One phone call and we have an invite to HQ. Maybe this time we’ll get to look behind the curtain.

Hunter succeeds in looking both billionaire chic and biker hot in his designer jeans and cream T. It’s below freezing out, but my hot-blooded, Loup companion doesn’t seem to require a jacket. I on the other hand, am as snug as a bug in the calf-length fur lined coat Fee bought but then decided looked better on me. Yep, she totally bought it for me, and usually I’d be like, no, don’t be silly, take it back, but as soon as I put this baby on, I knew it was meant to be mine for keepsies.

So yeah, where was I? Oh. At reception of the Magiguard office, which operates as a regular business but is actually a front for the magical law enforcement that keeps Necro safe. The same reception dude as my last visit sits behind his desk, staring at us as we approach. I swear if he faffs about today, I’ll—

He smiles, hits a buzzer and waves me through the barrier past the security desk.

Okay. So, this is what it’s like to have an appointment. Whereas I’m kinda thrown by the welcome, Hunter doesn’t bat an eyelid and strides past security as if he owns the place. I mean, he probably could buy the building if he wanted from what I’ve learned about him. Yeah, I snooped when he started paying Fee all the hot Loup attention. Hunter is loaded. Investments and all kinds of shit.

He knows how to act like money, too, when it suits him, like right now. He’s good. Real good. Makes everyone believe he loves himself, but the truth is the opposite. Hunter doesn’t like himself very much, and thus expects others not to like him, and I don’t need a psychology degree to know his father’s to blame. If you treat someone like shit for long enough, they start to expect to be trodden on.

Fee has her work cut out with Hunter. A shag and a few platitudes aren’t gonna cut it, but my babe is up for the challenge. I know she is.

I follow Hunter through the barrier, throwing one last look at the guy on reception. He’s still smiling. Why is he still smiling? Damn, that’s creepy. He has way too many teeth on show. Someone probably gave him a shitty customer service performance review.

I tear my gaze away from the overly enthusiastic smile and fix it on the guard beyond the barrier. He’s dressed in a suit, proper security detail like. My senses tell me he’s not human. I can taste the power radiating off him…and also the sweat. Dude, take a fucking shower. Yuk.

“This way” He leads us stiffly toward a door as if yesterday’s workout session is weighing heavily on his muscles.

We pass through into a corridor that holds nothing but a lift.

Stiff guard stands still for a long beat.

“Um…hello?” I want to prod him.

Finally, almost reluctantly, he presses his palm to the panel beside the lift and the doors open with a ping.

“Say…Say hi to Ursula from me,” he says. His voice sounds raspy and strange. Almost as if he isn’t used to speaking.

“Um, okay…”

Hunter steps into the box and as he passes the guard’s hand shoots out to grip his wrist.

Hunter’s dark brows snap together, and he looks at the guard’s hand. “Do we have a problem?”

The guard peels his fingers from Hunters wrist and steps back. Are all Magiguard this weird?

“Say hi from me,” he repeats

I join Hunter in the lift and turn to the guard. “And who is me?”

“Trent. Tell her Trent said Hi.” There is a look of almost-relief on his face.

He obviously has a thing for hot Ursula, but before I can tease him about it, the lift doors close, and a blinding light takes us away.

The light dies suddenly, and I’m face to face with Hunter. How the fuck did that happen?

“That was odd,” Hunter says. “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, it was like jumping but nothing like jumping.”

He gives me a look that says, you’re strange, and then the doors to our left slide open.

A female guard greets us this time. High ponytail, pert…assets. Yeah, I tend to notice that stuff. I slide a glance Hunter’s way to check if he’s noticing, but his gaze is fixed on the woman striding up the corridor behind the ponytailed Magiguard.

Ursula looks tired, bothered, and pissed. “This way.” She stops and jerks her head, turns on her heel, and heads back the way she came.

We follow her down the carpeted corridor. Magnolia and light brown seem to be the décor here. Fake potted plants line the way and obscure landscapes hang on the walls.

This is the Magiguard headquarters?

Got to say, I’m kinda disappointed. I expected a little pizazz. I mean, these witches are supposed to be elite warriors, but this place looks like a private hospital not kick-ass central.

We get to another door, and Ursula turns to face us. Her attention falls on Hunter. “We don’t, as a rule, allow Loup into the inner sanctum, but due to the unprecedented circumstances I’ve obtained dispensation to do so.”

