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He was right about that too. This was as close as they came to outright arguing, but Adam didn’t like it. It put a buzz of tension on the edge of his skin, a feeling familiar from the trailer, when his parents had been in conflict, usually about him.

He knew it wasn’t the same. His relationship with Vic was miles away from the broken dishes and fists slammed against the too-thin walls. They’d built theirs on honesty, which was why he told Vic everything, why he was the only one who knew about Ian and the looming future Adam dreamed of.

His phone buzzed as he set the ice pack aside and reached for a shirt.

“It’s Emily,” he said, opening the text.

I found something. Can you come to the house?

Sure.

You might want to bring Dautre.

I’ll be there asap.

“What’s up?” Vic asked.

“She’s got something to show me. She’s over in Capitol Hill. Do you mind if I take the car?”

“Not at all, just try not to get too banged up before I can restock the first aid kit, and no broken bones, please.”

“No promises.”

“No jokes.” Vic kissed him and walked away.

One benefit of Vic having been a cop is that he understood a certain amount of injury was going to come with the job. It didn’t mean he liked it, but he understood.

Adam texted Dautre and pulled on his shoes.

The drive was short, just a quick circle around Cheesman Park. It took more time to find street parking.

Dautre was already there, waiting for Adam outside the wards at the edge of the property. They’d been here before, the first time Adam had seen and fought a boggin.

Emily was good at wards. A series of iron frames were set around the yard, making a fence more decorative than practical, at least from the mortal perspective. Emily had filled the frames with colorful nylon ropes that she’d woven into weblike patterns. Passersby would think them art, but they stored defensive spells.

Dautre had reinforced them after the incident with the boggin, making them truly formidable. Beyond stood the large, old house Emily shared with roommates, though she was down two now that Cole was dead. The other casualty, Amber, had joined Wilcox’s cult. As far as Adam knew she was still in the Guardians’ custody.

Emily opened the door when Adam rang the bell.

The decor was thrift-store salvage with a good eye. It did not hurt that she’d woven blankets and an intricate wall hanging to tie the place together and invoke a calming aura.

“It’s in his room,” she said, leading them up a broad set of stairs and away from the comfortable if slightly over-incensed downstairs.

“Jodi’s thinking of moving in,” Emily said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t like the new girl at her house.”

Jodi lived much like Emily did, in a house she shared with other witches. Emily’s place would be closer to the school where Jodi taught, though it was in a more expensive part of town. It would also put her closer to Adam and Vic. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. A little Jodi could go a long way.

Emily led them into what had to be Cole’s room. It was a bit messy, with some of his nerdy T-shirts thrown about. The smell of weed wrinkled Adam’s nose.

Dautre balked. “That is . . . potent,” he complained.

Emily went to open a window.

“I told him not to smoke in here. He never listened.”