Antonia’s on Main sat on a bustling corner not far from the water. Liam arrived a little early. Not that he was eager or anything. He kept telling himself that as he made his way into the bustling restaurant.

  Inside, the scents of grilled meat, herbs, and fresh bread mingled, soothing his beast and reminding him of family gatherings back in Texas. The food at this place was excellent, and the chef was a shifter. Liam had been introduced to her by his newly-mated cousins, Rich and Billy, and he’d eaten here whenever he was on the island long enough to grab food.

  Chef Antonia Hutchinson always welcomed fellow shifters and had special accommodations for them away from the front of house where the general public paid exorbitant prices to eat her fine food. Having earned her first Michelin star at the tender age of twenty-two, Chef Tony could command high prices and long waiting lists for seats in her two establishments.

  This was her Long Island location, which was larger and served more people than the flagship restaurant she’d started with in Manhattan. She spent her time between the two locations, and everyone who worked for her was a shifter of one kind or another and kept to the same high standards she’d established.

  The hostess greeted him with a big smile and ushered him toward the back room that was set aside for shifter guests. There, they could eat to their hearts’ content without raising eyebrows if they happened to demolish more food than the average human.

  The room was also soundproofed so they could talk freely and also not overhear the chatter from the main room. Everything about the back room was tuned to heightened shifter senses, which made coming to this place a welcome respite from the noise of the regular world.

  Liam sat and surveyed the others in the room. There were a few shifter families with kids on the other side of the large room and three couples sharing intimate meals at tables for two along the far wall. Liam had requested one of the booths that were round, with high-backed, padded seating that afforded the most privacy available in the room. They’d been fashioned deliberately so that shifters could conduct business without everyone else hearing or seeing what they were up to, regardless of the fact that they all had heightened senses. The setting was perfect for the discussion they needed to have about their mission.

  He’d informed the hostess that Lina would be joining him, so all he had to do was wait. He ordered some fresh guava juice to sip while he waited. They made everything on-site and bought their produce from shifter sources of the highest quality, so just about anything he ordered was guaranteed to be the best he could get in the area.

  Shifters weren’t big on alcohol, though he did have a beer every once in a while to fit in with his human comrades. Truthfully, he preferred the sweet flavor of the tropical fruit, which was a treat since it wasn’t readily available in most places in the area.

  He’d almost finished his juice when he saw Lina enter with the hostess guiding her. He stood, having learned manners from his mother that demanded a certain standard of behavior. Lina smiled at him, and he felt it like a shot to the heart. Her ash blonde hair flowed down her back a short way, bouncing in waves as her hazel eyes sparkled at him. She really was a beautiful woman.

  But this wasn’t a date. It really wasn’t a date. He had to keep reminding himself of that little fact.

  “Great choice of restaurant, by the way,” Lina said as she sat opposite him and scooted around in the circular booth until they were facing each other head on. “I’ve been to Antonia’s in Manhattan a few times, but I’ve never been to this location.” She looked around the room, taking in the other diners, probably making her own assessment of their fellow patrons.

  “I come here whenever I’m on the island for any length of time. The food is fantastic, and this room was built just for our kind,” he added, in case she hadn’t realized that yet.

  The smile on her face said she’d noticed, and he smiled back as he handed her the menu the hostess had left on the table earlier. He liked playing with this little cat. Probably too much. Dammit.

  She wore a fitted jacket and dark jeans, hair tucked back neatly, but her lynx was alert in her green eyes as she took in their surroundings. The soundproofed walls, the other shifter families, the careful privacy of their booth. She catalogued it all with professional efficiency.

  “I can see why you chose this place. We can actually talk here.”

  “That was the idea.” He watched her shoulders relax incrementally as she settled into the shifter-safe space. “What did you find on Mrs. E?”

  Lina pulled a slim folder from her bag and set it between them, but didn’t open it immediately. “Let’s order first. I have a feeling this conversation is going to take a while.”

