Page 7

Dominic

P atience was a virtue, and one I had been exceptionally good at for most of my life.

Until now.

Noises from the coffee shop surrounded me as I waited for the informant to arrive.

It was risky to meet like this, so out in the open, but the owner of this branch of The Morning Grind diner was a friend of mine and a talented witch—Jade Bullard.

On short notice, she’d whipped up a potion that altered my appearance and scent so that no one would be the wiser.

I was just some random guy having an afternoon coffee with a friend.

And that friend had better show up soon.

I glanced at my watch. I’d been waiting almost fifteen minutes now, which might not have been that long realistically, but I wasn’t used to waiting for anyone.

Usually, people tripped over themselves to make a good impression with a Sato or to stay in our good graces.

There was a first time for everything.

Jade stopped by my table and dropped off a double espresso. It was the third I’d ordered, but if I got the right intel today, I would need the caffeine boost to keep me up all night.

"Working hard or hardly working?" she asked.

As usual, the owner wore ripped black jeans and a faded dark hoodie tied around her waist. A white sleeveless crop top displayed tattoos covering her entire left arm, and her blonde hair was streaked with red and slicked up into a short mohawk.

Her looks always garnered plenty of glances, but it was her friendly smile that always drew the most attention. That, and the multiple nose piercings that sparkled in the light.

Although most of her family was now deceased, the Bullards had been renowned in the Gifted community for crafting high-quality potions. Jade was also well known for her high-quality coffee.

A camouflaging potion and a half dozen shots of perfectly brewed espresso?

It was turning out to be my lucky day.

Despite the tension tightening my shoulders, I smiled. "Right now, I’m hardly working. But I appreciate your help. And your discretion."

Her green eyes twinkled with mischief. "You know I love a good mystery. I’ll be conjuring up some epic soap opera story to explain…" she waved a hand at my disguised face, "this."

I chuckled. "I can’t wait to hear it."

The door opened and Scott—the security guard I’d met in the warehouse—ducked inside. His eyes darted around the shop.

Jade glanced his way. "That your guy?"

"That’s him."

When Scott’s gaze landed on me, I nodded toward the open seat across from me. I had messaged him in advance, letting him know where I was sitting.

His eyes widened briefly at my altered appearance, but he zigzagged through the maze of tables and slipped into the seat.

Jade smiled warmly at him. "Can I get you anything?"

"Uh, sure, a mocha frappé with extra whip."

"Be right back." She patted me on the back and headed to the counter.

Scott wiped his palms on his jeans and continued to look around. "You sure about this place, man?"

This branch of The Morning Grind was one of the safest places for us to meet in public. Like Subliminal, it was a place for Gifted types to gather safely. But unlike the gym, the diner wasn’t hidden from non-Gifted sight. Plenty of humans had the pleasure of enjoying Jade’s coffee.

Because of that, the GIG strictly forbade magic use here, except by the owner in case of an emergency. However, like most things in life, there were always loopholes. The potion disguising my appearance and scent wasn’t considered magic. At least not enough to enforce.

I still wasn’t sure what loophole Frankie, the fae woman who owned Subliminal, had found to hide her illegal fight nights from the authorities. She was an enigma I hadn’t figured out yet. Too many other priorities took up my time.

I sipped my espresso, savoring the rich flavor as it slid across my tongue. "Everything will be fine if you act like everything’s fine."

"Easy for you to say. I wasn’t sure it was you at first. That’s one hell of a good potion.

Only the best for you Satos, though, right?

" A blender roared to life behind the counter, making Scott flinch.

"But if shit goes down, your dragon is also a whole lot more powerful than mine.

" He smiled affectionately, as if reassuring his own beast after his degrading words.

Not that he was wrong. My dragon was one of the most powerful alive today. But I didn’t plan on either of us getting caught.

I also wasn’t here for small talk. "What did you want to tell me last time?"

