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“You know it.”

“Gosh, this batch looks so cute.”

The fucking sweetheart beamed at her equally affable cousin. It was sincerely disgusting how damnnicethey were, openly, for all to see. Compliments and niceties and baked goods ought to be reserved for special occasions, behind closed doors. I bet theyhuggedall the time.

“Do you have time for tea?” Gideon asked, waving toward the kettle tucked between a pile of reference books and one of the artifacts we brought back, safely locked in an iron box.

“Oh, yes please. Your mom gave us an hour. I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Yes. Yes, you are. Please go away.

“No, we just got back from that stakeout in Vienna a couple of hours ago. Paperwork time.”

From the corner of my vision, I caught a certain glint in the blond hulk of a man’s blue eyes.

“In fact, that man right there just saved my bloody life,” he told her, pointing straight at me.

By all hells, why was he bringing her attention to me?

To torture you, you imbecile.

For the first time in six months, Kleos turned to look at me, forced to acknowledge my existence. We had a good thing going on, a status quo, where we didn’t speak, and I only looked when no one noticed. That was over.

My eyes meeting hers felt like a challenge. I refused to look away first. It was a matter of principle. A Regis did not bow down to anyone.

Oblivious, Gideon continued his tirade, seemingly unaware he’d just shattered all rules of engagement. “We were in pursuitof a stolen artifact trader—you’ll get fun stuff from our loot to put away! Anyway, I didn’t notice a five-mark trap. When you’re in a marked hexagon, triggered, you can’t get out until whatever spell is trapped in there is done. That one was a slicing curse—it would have fucking cut me into pieces.”

Kleos gasped, and proceed to further ruin the highly comfortable, perfectly logical understanding that we did not interact with each other, because her mouth was moving, which meant she was talking. To me, specifically. It took me a second to start comprehending the words. “—however did you get him out of there? I read about hexagon traps. They’re almost impossible to break down fast enough to prevent the curse from doing what it’s designed for, aren’t they?”

I could tell her about the theory of balance: a strong spell, preserved over time in a location, required a strong physical anchor—an object or, in the case of a five-point trap,objects—where the magic could be stored, waiting to be activated. It was almost always easier to disturb the item keeping the magic up than to try to handle counter-curses. I just fucked with one of the five points holding the hexagon up—an urn that was easy to destroy. Exactly what I’d been describing in my report before she came in. I could say it.

Except that would require speaking to her, while looking into those eerie eyes and being all but assaulted by her light.

I, Lucian Saltzin Regis, son of a sorceress specializing in reading and manipulating minds and a warlock known for bone rituals, grandson of a necromancer, current holder of the title of high sorcerer in the underside, wielder of blood magic, shadow magic, and dark magic, didnotdo well with light.

Making me deal with light magic was akin to shoving a fictional vampire in sunlight—the Transylvanian kind, not the sparkly version. Light—even basic, regularsunlight—depleted my power, hurt my skin, and fucking exhausted me. My familylived in the underside for a reason. This half-year community sentence in the vale had been physically and mentally taxing. But coming out at eight in the morning and enduring midday sunlight and light magic all around me should have been nothing to her presence.

The thing about Kleos was sheshouldhurt me. She should burn.

But she didn’t.

She was a puzzle in so many different ways. Why was her clear-as-day light aura, a thousand times worse than Gideon’s, not affecting me at all? Looking directly at her should have been like watching a midday summer eclipse without sunglasses. Excruciating. And it just…wasn’t.

I added this new fact to the long, long list of questions I had about this strange creature. Did she haveanyhuman blood? I wouldn’t judge. I didn’t have much of it either. But what was she? And why did she play the sweet, innocent target?

“That’s Lucian for you. The man is a fucking beast,” Gideon gushed.

Was that a compliment?

“You should see him in action someday. Makes me glad he’s walking the straight and narrow because if we ever have to go after him? I’m taking the day off. Hell, I’m taking the whole year off. That’s how long it’d get the guys to nail him.”

I decided it was indeed complimentary, and tried not to look too pleased. Too much time spent with Damian taught me preening wasn’t a good look.

“Well, thank you for saving my cousin. I’m glad he has such a competent partner. Would you like a treat?” Kleos offered, standing, then crossing the tiny office in four steps, her tin in hand. “They’re just cupcakes.”

Except they weren’tjustanything.

Decorated with frosting and sprinkles and little spelled sugar butterflies twirling above them, those bite-sized baked goods looked positively divine. As they were clearly imbued with light magic, I was pretty certain they’d taste like acid to me.