  The server approached. He was a young wolf shifter who seemed alert to their every need, including their need for privacy. They ordered quickly. Lamb for Liam, seared tuna for Lina, and a bottle of the restaurant’s signature sparkling water infused with fresh herbs.

  Once they were alone again, Lina opened the folder. “Here’s what I found. Mrs. Entwistle has been using the alias Margaret Thornfield, among others. Ol’ Margaret has credit cards, utility bills, the works. She leased a small house in Bayshore six weeks ago. Paid six months up front in cash.”

  Liam leaned forward, studying the address she’d written on a notepad. “Bayshore’s not far from here. Maybe twenty minutes in traffic. That big of a cash transaction is unusual these days.”

  “That’s what I thought too. But here’s the interesting part.” She slid a printed satellite image across the table. “The property has waterfront access, multiple escape routes, and is just isolated enough for whatever she might be planning.”

  “You think she’s there?” Liam asked, though something in Lina’s expression suggested it wouldn’t be that simple.

  “That’s the million-dollar question. The utilities are active, but there’s been no movement on her credit cards or bank accounts tied to that alias since the lease was signed. She’s either gone to ground completely, or...” Lina tapped her pen against the table. “She’s using other resources. Other identities we haven’t found yet.”

  Liam studied the aerial photo. The house sat on a narrow lot, squeezed between similar modest homes, but the water access made it strategic. “We need eyes on the property.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I’m thinking surveillance first to see if there’s any activity. If she’s there, we don’t want to spook her into running again.”

  “How do you want to handle it? Official FBI surveillance protocols or something a bit more flexible?”

  Lina smiled. “I was hoping you’d ask that. Official channels mean paperwork, approval chains, and probably days before we get authorization. By then, she could be gone.”

  “And unofficial channels?”

  “Mean we do a little reconnaissance ourselves. Tonight, if you’re game.” She met his gaze directly. “I know you’re finishing up your mission here, but this feels urgent. Something’s telling me we don’t have much time.”

  Liam nodded slowly. His lion stirred with anticipation—not just at the prospect of hunting, but at the idea of working so closely with the beautiful lynx across from him. “What are your instincts telling you?”

  “That she didn’t rent a house by the water just to lay low. She’s planning something, and waterfront access on Long Island means she can move in directions we might not expect.” Lina pulled out her phone and showed him a broader map. “Look at this. From Bayshore, she has access to the Atlantic. With a half-decent boat, she could go anywhere up or down the coast, and she’s not too far from Sagaponack or the development where her former colleagues live.”

  “The Marsh Witches,” Liam said grimly. “You think she’s planning to go after them again?”

  “I think she’s planning something that requires a broad escape route. I’m hoping we’re going to find out a bit more of her plans tonight.” She looked up as their server approached with their meals. “That is, if you’re willing to do a little off-the-books surveillance with a federal agent who’s bending a few rules.”

  Liam grinned as the perfectly seared lamb was placed in front of him. “Agent Goodwell, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.”

  “Just don’t quote Casablanca at me when we’re crouched in the bushes at midnight,” she said dryly, but he caught the hint of an answering smile at the corners of her mouth.

  “No promises,” he replied, and was rewarded with her first genuine laugh of the day. The sound made his lion practically purr with satisfaction.

  As they began to eat, Lina spread out more photos and documents between them. “Here’s what I’m thinking for approach routes.”

  The conversation shifted into operational planning, but underneath the professional discussion, Liam was acutely aware of how naturally they worked together. Her investigative mind and his tactical experience created a synergy that felt almost effortless.

  Almost dangerously right.

  He pushed the thought aside and focused on the mission. Mrs. E wouldn’t escape them a third time. Not on his watch, and definitely not with Lina Goodwell as his partner.

  Chapter 4

  Two hours later, Liam parked his SUV three blocks away from the target address. The neighborhood was quiet. Upscale homes were pressed close together with narrow driveways and white vinyl privacy fences. Streetlights cast pools of yellow on the pavement, leaving deep shadows between.