The man licked his lips. I cleared my throat to catch his attention, then shook my head.

Scott’s nervous behavior was the only problem here, even if we were virtually alone.

Two other patrons were working on their laptops and wearing headphones, but they’d wisely chosen to sit on the other side of the diner.

My face might not have been recognizable right now, but the warning in my glare had done the job.

Jade stopped by again to drop off Scott’s drink. "One mocha frappé, extra whip."

"You can add it to my bill," I said.

Smiling, she nodded and moved to clean the condiments bar near the counter.

I stared at Scott, waiting for him to continue.

"I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but I happened across a delivery receipt from an address I didn’t recognize." He took a sip from his frothy frozen concoction. Something way too sugary for my taste. Then he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and slid it across the table.

Suddenly, he slapped the side of his leg. “Ugh. Damned mosquitos. I hate this time of year.”

"And you think this place is important?" I scanned the paper. It was an address, but I didn’t recognize it either.

"That’s just it—it’s so plain and ordinary, it stands out." He licked whipped cream from his upper lip and took another long drink. "It’s some sort of science place, like a lab."

My interest was piqued at the mention of a lab. That was unusual for our line of work. Common for human dealings, maybe, but trafficking illegal magical artifacts didn’t require labs; it required storage and access to witches and wizards.

Had Ichiro figured out a way to manufacture faux pyrocrystals? The few rocks I’d seen had looked real, but I wouldn’t put it past my grandfather to replicate them for profit.

But how would he have created the magical element? There was no faking the blaze that had come from the pawnshop owner. Perhaps Ichiro had mixed real and synthetic together so his stash of actual crystals would last longer and idiots would be none the wiser.

There were still too many unanswered questions.

"Like I said, I don’t know what it is, but?—"

Scott clutched his throat. His eyes bulged from his head, and his face took on a deep shade of red.

Knocking my chair backward, I leaped to my feet, ready to help him expel whatever he’d choked on. Except the veins in his face turned black, writhing and wriggling from the magic held within.

In less than ten seconds, the man slumped across the table, dead.

My wide-eyed gaze met Jade’s across the room. One look at her confused and afraid face told me everything. She was just as shocked as I was.

There was only one logical reason.

Ichiro .

Somehow, somebody must have discovered this man was giving out information, and they had informed my grandfather. Considering how easily Keiko had learned of Scott’s job frustrations, it was practically inevitable.

But how much did this mystery person or Ichiro know about my involvement?

Thankfully, it wasn’t the morning rush hour, but the two other people here were going to figure out sooner rather than later that a man had just died in their presence.

Jade appeared at my side. "What happened?" she asked, horror evident in her hushed tone.

"Magic. A poison of some sort, but not mine. I’m not sure how it was administered."

I wasn’t above killing people, but I hadn’t killed this guy. He was a source, after all. I needed him. He hadn’t even given me all the information yet, and if I wanted him dead, it wouldn’t be with poison.

The likeliest of answers was in Scott’s drink, except Jade had prepared the frappé herself. Plus, it was unlikely that Ichiro would have known what Scott was going to order to poison the right ingredients. It was possible he’d been poisoned before arriving, a delayed-action type.

"I didn’t do this, I swear," she said.

“I know,” I reassured her.

A glint of metal beneath Scott’s seat caught my eye, and I bent to pick up the object. It looked like a bug of some sort.

“That’s a hexbeetle,” Jade said, her eyes wide. “Old coven tech. Nasty little things and super illegal.”

I knew all about hexbeetles, but I’d never seen one in person. The user could fill the bug’s body with whatever they wished—poison, notes, or otherwise—and command the beetle to deliver it anywhere in the world. Poison wasn’t my method and email worked just fine for me.

A car door slammed shut outside the diner, and I glanced out the front windows.

An older bald man wearing dark sunglasses adjusted his jacket.

Heat rushed through my veins in a blaze of fury.

