.”

“Or I could just show you the true meaning of ‘unhinged.’ Clearly, you haven’t had enough since yesterday, and you’d like me to break some of your bones,” I said, gritting my teeth.

“Okay, break it up, you two.” Garrett intervened, placing his arm across Finch’s chest and pulling him back. “Finch, you’re ruining my vibe here, man.”

“Then stop offering her a position on this team!” Finch hissed. “Don’t try to shove her down our throats just because you want to get in her pants!”

“I doubt he’ll get anywhere near her pants,” Wade said, crossing his arms over his chest. I then remembered why it was important I stayed on Garrett’s good side, and gave him a brief smile.

“No need to offer me a spot on the team. I wouldn’t be caught dead working with the imbeciles you’ve surrounded yourself with,” I replied. “Let’s not mix business with pleasure.”

I felt Wade seethe at that. I had an urge to trash the entire terrace and break it apart—and that wasn’t me, that was all him. Pushing it aside, I waved Finch and the others away with a flick of my wrist, then resumed my seat. “Now, run along, little pups,” I added. “Don’t spoil my afternoon.”

“I’ll come get you later, then! How does Little Italy sound for tonight?” Garrett smiled, dimples in full effect.

“Nah, I’m into swankier stuff,” I replied. “There’s a secret little hip spot in Northblock Lofts I’d like better.”

“Noble Experiment?”

“That’s the place.”

“Perfect. I’ll come pick you up at nine, then,” Garrett said, then sent me another wink and motioned for the rest of his team to follow him to another venue, farther down the alley. “Come on, there’s better food at the Black Crow.”

We all watched them leave, but Wade’s fury wasn’t ready to subside. If anything, it was getting stronger, throbbing through my temples. I gave him a brief sideways glance. “Tone it down, I’m not marrying the guy. Remember? Keep your friends close, yadda-yadda-yadda?”

The Rag Team shifted their focus back to me, eyes wide and sparkling with curiosity. I let out a frustrated sigh. “Intel, guys! Intel! This may not be a competition, given how different our activity scopes are, but I’ll be damned if I let the investigation team screw us over in any way. If anything, I’m now even more determined to shove that humble pie down their throats,” I explained, prompting Santana and the others to put on their most evil grins.

Funny enough, Astrid failed miserably at looking “evil.” Dylan wasn’t too good at it either, but Santana, Tatyana, and Raffe gave me the chills. I wouldn’t have wanted to be on their bad sides. Wade, on the other hand, was still angry and awfully quiet, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he stabbed the wedges of lime in his glass with a straw.

I decided it was time to change the subject, just to give Wade some space to process what had just happened. His feud with Garrett seemed petty when compared to my objective of gathering intel from Mr. Dimples. At least I didn’t have to fake that I was attracted to the guy—my hormones be damned.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said, “and it’s something I’ve briefly discussed with Tobe. I thought I should run it by you guys, too. What if this whole Bestiary issue is an inside job?” The dropped jaws I received in response were a sign for me to elaborate a little. In all fairness, with everything I’d seen today on the church roof, I had every right to question the coven’s integrity. “Murray got out once, even though the Bestiary is secured. They added more magicals to guard it, they swept the place and found no trace of foul play, then Murray got out again. Something tells me that at least one of the church gargoyles we’ve got in the back of the Jeep is also from the Bestiary. So, my question is, what if the Bestiary’s being sabotaged?”

“What would be the purpose? Why would anyone want to drown the ship while they’re still on it?” Wade replied with a frown, and then it hit me. Of course.

“I don’t know about the purpose, but you make a fair point there,” I said. “If anyone would be trying to sabotage the Bestiary while it’s still with the San Diego Coven, it would be someone who’s not part of the coven or is looking to leave the coven. I’m using my logic here, guys, help me out.”

“I see what you’re trying to get at, but still, what’s the endgame?” Santana asked, fiddling with a paper napkin.

“Well, think of it as something to mull over,” I replied with a shrug. “Off the top of my head, my first guess would be that someone’s really pissed off with the fact that the San Diego Coven didn’t refuse the nomination in the first place and chose to go ahead with the Bestiary’s management. Or maybe someone has a grudge against Alton?”

“We might as well widen the suspect net, then,” Wade said. “It could be Alton, or even Tobe. The preceptors, the instructors… Adley… any magical in the coven. The Rag Team. Then there’s Garrett, Finch, Poe, or the rest of that joke of an investigative team.”

A couple of minutes went by in absolute silence, as they all processed the information. I could tell I’d rattled them a little—which was good. I certainly wasn’t the only one on the team actively suspecting an inside job, but I was the first one to say it out loud. We’d all thought about it from the very beginning, but they didn’t strike me as the type of people who would be comfortable suspecting each other of sabotaging the Bestiary. They seemed to be part of a tightly knit community inside the coven.

“Well, enough with the conspiracy theories for today,” Wade finally said, apparently not yet ready to officially accept the possibility. “Let’s get back to the coven. I’ve got a report to file.”

He was thinking about the idea of an inside job, and, given the unsettled feeling in my gut, I knew he was taking it seriously. There was no way that these gargoyle escapes were just accidents or unfortunate coincidences. Once, maybe. Twice? Less likely. Three times?

Nope, something stinks for sure.