Page 33 of A Witchy Spell Ride

“Storeroom?” I asked.

Selene hesitated a fraction too long. “In the back,” she said. “Ten minutes.”

I moved through the bead curtain and into the narrow hallway, letting my eyes adjust to the dim. The storeroom was exactly what I expected from her, intentional chaos that wasn’t actually chaotic. Shelves labeled. Jars aligned. A folding table with twine and scissors and a knife that had been wiped recently. I stood in the doorway and breathed.

Nothing obvious. But the hair on the back of my neck prickled. The way it does when a room remembers someone.

I backed out and closed the curtain. “He was already inside,” I said to no one in particular. “He waited you out. He’s practiced.”

Briar’s eyes flashed. “So not a first-time creep.”

“No.” I met Reaper’s stare. “And not Banks.”

Reaper didn’t flinch. “You sure?”

“Sure enough.” I kept my tone even. “Yesterday afternoon he was with Rattle until close. We’ve all seen him drift. Pattern’s there. But this isn’t his kind of careful.”

Cross looked up from his call. “So, we’re looking for someone who plans his nervous breakdowns.”

“Or someone who doesn’t think this is a breakdown,” Briar said. “He thinks it’s devotion.”

Selene’s breath hitched; she tried to make it sound like a cough. I caught it anyway.

Reaper moved closer to her. Not touching. He rarely touched when she was bristling. “You’re coming back to the clubhouse,” he said.

“No,” Selene said, calm and direct in a way that made Cross glance up and Briar straighten.

“You think I’m asking?” Reaper said, but his eyes were on me. He wanted me to argue so he could be the one to give in.

“You stick her in a room with two guards,” I said, “he’ll escalate. He wants intimacy, not a siege. You make it a siege; he’ll manufacture intimacy the only other way he understands.” I let that hang. Everyone in the room understood the word I wasn’t saying.

Reaper’s jaw worked once more. “So?”

“So, we control the field,” I said. “Not the cage. We change her routine before he does. We add noise on our terms. We keep watchers off-book and rotate them, not in kuttes. We lay bait.”

Briar perked up. “Bait?”

I nodded. “Decoy walk at dusk. Same jacket, same hair, hood up. Different woman. He follows; we see his face. If he bites, we take him clean. If he doesn’t, we still learn how he shadows.”

Reaper weighed it, eyes flicking to Selene’s shoulders, her breath, the way she stood like one of her candles, flame steady even when the room moved. “Who’s your decoy?”

“I am,” Briar said instantly.

“Negative,” Reaper said, just as fast.

“Positive,” Briar shot back. “You put one of the club girls in my clothes, he clocks the swap in ten seconds. He’s learningher. He’ll recognizemeas her shadow. That’s the point.”

Cross ended his call. “Gallery across the way is sending me their cam. Church too. The bar wants to be paid in free readings.”

Selene’s mouth twitched. “I can live with that.”

“We’ll pay them in cash,” Reaper said.

“Or that,” Selene allowed.

I turned back to her. “You’re sleeping at Briar’s again tonight.”

Selene lifted her chin. “Maybe I’m sleeping in my own bed.”