Page 1

The veil’s thinner on Halloween. Aether buzzes in the air, strong enough that even my powers respond. It scratches at my nerves every damn year.

Which was exactly why I should’ve stayed home. Instead, I was pouring drinks for costumed supes and pretending not to care.

Paul wove through the bar toward me, wearing a shirt stitched from fresh green leaves—subtle, for late fall.

I’d already pulled his pint and slid it across. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Sorry, Xan,” he said, not sounding it. “Tough break, working on your birthday.”

I feigned the disgruntlement he expected. Truth was, I didn’t mind. It gave me an excuse to dodge the costumes, tacky parties, and the kind of norm tourist who showed up in New Providence every year, drawn by the appeal of the veil thinning, and the lure of stronger supernaturals.

As far as I was concerned, Halloween sucked.

“Who are you meeting?” I asked, steering the conversation elsewhere. “Chloe?”

“Crystal,” he said, and gave a smug nod.

Oh yeah. Crystal. It was tough to keep track when Paul had a new girl every week. Being a charming half-fae meant he didn’t have to try that hard.

I glanced around the bar, trying to spot her—and trying to remember if we’d ever met.

It was ten o’clock, and the place was packed with costumed-up New Providence Bay Uni students, plastic skulls and imitation spiderwebs, because Halloween apparently required commitment.

‘November Rain’ by Guns N’ Roses played in the background, a nod to my sense of humor and 90s music taste. Not to mention those guitar lines.

“She a supe?”

“Half-selkie,” Paul said, taking a swig of his drink. “Rumor has it they can hold their breath a long damn time.” He grinned like a cat that got the—

I grimaced, veering away from finishing that thought, not needing that visual. “Happy for you.”

“She’s bringing a friend tonight.”

“Spare me the sordid details.”

“It’s not like that … this time. I figured we could all grab a drink, you know?” Paul shrugged. “See if you liked Crystal’s friend?”

He meant well, but I didn’t need Paul running my love life like a side hustle. “That’s good of you, but I’m working.”

I turned away to fill an order, making the point. Two Bud Lights, two glasses of wine, easily done.

The crowd would only get rowdier as the night spiraled into canned-cocktail-fueled exuberance.

Not a great combination as their powers strengthened the closer we got to midnight.

New Providence was the American supernatural capital, with about thirty percent nonhumans.

Fear and prejudice meant most hid their true natures with glamours, illusions, or just strategically positioned clothing, but Halloween was one night they could let it all hang out, so to speak.

Supes hiding, dressed as norms pretending to be supes, surrounded by norms dressed up pretending to be supes. Ironic and confusing.

Most stuck to the classics, and the ease of acquiring false ears: weres, elementals, elves, and fairies. But two costumes broke the mold.

A girl dressed as a siren shimmered in silver and blue body paint, her swimsuit little more than a suggestion, long sea-green hair doing a half-hearted job of covering her chest. She was chatting with a succubus poured into a leather corset and fishnets, her sinuous, inky tail swishing with suspicious realism over mid-calf biker boots.

My ‘costume’ was black jeans and a T-shirt with NPB Uni printed on the back of it.

Bland and invisible, just how I liked it.

That was the beauty of the university. No one stayed long.

Three or four years and they cycled out, never noticing that Xander Sullivan, philosophy lecturer and bar manager, was as old on their first day as on their last. The faculty knew, of course, but half of them were supes too.

Academia was a good place to hide, and no one asked questions.

Beneath the surface, my powers stirred restlessly; the veil thin and the night charged. It raised the hairs on my arms, and I was easily the weakest supe in the bar.

I’d never liked being out on Halloween, but owning this joint meant I didn’t get much choice.

Turned out, I wasn’t even needed: Emma was here, efficient as ever, and with a couple of others helping out, we had it covered.

She caught my glance and grinned, setting down a pitcher of beer and four glasses.

Dressed as a frost elemental, her costume shimmered with dancing ice-blue flames powered by a low-grade charm. She wasn’t a supe.

The siren and her friend headed our way, the crowd parting easily for them. Conversation dipped wherever they passed—not surprising, with two beautiful women in those outfits. They weren’t due for a refill, not with their drinks still mostly full, so I wondered what brought them over.

Then I recognized the succubus, and my stomach dropped. It was the first time I’d seen Kara in my bar, or as anything other than a grad student in my class.

Out of habit, I always checked for powers in those around me, and Kara’s were familiar, registering dark and heavy.

She was a demon, and more powerful than the midrange average.

It explained both the costume and her attitude: beautiful and knew it.

Always in designer clothes, drove a Porsche.

The kind of girl who expected the world to rearrange itself when she entered a room, and got annoyed if it didn’t move fast enough.

Pretty standard for demons, who liked to think of themselves as New Providence’s elite.

She hadn’t noticed me yet; a mere bartender wasn’t worth her time. Nor had she recognized the philosophy lecturer who’d just flunked her paper on Rawls and the Supernatural Act of 1999.

Her friend was a supe too, giving off low-level aether that to me smelled like dew on a cold spring morning—and she wasn’t a siren after all.

So that was Crystal. Selkies were creatures of the water, so the costume tracked.

She hooked an arm around Paul’s neck, pressing herself against him and leaving a smear of blue body paint on his leafy shirt. “Hey babe.” She kissed his cheek, then turned to gesture at her friend. “Do you know Kara?”

Paul slipped an arm around Crystal’s waist, his eyes lighting up as he took in Kara—boots to horns, with a corset bodysuit in between.

Black leather, tight and laced up the front, showing just enough skin to turn heads.

Soft-rose lipstick accented her full lips, and dark eyeliner framed her intense green eyes.

She was responsible for half the whiplash in the room, and she knew it.