It was him—Ichiro. That confirmed it. There was no way his appearance here at this exact moment was a coincidence.

I pocketed the hexbeetle and turned toward the back of the coffee shop. "Is there a back door?"

Jade nodded, her wide eyes still fixed on the dead man in front of us. Not everyone was as familiar with death as I was.

"Jade, I need your help. Please."

She took a deep breath and looked up at me. Wariness, or perhaps even outright suspicion, creased her brow.

"I didn’t do this either, I promise," I said calmly but earnestly. "But I know who did, and I need your help getting out of here before he tries to frame me."

Her eyes widened even more. "Yes, there’s a back door. It leads out to the street."

I nodded and moved briskly toward the back of the diner, knowing that she understood what I was truly asking of her, even without speaking the words.

Covering up each other’s tracks was pretty common in the Gifted community.

We often had to cover for each other so that humans wouldn’t suspect that magic existed, any more than they already did, anyway.

Witches were always a favorite for fantasy shows and books, and plenty of non-Gifted humans practiced what they believed to be actual magic.

Just as I slipped around the corner and into the shadows, the coffee shop door opened and Kenzo’s annoyingly loud voice reached my ears. As usual, my cousin was babbling about something mundane.

Ichiro’s sharp command rang out, cutting off my cousin. "What’s happened?"

Something toppled over, followed by splashing sounds. Kenzo shouted, and an unfamiliar voice let out a high-pitched shriek. They must have discovered the body.

I chanced a glance around the corner. One of the other patrons continued to work on his laptop, oblivious to what was happening thanks to his giant headphones.

The other had a slack jaw as he stared at the body.

Kenzo had climbed onto a table, and Jade was holding out her arm, keeping Ichiro back as soapy water splashed all over the floor from an overturned bucket.

Damn, she was a smart witch. That bleach smell would cover my tracks completely, just in case her camouflaging potion wasn’t enough.

"Someone call 9-1-1," she shouted. "I’m going to grab some towels before someone slips and breaks their neck!"

A moment later, she popped around the corner and jumped when she nearly ran into me. She clutched a hand to her chest. "Luna, help me. You need to get out of here."

"Thank you, Jade. I’ll make it up to you."

"We can worry about that later." She waved me away. "Shoo."

I turned and quickly made my way to the back door, relieved to know Ichiro hadn’t seen me and wouldn’t pick up my scent. But somehow, he’d found out about this meeting. He knew that his operation had been compromised.

Did he suspect my involvement? Did he know about my friends being involved as well? Had he known something was amiss with Scott, or did he know what we planned?

I pushed the door open and was greeted with an interesting sight. One of Ichiro’s men lay crumpled against the alley wall. Beside him, wearing a bright yellow sundress and looking rather annoyed, was Keiko.

She held up her hand and pouted. "He broke my nail."

I tilted my head toward the street and started walking. We needed to get farther away before Ichiro came looking for his man. "How did he break it?"

Her pout turned into a dramatic sigh as she fell into step beside me.

"He tried to dodge my punch, and I scraped the wall.

As if he could beat me." She scoffed and pushed her straight black hair over one shoulder.

"He should have just taken the hit. Now I need to call my nail lady and beg her to get me on the schedule ASAP before my dinner with Rin. Like I have the time…"

I let her ramble on as we merged into the pedestrian traffic. Afternoon hours meant it was busy as people started leaving work early or headed in for a later shift.

I had already memorized the address on the paper from Scott, so I crumpled it in my fist and set it on fire. I let the ashes flutter away in the wind.

Scott hadn’t exactly been subtle about his frustrations with the job. Maybe Ichiro didn’t know what information the man was sharing, only that he was sharing. My grandfather had always been paranoid, but it came with the mob boss territory. With any luck, he didn’t know of my betrayal.

No, that I knew for certain. If Ichiro knew what I was doing—the full extent of my betrayal—I would already be dead.