Page 26

Beside me, Violet was a jagged silhouette of bristling fur, her hiss echoing my own jagged nerves. Focus, Ivy, I told myself. I caught my reflection in the dark polish of the countertop: my green eyes were wide, blown out with fear and a sharp determination. I thrust my hand toward the growing flame, pulled the heat from the air and collapsed the fire into a pile of harmless, cold ash with a single, sharp snap of my fingers.

The fire had blazed for only a few moments, but the air tasted like copper and ash. I stood in the centre of the wreckage, my hands outstretched and my fingers still humming from snapping the oxygen out of the room. My mobile, still upstairs in the flat, began to vibrate so loudly I could hear it through the floorboards. I scrambled back up the steps, grabbed the device with a soot-stained thumb, and swiped the screen.

"Ivy! We felt the wards drop from three districts away," Mia’s voice screamed, breathless and sharp. "I’m in the van with Kingy. We are four minutes out. Hold on, Red."

"It’s out," I rasped, my throat raw. "But the shop is open to the street. Please hurry, Mia."

I ran back down the stairs, grabbed a broom and began sweeping the largest shards of the display window into a pile. My movements were mechanical and fuelled by a cold fury. By the time the van screeched to a halt at the kerb, Kingy was already out of the door with a massive sheet of plywood. Without a word, he began hammering it over the broken storefront, his movements practised and rhythmic.

Mia was a blur of motion beside me, using a targeted air-purification spell to pull the last remnants of acrid smoke from the rafters. "Step back, Ivy. Let us in," Lola said, her voice a calm anchor as she and Aggy emerged from the shadows of the street.

They didn’t waste time with hugs tonight. Aggy began weaving a fresh set of perimeter wards, her mana humming with a defensive aggression I had never seen from her. Lola moved through the shop with a bucket and a sponge, her magic lifting the soot from the books as if it were nothing more than common dust.

It was only when the last board was nailed into place, and the new wards clicked into a steady, resonant hum, that the adrenaline finally seeped out of my bones. I slid down the front of the counter, my back hitting the wood with a dull thud. Aggy was there in a second, pressing a heavy glass into my hand. It was a dark, medicinal brew she’d made, smelling of herbs and high-proof grain.

"Drink it," she commanded, her eyes soft but firm. "It will stop the tremors."

I took a long, burning swallow, feeling the heat bloom in my chest as I watched my friends work. I was not meant to be the girl who needed a rescue. I was the anchor of this unit.

Mia was already hunched over her laptop at the far end of the counter, her fingers flying as she tapped into the shop’s internal security feed. "Got the bastards," she hissed, her jaw set tight. "Look at this. They didn't even bother to cover their faces. It’s like they wanted us to see them."

I leaned in, my heart stopping as the program ran the facial recognition. Two men in dark, heavy overcoats stood on the pavement, their expressions bored as they tossed the incendiary devices.

"Enforcers," Mia whispered, the blue light of the screen reflecting in her wide eyes. "Specifically, Shirl and Muriel’s personal detail. I’ve seen them at the High Hall."

A cold dread settled in my stomach. "But why? This is not their style. The Council uses bureaucracy and subtle threats. They don’t send goons to firebomb a bookstore on the South District like common street thugs."

"They’re sending a message," Aggy said, her voice low as she looked at the boarded-up window. "But it is a messy one. This reeks of desperation, Ivy. They’re not trying to capture the shard anymore. I think they’re trying to smoke you out."

We spent the next few hours in a quiet, focused blur of restoration. No one suggested going home. We worked until the scorched floorboards were scrubbed clean and the scent of burnt parchment was replaced by Aggy’s cleansing sage and the faint, comforting smell of brewing tea. Kingy moved the heavy oak reading tables to the side, creating a clear space in the heart of the shop. Mia and Lola went upstairs and returned with an assortment of duvets, heavy wool blankets, and every cushion from my sofa, layering them onto the floor until the wreckage of the day was buried beneath a makeshift sanctuary.

The shop felt different tonight, more like a fortress than a business. We settled down together, the four of them surrounding me in a circle of warmth. The moonlight filtered through the gaps in the plywood, casting long, geometric shadows across the spines of the books. Violet paced the perimeter of our nest, her paws silent on the wool, her silver eyes glowing with a protective vigilance that matched the intensity in the room.

"You are never doing this alone again, Ivy," Lola whispered, pulling a corner of a blanket over my shoulders as we lay down in the dark. "They might have breached the walls, but they will never get through us."

"We are the unit now," Mia added, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she reached out to squeeze my hand. "Council or not, they have no idea what happens when you mess with the South District coven."

I lay there, staring up at the darkened ceiling, the heat from Aggy's drink trying to lull me into a heavy, dreamless state. I was exhausted, my shop was scarred, and a war was clearly at my doorstep. But as I felt the steady, synchronised breathing of my friends around me, the fear no longer felt like a weight. It felt like fuel. I was the anchor, but they were the tide, and I knew that whatever came through that door next would have to face all of us.

Tactical Retreats

The dawn light was thin and grey, filtering through the cracks in the plywood like cold fingers. My friends had stayed until the very last moment, helping me sort through the salvageable stock before the reality of the day began to set in. As they finally packed their things to head home for a few hours of real sleep, a nondescript, slightly battered hatchback pulled quietly into the alleyway behind the shop.

Kael climbed out of the driver's side, looking like he had been awake for a week. He was dressed in his usual heavy leather, but his energy was dark and frantic. Mia was the first to meet him at the back door, and instead of moving aside, she offered him a glare so sharp it could have peeled paint. Aggy and Lola were less aggressive but no less pointed, offering me knowing, sly grins as they brushed past him. They knew exactly where my heart had been racing lately, and they were not about to let me forget it. Kingy gave Kael a nervous, sideways glance before scurrying toward the van, sensing the volcanic tension radiating from the warlock.

"I heard on the grapevine there was a hit on the store," Kael rasped, his voice raw as he stepped over the threshold. He didn't look at the mess, only at me. "I came straight over. Borrowed one of the cars from the garage so I could get through the district without every enforcer in the city hearing my engine. Ivy, tell me you are alright?"

"I’m fine, Kael," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "We handled it. My friends and I... we snapped the fire out before it could take the rafters."

Before he could respond, a blur of motion swept through the doorway. Lucien appeared as if summoned by the sheer force of the crisis. He didn't bother with greetings. He moved across the floor in three predatory strides, his face a mask of pale, cold fury. He reached out, his fingers wrapping around my upper arms with a too-tight grip, his amber eyes searching my face for any sign of injury.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. "Ivy, look at me. Did they touch you?"

I felt a flash of hot indignation. I wrenched my arms back, stepping out of his reach. "Lucien, stop. You’re being rough, and I’m not a porcelain doll. I told Kael, and now I am telling you: it is handled. We cleaned the soot, we boarded the window, and we traced the magic. I am perfectly capable of defending my own home."

The two men froze, their eyes finally drifting away from me to take in the full scale of the room. They saw the jagged plywood, the scrubbed floorboards, and the lingering, violet-tinged residue of the magical fire.

"This wasn’t a scavenger," Kael muttered, his jaw set. "This was Council magic, but the execution is all wrong. It looks like enforcers have gone rogue, Ivy. If the High Circle is losing control of its own men, you cannot stay here tonight. They know exactly where you sleep."