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Night had fallen over the academy grounds.
Madison and Zoe strolled out of their rooms laughing, the sound echoing down the hallway. Zoe still wore the outfit she'd arrived in, but Madison had changed into a tight black bodycon dress that hugged every curve like it was painted on.
Spotting Soren still lounging on the living-room couch with his eyes closed, Madison's face lit up. She sauntered over, leaned against the back of the sofa, and pressed her upper body close enough that her perfume wrapped around him.
"Hey, handsome," she purred, voice low and warm. "We're heading to the best bar in town for some real fun. You in?"
Soren opened his eyes and gave her a lazy once-over. "You two go ahead. I'm waiting on someone."
Madison pouted, disappointment flashing in her eyes. She straightened up and grabbed Zoe's hand. "Your loss, big guy. Come on, Zoe—let's leave the boring one behind."
The moment she turned, Soren's mind flicked. A thin thread of demonic power slipped from his body and latched onto Madison's back like an invisible tag. He'd practiced the trick for weeks—nothing fancy, just enough to track her as long as she didn't get too far.
A few minutes later the front door opened again.
Fiona stepped inside, and the difference hit Soren immediately. The fine lines around her eyes had faded. Her skin looked tighter, younger—almost like she'd dropped ten years since the flight.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Soren."
"No problem," he replied, rising to meet her.
Fiona's gaze swept over him with open calculation as she sat down. "Cordelia told me everything that happened this afternoon. Those girls are still learning to control their powers. If they crossed any lines, I hope you'll be forgiving."
Soren waved it off. "We're good."
Fiona studied him for a long second, then leaned forward. "How about staying on as my personal advisor? I'll teach you myself."
Soren didn't bite. "I need you to do a divination for me. A few days ago my friend Patty was attacked in Los Santos. I want the people behind it."
Fiona blinked, clearly surprised he cared more about the reading than her offer. She nodded. "Of course. That was part of our deal."
She stood and walked to a small round table in the corner. Candles already circled the surface. Fiona pulled a deck of tarot cards from a drawer, then held out her hand. "Photo of the victim and something she carries close to her body."
Soren handed over Patty's picture with a hair clip tucked behind it.
Fiona studied the photo, then laid the indicator card flat on the table and pressed the clip on top. She closed her eyes and began murmuring under her breath. When she finished, she drew four more cards and placed them around the indicator—north, south, east, west—face down.
She hovered her hand over them, brow furrowed in concentration.
The instant her fingers extended, the candle flames around the table flared from warm orange to sickly green and shot upward. Fiona's forehead beaded with sweat. Her hand trembled in the air like she was pushing against an invisible wall.
A few seconds later she yanked her hand back. The flames snapped back to normal.
Fiona wiped her brow with a handkerchief and flipped the top and bottom cards.
Emperor above. Devil below.
Soren's eyebrows rose.
"The Emperor sits in the destiny position," Fiona explained, tapping the crowned figure. "It means the person pulling the strings holds real power—money, influence, resources. The Devil in the shadow position shows the motive. Whoever's behind this has gone past the point of no return. They don't give a damn about limits anymore."
"What about the candles turning green?"
Fiona nodded. "That was a warning. The target—or the place they're hiding—is extremely dangerous."
Soren's jaw tightened. "Can you pin down a location?"
Fiona didn't answer right away. She turned over the card to the right of the indicator, closed her eyes again—and instantly recoiled, gasping like she'd been slapped.
"A powerful force cut me off the second I tried to look," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "Whoever's shielding them is at least a full witch… or they've got a top-tier one on payroll. There are wards everywhere. All I caught was the smell of red clay."
She gave a bitter laugh. "First time in decades a reading actually fought back."
Soren filed the detail away. Red clay narrowed it down to a handful of states. He could work with that.
"Thanks," he said, pocketing the photo and clip. Then he added, "One more trade."
Fiona waited.
"I want a set of your magic texts. The real ones."
Her smile cooled. "You know the rules. Witch knowledge doesn't leave the bloodline. Not even the basics."
Soren leaned in. "What if I told you I know a way to keep you young forever? No more burning through your power. No more waiting for the next generation to drain you dry."
Fiona went very still.
The overhead bulb exploded with a sharp pop. Every candle in the room toppled at once, plunging the parlor into darkness.
When the flames relit a second later, Fiona's eyes were locked on him like twin blades.
"How the hell do you know that?" she whispered.