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I ascend the three steps with Jinx firmly wrapped around my shoulders. I make it to my front counter without any further incident and allow my familiar to hop off onto it to glare with her glittering blue eyes at both officers. Her feet are soundless on the lacquered wood and I stroke her fluffy coat as she curls to sit, the tip of her tail twitching.

I still.

A human-skin-bound grimoire is crawling out of the stacks behind the officers. Its spine is ripped to ribbons to form tiny feet like some sort of large, squat millipede.

I scritch Jinx harder than I mean, but her rigidness tells me that she’s spotted it, too. I swallow, my eyes flicking up to the officers. Hobbs is eyeing the ceiling like she’s searching for traces of blood that are hiding within my magic, and Jagger is smiling professionally at me. His eyes betray him. They’re sharp like he’s taking in every micromovement from me. I don’t dare look at the grimoire again and force my body to relax into a casual, unbothered stance.

My heart hammers in my throat. I need to get these two out of the main bookshop so Jinx can do what she does best: subdue these sneaky bastard books. Like a sheep jumping the fence of its pasture, if one has figured out how to take advantage of my pentagram acting up, then there’s bound to be others who have slipped through the weakened shop fronts and are skulking about. If either of the officers turns around, I won’t need to worry about the dead body or Dimitar trying to frame me. I’ll be imprisoned for trading illegal goods. Grimoires must be returned to the Astrum Forest for safekeeping, as is detailed in the Revolution’s treaty, which is why my business is so lucrative.

But where can I move the Magistrate’s dogs? My loft is completely out of the question. There’s no way in hell I’m showing them where the entrance to my inner sanctum is. That leaves only one other option, and I loathe to do it.

I give Jinx a soft squeeze and step to my silk curtains, sweeping them back. “Please, let’s sit and discuss. I’d like to read your warrant while the tea steeps.”

Offering the back room while Lucas hides in the basement has me nearly breaking out in hives, but I’m out of options. I swallow and flick my gaze to the grimoire. It’s continuing its jaunty stroll towards the front door. My molars click as I watch Hobbs pause.

Get in the fucking back room, bitch, I urge silently.

The magician’s gaze meets mine again. The building pressure within me threatens to speed up my breathing. I focus on controlling my expression, controlling my eyes, controlling my breathing.

If Lucas pops out of the basement while they’re here, I’m going to fillet him alive.

The magician takes a step and I bite my tongue until it stings to keep my sigh of relief in check.

Movement behind her right shoulder attracts my eyes.

But then a crash in the back room has both Hobbs and I igniting our magic. My last thread of sanity keeps my flames in check and power crackles to raise the hairs on my arms. Hobbs rushes forward, and I shove down my instinct to attack. I call out instead, “Are you alright, Corporal?”

Jagger’s low, embarrassed chuckle reaches us. “I’m terribly sorry, Rosemont. I was trying to clear a chair and made a bit of a mess.”

I smile warmly at Hobbs and step to the side with an elegant sweep to gesture her past the curtain first. Hobbs’ lip twitches in a hint of a sneer before she steps by me. I let my gaze dart back to the shop. As I feared, a second book is shuffling its way out of the stacks, this time using its case to open and close like an inchworm. Oh, for the love of all things holy and unholy, can I catch a break?

Jinx pounces soundlessly, tackling the second book in an elegant roll. The scuttling first book squeaks and tries to turn to make a break for it, but its tiny legs aren’t made for speed.

I quickly speak to Jinx through our connection. They’re going to search the shop!

I know! Get your ass in there and stall while I hunt the rest.

My head throbs with a growing headache, and I try to close the curtains as nonchalantly as possible. My nerves are starting to fray; I cannot risk any slip-ups. I take a subtle breath. I can do this.

I permit myself the smallest glance towards what appears to be a bare wall behind the two officers. The illusion hiding my blood-smeared basement door is as perfect as always.

I wave a casual hand. “Please, sit.”

My magic hums into existence. I hold Hobbs’ unwavering gaze as the books piled on my chairs and abandoned bags of supplies shift to float to far corners of the room. Two chairs slide out for the officers and my comfortable office chair rolls over. I sit and cross my long legs elegantly, the other two following my lead.

I’m showing off. Jinx would chastise me for wasting energy, but I can’t help it. The less Hobbs gives away, the more I desire a reaction. Jagger appears appropriately impressed, at least. I ripple my fingers in a dance to brew the tea.

Three teacups and a pot glide over. The pot sits on a rune that I carved into my worktable to heat my cauldrons. It works just as well to keep the water warm as the leaves steep. The teacup and saucers gently click down in front of us. With a final flick of my fingers, I say, “I apologize for taking so long to answer the door. It is rather late, and I was quite disoriented at the abrupt awakening.”

Jagger fingers the edge of his saucer that Nora had gifted me one year ago, following the elegantly painted floral design. “Quite understandable, I assure you. It’s not often we use the summoning sigil at this hour, but time was of the essence.”

“Oh?” I flick out the warrant and carefully scan the freshly revealed words now that they were granted entry. My brows rise. “You’re looking for someone?”

Jagger clears his throat. “Yes. We received a tip that they might be within the shop. That’s why I have Hobbs here with me. She’s rather good at discovering anything hidden.”

A clenching unease from within nearly robs me of my smile. “What a talent. I’m sure the Magistrate is pleased to have such a magician on loan from the Guild.”

“Quite.”