“No, I don’t think I’ve had that pleasure,” he said, offering a hand.

Kara gave Paul’s outstretched arm a disinterested glance before turning away. Rude, even by her standards—and Paul's half-fae allure rarely failed. He raised an eyebrow at Crystal, his surprise almost comical.

“Uh …” She gave a helpless shrug. “Where’s the friend you wanted Kara to meet?”

Wait. This was the woman Paul hoped to hook me up with? Awkward.

I checked along the bar, hoping someone might need a drink, but my too-efficient staff had it all covered. Beside me, Emma leaned in and rested a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, Paul,” she said, drawing everyone’s attention. “You guys taking Xan away for some fun?”

“Oh no,” I said quickly, “there’s still a couple of hours—”

“Go ahead.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze. “We’ve got it covered.”

Kara focused on me, her eyes narrowing in recognition. Her expression hardened, tinged first with disbelief then annoyance, and she turned to Crystal with thinly veiled contempt. “Him? Seriously?”

Crystal winced, glancing at Paul for help.

Paul straightened, radiating fae aether as he smiled. “Xan-man is my best friend and roommate. You guys would …”

He trailed off as Kara walked away toward her usual clique in the far corner, her black tail swishing and her long braid swinging with each step.

She threw a glance over her shoulder, a mocking curl to her lips, suggesting she knew exactly what she’d left behind—an offer deemed beneath her, and one she took pleasure in dismissing.

Yeah. Awkward.

Paul blinked in confusion, unused to his fae charm failing so dismally.

The others wouldn’t have known he’d used it, and I covered my smile behind my hand.

But I wasn’t in the least surprised. Kara was more powerful than him, enough to resist his allure, and not the type to give anyone the time of day unless they could offer her something she wanted.

I had no interest in being on that list.

“Never going to happen, buddy,” I said, leaning over the bar and giving him a reassuring slap on the shoulder. “I grade their papers, remember?”

“You can still date students.”

“She's in my class.” Also, she despised me.

“I’m not in your class,” Emma said.

“Yeah, but you’re working.”

“Not past midnight.” She gave me a smile. “When do you get off, handsome?”

Midnight, as she knew full well. On any other Friday, we’d stay open later, but midnight was late enough when powers were stronger and young supes were drunk.

But handsome ? That was new. Emma flirted, sure, but this felt deliberate. Had I missed something these past weeks? Maybe she’d been waiting for Halloween, or my birthday. Either way, dating my employees wasn’t any better than dating my grads.

I didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Paul spoke first.

“Sorry, Xan,” he said, frowning after Kara.

“Don’t worry. You guys carry on without me. Like I said, there’s still two hours before closing.”

“All right, buddy.” Paul didn’t need much persuading as Crystal tugged on his arm. “Any chance of a lock-in? Late-night after-party?”

“Maybe.” I caught the shift in Emma’s expression: quiet disappointment I couldn’t meet. She was nice, but … not my type.

Human, for one. Half my age, for another. She had no reason to know. I didn’t look much older than her.

I tried to ignore the hurt still lingering in her eyes.

Paul took his beer and let Crystal lead him away toward the corner where Kara was mingling. She glanced over at me, said something to her friend, then they both laughed. Sharp. Derisive. Like I was the punchline. I busied myself with a drinks order.

Emma watched me, a small frown furrowing her brow, and leaned in as I mixed a cocktail. “You still gonna walk me home later?”

I hesitated, one hand on the Jack Daniels.

Emma was a nice girl, and I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

I walked her home most nights when we worked late, just to be safe.

My low-grade powers were no use in a fight, but my ability to sense supes meant I could steer clear.

On nights like this, with the veil thinned and aether running high, that was a good idea.

But that was before she’d voiced her interest, which was new. And before Paul had suggested the lock-in.

Still, I didn’t want her walking across campus alone. Especially not tonight, when it could get a bit wild.

“Of course I will.”

“Thank you.” She laid a hand on my arm. “We don’t have to go straight away. I could stay for the lock-in, then you could …” Her voice dropped lower, a hint of nervousness, “… have your cake and eat it.”

Great. Now I had to find a way of letting her down gently without losing one of my best employees.

“I don’t think an after-party is a good idea tonight,” I said. “Better we all get home safely.”

“We’ll be fine. There’ll be extra security out. But I’d still like you to walk me home, if … if that’s okay.”

“Sure, no problem.” That sounded distant enough while still being friendly, right?

Her hand fell from my arm, and she gave a strained smile before turning to serve another customer. I finished the cocktail I was making, feeling like shit for being so cold to her. But if I wanted a hook-up, it wouldn’t be with an employee.

For the next hour, I fell into the easy routine of serving drinks and minding the bar, keeping one eye on Emma and my staff, the other watching for trouble.

Emma was right: there would be extra security tonight, and that would help.

Still, with my powers chafing under my skin, I felt off-kilter, half expecting something to go wrong.

So when Conrad walked in with three of his wolves, it wasn’t their shifter magic that drew my attention, but the change in mood.

I wasn’t the only one sensitive enough to pick it up.

Within moments of their arrival, many students had left, preferring to carouse elsewhere than be in the presence of a wannabe-Alpha and his pack enforcers.

Conrad pushed past a table without so much as a glance, clipped a guy’s shoulder and didn’t bother to look back.

He leaned in too close to a girl, muttered something that made her flinch, then laughed like it was her fault for being there.

He was a dick at the best of times, but the way he braced his shoulders and swung his arms made it clear he was riding the strained veil tonight. His power was pushing him to shift, even without a full moon, and a wolf in a bad mood was no one’s idea of fun.

“Shit,” I muttered, heading over to Emma as casually as I could. “Call Professor Baldwin. One of his wolves is about to snap.”