Page 5

Chapter

Five

T he late afternoon sun painted golden streaks across the private dining room at Vines & Soul, catching the crystal decanters that lined Jasmine's shelves like liquid amber.

Mia slumped in her chair, inhaling the complex bouquet of the vineyard—ripe grapes, sun-warmed earth, and that subtle thrum of protective magic Jasmine had woven into the foundations.

She watched as Jasmine uncorked her special reserve—the one labeled "For Supernatural Emergencies Only. "

Given that Mia had spent the afternoon wrestling her furniture-destroying ex-not-ex, this definitely qualified.

"So let me get this straight," Beatrice said, accepting a generous pour, her blonde curls catching the light like spun gold.

The scent of potion ingredients clung to her—lavender, sage, and something that sparked with magical oops-I-set-the-curtains-on-fire-again residue.

"Jim broke into your house, cooked you lunch, refused to withdraw from a death match, and you're sitting here drinking instead of plotting his demise? "

"I already plotted his demise." Mia traced the rim of her wineglass, the cool crystal grounding her. "Threw a lamp at him. He dodged. Then we... wrestled."

"Wrestled," Jasmine repeated flatly, pausing mid-pour. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Actual wrestling!" Mia protested, though her cheeks heated at the memory of skin against skin. "Mostly. Look, that's not the point. The point is I need your help getting him off that list before he gets himself killed."

"Finally!" Beatrice bounced in her seat, wine sloshing dangerously. "Operation Save Jim From Himself is a go!"

"We're not calling it that."

"Operation Stubborn Wolf Rescue?"

"No."

"Operation He's Totally Your Ex Despite Your Protests?"

"Beatrice!"

Jasmine settled into her chair with the controlled grace of someone who'd spent years interrogating supernatural criminals. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Mia leaned forward, desperation creeping into her voice. "Could you... I don't know... cook him something? Give him food poisoning? Just enough to keep him out of commission for the challenges?"

Both women stared at her.

"You want me," Jasmine said slowly, "to use my Michelin-star kitchen to deliberately poison your ex?"

"Not poison! Just... strategically incapacitate."

"Mia." Jasmine's voice carried that particular tone she'd perfected during her FBI days—the one that made grown vampires confess to jaywalking. "That's ridiculous. And illegal. And would ruin my Yelp reviews."

"Fine." Mia slumped back. "It was just a thought."

"Oh! Oh!" Beatrice nearly vibrated with excitement, her magical energy making the wine glasses hum. "I have something better! Remember that experimental sleep potion I've been working on?"

"The one that made your test subject hibernate for three days?" Jasmine asked dryly.

"That was a dosage issue! I've totally fixed it. Mostly. We could slip it into his coffee?—"

"No." Mia and Jasmine said in unison.

Beatrice deflated slightly, then perked up again. "Wait! What about my memory modifier? Just a temporary thing. He'd forget about the challenge entirely! Wake up confused but safe."

"The same memory modifier that made your last subject forget their own name for a week?" Mia asked.

"That was—okay, yeah, that one needs work." Beatrice took a large gulp of wine. "But I do have this new truth potion that's almost perfect! Forces people to spill their deepest secrets. Very experimental, but I'm super proud of it."

She rummaged in her bag, producing a violet vial that shimmered like captured starlight. The scent wafting from it was intoxicating—honeysuckle and lightning and something that made Mia's wolf pace nervously.

"Bea, we can't force Jim to tell the truth," Mia said, though she eyed the potion with interest. "That's... that's violation of trust."

"More violation than him disappearing for a year?" Beatrice countered, but tucked the vial away. "Fine. But I'm keeping this baby for future emergencies."

Jasmine swirled her wine thoughtfully. "I could call in some favors. I still have contacts in the vampire community from my enforcement days. They could... detain him. Gently. Just until the challenge period passes."

"Vampires?" Mia's wolf bristled at the suggestion. "Jas, you know things are tense between wolves and vampires right now. The last territorial dispute nearly started a war."

