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Selene arched a brow. “Oh? Twice in one day? You must love burning through your funds.”

When no one replied, Selene sighed and gestured us in. “Well, come in then. Standing outside won’t accomplish much.”

She turned without another word and disappeared deeper into the house, leaving the door yawning open behind her.

I didn’t hesitate. The three of us crossed the threshold and followed behind the witch, who led us wordlessly through what I assumed was their main hall, her bare feet whispering over hardwood floors.

I didn’t bother admiring the surroundings. We were here for business and business only. But the moment we rounded a corner, Isadora gasped. And that made me stop and take stock.

I spared a quick glance around the room—and froze.

The space was…ethereal in a way I’d never seen before.

Sheer silver curtains hung from their walls and billowed in a non-existent breeze.

The ceiling stretched upward like the inside of a cathedral dome, painted in what I assumed was an enchanted ink, considering the way the stars shimmered as though real.

Thousands of them blinked and moved ever so slightly that for one moment I wondered if I’d imagined it.

Beneath us sprawled a black stone floor, shot through with veins of gold.

And the furniture, while sparse, was striking.

A settee the color of dying roses. A crescent moon-shaped table with tarot cards fanned neatly across its surface.

Shelves filled with glass jars that each contained something different: a glowing feather, a frozen wisp of smoke, a tiny storm cloud crackling softly within its glass confines.

Magic didn’t just exist here—it lived here. Breathed the very air we breathed.

“Sit,” Selene said, gesturing to the nearby table. Four additional chairs appeared, summoned by the witch’s intent.

Ricky stared at the closest chair and shook his head. “No way I’m sitting in that.”

“Then pace, if that’s what suits your wolf,” Selene said with a disinterested shrug.

Isadora, however, immediately sat and stroked the chair in admiration. I had to admit, I was with the wolf for this one. I didn’t relish the thought of sitting on anything my enemy had conjured out of thin air.

Selene lowered herself into the seat across from Isadora with a liquid grace. Her robe pooled around her like smoke, one leg tucked beneath her, as she leaned an elbow on the table and regarded the three of us with an inquisitive stare.

“Well?” She began fiddling with the tarot cards laid out on the table in front of her.

Isadora spared me a glance, but when I didn’t step forward, she rolled her eyes and turned back to Selene. “We need your help.”

“Yes, you said that already,” Selene commented, calm as ever. She rested her fingers on one of the cards. With no fanfare, she flipped it over.

I wasn’t a tarot card connoisseur. So, I had no idea what we were looking at. But I noted the five figures clashing in the center, each holding a weapon. Their expressions were twisted—not in hatred. More like…chaos?

Selene studied it, her expression blank. Then, under her breath, she muttered, “Five of Wands.”

I didn’t know what that meant. The image was clear, though. It centered on conflict and fighting.

“We’re here because someone attacked Thorne Wolfe tonight,” Isadora continued. “Possessed her, actually. They used her body to deliver me a message.”

Selene’s eyes flicked up. “Possessed?”

Isadora nodded grimly. “By a vampire. Trystan. My former mate.”

That earned a blink from Selene. “Ah. One of those. Lovely.” She tapped the next card beneath her fingers, then turned it over.

This one was unmistakable. A stone tower cracked in half, lightning bisecting the image with violent precision. People fell from the shattered top, flailing midair. The edges of the card seemed darker, like smoke curled around it.

Selene didn’t name this one, but the way her lips pressed together told me the card didn’t bode well for whatever mystical energy she was reading.

“This Trystan must have had magical help,” Selene said softly. “Possessions don’t just happen spontaneously.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Isadora said. “We were hoping you’d maybe heard something? Knew if a local witch was working with a vampire? And hopefully track that magic back to the source. Find him or whoever helped him do this.”

Selene nodded again, though her eyes never left the Tower card.

She flipped another.

It showed a cloaked figure, skeletal hands emerging from black sleeves. A scythe rested across its body. The background was gray and foggy, as though the figure was leaching life from his surroundings. The only color was a red flower clutched in one bony hand.

Selene sighed. “Death.”

I frowned. “I’m assuming the literal kind.” Considering we wanted to kill Trystan, this boded well for us, no?

“It depends on who you ask,” she said, stroking the scythe. “Death brings endings. Or beginnings. Sometimes both. But it never leaves things unchanged.”

She reached for a fourth card. This one she paused on, her brow furrowed ever so slightly. She flipped it over.

Two figures stood intertwined, their bodies close, but their hands didn’t touch. Between them hovered a golden light, like something sacred—or dangerous—bound them together.

But then the card started to tremble. Not violently, just a soft wobble. It began to slowly spin, as though it didn’t know which way it belonged.

Selene’s gaze sharpened. “The Lovers.”

She didn’t elaborate. She simply watched the card tilt and spin—never fully upright, never fully reversed.

She reached out, pressed one finger to the center, and gently stilled it.

Then she looked up at us. “Your destinies are unfolding. There’s a great deal of conflict and turbulence surrounding the two of you. I feel danger lurks around the corner. But what I can’t tell is whether all this ends in love…or in death.”

I gritted my teeth.

Selene leaned back in her chair and studied Isadora as intently as she had her cards. Then, as if brushing the moment aside, she nodded and said, “Let’s find this monster of yours, shall we?”