“In a day?” I give her a go-girl look.

She smiles, and it’s a genuinely warm action that reaches her eyes. “I can be very persuasive when I wish to be.” Her gaze flicks back to Hunter. “Please don’t touch anything. Miasma is strong beyond these doors, and I can’t predict how it will react to a non-witch presence.”

There was no choice but to bring Hunter. The Magiguard have mystical surveillance all over the city. I know what Cain looks like, and Hunter has a direct line to Grayson and the pack, which has been split into teams. The plan is to scope out the city from surveillance central and dispatch units of Loup and Magiguard once I spot our man.

Simple plan.

So why is my gut squirming?

Ursula swipes a card and opens the door. The smell hits me first—dewy and sweet, like early morning in a meadow—and power fizzes over my skin. Hunter makes a strange sound, part sigh, part growl, before we’re drawn into the room by a magnetic force. A latent buzz fills my head. A low-grade humming.

Miasma.

It’s all around us.

The hairs on my body stand to attention and a tingle runs up my spine. “Wow, this place is charged.”

Hunter’s jaw ticks. He feels it too, and he doesn’t like it. He stares ahead and for a moment his eyes look empty and hollow, a trick of the light, because, no, his eyes are fine.

“You’ll acclimatize,” Ursula says, drawing my attention back to the room.

But it’s not a room, it’s a cylindrical structure that goes up for several floors and down for several more. The gold and cream color scheme gives it a pure, clean feel, and the world beyond is a glittering darkness. It’s as if this chamber, this strange core, exists in a cosmic vacuum. We’re on a balcony and there’s a walkway leading to a huge transparent pillar that sits in the center of the whole structure. Golden fluid churns and bubbles inside the pillar, as if desperate to be free.

“What is that?” Hunter asks.

“The miasma core,” Ursula replies. “It attracts miasma and amplifies it. Most of the covens in the city feed off the power it generates.

Interesting. “And this is the only core?”

“No, there are others in other cities. This one feeds Necro.”

She leads us away from the core and along the balcony to a set of steps that bring us onto the lower floor. The glittering darkness presses in on us here, and the only halo of light sits in the center of the room where several recliners are placed in a row. Each houses a Magiguard wearing a silver band on their forehead. The air crackles with energy and purpose, and aside from the four Magiguard in the seats, there are no other witches. The room is dark, and there’s no way to know how large it is, but I sense an abyss.

“What are they doing?” Hunter asks.

“Viewing,” Ursula says. “After the incident with the wards being activated and our inability to stop the humans being taken, the high council has decided to return to the old ways. Viewing is highly specialised, and only a handful have the ability. The bands connect them to oculus brands placed all around the city. It allows them to keep active watch.”

“Why did you stop this practice?” Hunter asks. “It sounds much more efficient than just wards.”

“Burn out,” Ursula says. “The practice reduced the life expectancy of the viewer by decades. The brave souls in those seats have accepted this price and agreed to put on the mantle for the greater good.”

Decades? These witches would die before their time to protect humans from outlier threats.

“I don’t understand….” I lock gazes with her. “Why?”

“Why what?” Ursula asks.

“Why do it? Why do witches protect humans? I mean, the Loup will protect a human if they come across one in danger, but they don’t make it their life mission.” I glance at Hunter. “No judgement.”

His lips twitch. “None taken.”

“Why do witches give a shit? I mean humans did some pretty awful things to witches back in the day.”

Ursula’s smile is wry. “I don’t know. It’s been that way since as long as anyone recalls. We protect humanity, and we keep the existence of the outliers safe to preserve the balance of power.”

I can’t help but be curious—to want to know more and understand this world I’m meant to be a part of. Not that I plan on joining a coven any time soon. However, knowledge is power. Still, we aren’t here for a history lesson. We’re here to find Cain.

“How does this help us find Cain?” Hunter asks, getting straight to the point. “Cora needs to see what your Magiguard see.”

“And she will,” Ursula says.

She walks off into the darkness and then light blooms ahead of us and a multitude of images appear; streets, gardens, parks, alleyways and warehouse parking lots. My brain struggles to keep up with what my eyes are seeing, and then it slows down and settles into a carousel of images—four rows, one above the other.

“You can view what they view,” Ursula says. “And if you see Cain, let me know.”