"True." Jasmine's expression shifted to her information-gathering mode. "Actually, Bertram mentioned something interesting at the angel council meeting. There's been unusual movement in the European vampire territories."

"Europe's a long way from Melbourne," Beatrice said, refilling her glass with less precision than before. "Why should we worry about vampire politics on the other side of the world?"

Mia and Jasmine exchanged knowing looks.

"Bea, honey," Mia said gently, "vampires are immortal. Physical distance means nothing when you have literally all the time in the world to hold grudges and plan elaborate revenge schemes."

"Oh." Beatrice blinked. "That's... actually terrifying."

"The last time European vampires got restless, we ended up with the Salem Witch Trials," Jasmine added helpfully. "Though to be fair, that was more about territory disputes than actual witches."

"WHAT?"

"Different conversation for a different day." Jasmine pulled out her phone, fingers flying over the screen. "I'll reach out to my network, see what's really going on over there. If there's going to be spillover into our region, we need to know."

"See, this is why I stick to potions," Beatrice muttered. "Potions don't hold centuries-old grudges. They just occasionally explode."

"Speaking of explosions," Mia said, "we're back to square one with Jim. No poisoning, no magical roofies, no vampire kidnapping. Any other brilliant ideas?"

"You could try talking to him," Jasmine suggested with exaggerated innocence.

"I did talk to him! Then I threw furniture!"

"Ah yes, the Lee family communication style." Jasmine's lips twitched. "Throw first, discuss never."

"I discussed! I very clearly discussed how he should withdraw from the challenge!" Mia's voice rose. "He discussed back by being a stubborn, infuriating, ridiculously muscled?—"

"Muscled?" Beatrice perked up. "Do tell."

"Not the point!"

"It's a little bit the point." Beatrice grinned wickedly. "On a scale of one to 'could grate cheese on those abs,' how are we talking?"

"I hate you both."

"That's not a number," Jasmine observed, joining in the teasing. "And you're blushing."

"I'm not—" Mia caught her reflection in the wine bottle. Definitely blushing. "Shut up."

"Look," Beatrice said, suddenly serious despite the wine flush on her cheeks. "Jim's a grown wolf. If he wants to risk his stupidly handsome neck in some archaic tradition, that's his choice."

"But—"

"BUT," Beatrice continued, holding up a finger, "that doesn't mean you have to just accept whoever wins. You're the Alpha. You have power here, even if the old guard wants you to forget it."

Jasmine nodded. "The veto I mentioned. Keep it as your ace in the hole."

"A veto won't keep Jim from getting killed during the challenge," Mia said quietly, the words tasting like ash.

"No," Jasmine agreed. "But maybe that's not your job."

"He left," Beatrice added gently. "For whatever reason, he made that choice. Now he's made this choice. You can't protect someone who doesn't want protection."

"Watch me," Mia growled, her wolf rising to the surface.

"And that right there?" Jasmine pointed at her. "That's why he entered. Because he knows you'll try to protect him, just like he's probably trying to protect you from something."

"That's stupid."

"That's love," Beatrice sighed dreamily. "Stupid, furniture-destroying, death-defying love."

"We're not?—"

"If you say you're not in love, I'm going to spell your wine to taste like brussels sprouts," Beatrice threatened.

Mia shut her mouth, glaring at her friends. They grinned back, unrepentant.

"Fine," she said finally. "No poisoning, no potions, no vampires. But I'm not just going to sit back and watch him get hurt."

"Of course not," Jasmine said. "You're going to stand there yelling at him while he gets hurt. Much more your style."

Despite everything, Mia laughed. "You're both terrible."

"We learned from the best," Beatrice raised her glass. "To terrible friends and even worse romantic decisions."

"To surviving the next three weeks without committing murder," Jasmine added.

"To Jim's stupid, handsome face staying attached to his stupid, stubborn head," Mia finished.

They clinked glasses, the crystal singing in the golden evening light. Tomorrow would bring the first challenge, but tonight, Mia had wine, friends, and a veto she hadn't known existed.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

"So," Beatrice said, eyes gleaming. "About those abs..."

Mia threw a napkin at her head.