  Lina pulled up behind him in her sedan, killing the engine and lights. She’d changed into dark cargo pants and a black jacket, her hair pulled back in a tight braid. When she stepped out of her vehicle, she moved with that liquid grace that made his lion take notice all over again.

  Focus, he reminded himself. Mission first.

  “Ready?” she asked quietly, joining him on the sidewalk.

  “Always.” He handed her a small earpiece. “Comms, in case we get separated. They’re encrypted.”

  She fitted the small device into her ear with practiced ease, then pulled out her own equipment. She had a compact pair of night-vision binoculars and what looked like a very small, high-end camera.

  “I borrowed some toys from the office. Figured we might need documentation if we spot anything,” she told him.

  They moved together down the street, keeping to the shadows. Liam’s senses sharpened as his beast rose closer to the surface. He smelled salt water on the breeze and heard the distant lap of waves against docks. Somewhere, a dog barked then fell silent.

  The target house was a small ranch-style structure, siding painted a forgettable beige. A narrow driveway led to a miniscule garage, and a wooden fence marked the backyard boundary. Lina had been right about the property backing directly onto the water. He noticed the dark expanse of the inlet beyond, with boats bobbing at private docks.

  “There,” Lina murmured, pointing to a spot between two parked cars across the street. “Good sightline, decent cover.”

  They settled into position, crouched low. Liam pulled out his own binoculars and scanned the property. The windows were dark, curtains drawn. No vehicles in the driveway. The place looked abandoned.

  “What do you think?” Lina whispered.

  “No obvious signs of occupancy. But that doesn’t mean much.” He shifted his focus to the garage. The door was closed, no windows to see inside. “Could have a vehicle in there.”

  “Or she could be long gone.” Lina raised her camera, snapping a few shots of the property. “We need to get closer. Check for recent activity.”

  Liam’s lion didn’t like the idea of her taking risks, but his rational mind knew she was right. “I’ll circle around back, approach from the water side. You stay here and keep watch on the front.”

  “No way.” Her green eyes flashed in the dim light. “We go together or not at all. I’m not sitting on my tail while you take all the risk.”

  He bit back a smile. Stubborn lynx. “Fine. But we do this smart. Stay low, stay quiet. If anything feels off, we abort and regroup.”

  “Agreed.”

  They moved as one, slipping across the street and into the deeper shadows along the property line. Liam’s animal instincts were on full alert now, every sense heightened. He smelled old garbage, car exhaust, and something else. Something that made his hackles rise.

  Magic and blood. Faint, but unmistakable. The acrid scent of dark workings.

  He touched Lina’s arm, stopping her. “Do you smell that?”

  She went still, nostrils flaring. Her lynx must have caught it too because her whole body tensed. “Blood magic. Recent.”

  “She’s been here.” Liam scanned the area, looking for wards or tripwires. “Could still be here.”

  They crept forward more carefully now, hyper-aware of every shadow, every sound. The fence was easy enough to scale. It was made of wood and hadn’t been painted in a while. Liam went over first, landing silently in the overgrown backyard. He turned, offering Lina a hand up.

  She ignored it, vaulting over on her own with feline grace. He caught the flash of annoyance in her eyes and suppressed another smile. Independent to her core.

  The backyard was a mess. Dead grass, a rusted barbecue grill, and a sagging wooden deck that led to a sliding glass door. But it was the dock that caught Liam’s attention. Twenty feet of weathered planking stretched out over the dark water.

  “Escape route,” Lina breathed.

  “And recently used.” Liam pointed to the dock. Even in the dim light, he could see fresh scuff marks on the wood, disturbed algae along the pilings. “Someone’s been using the dock within the last few days.”

  They approached the house, checking windows as they went. Most were dark and empty, but when they reached the sliding door, Liam caught a flicker of something inside. Not light exactly, but a faint glow that made his lion snarl in warning.

  Lina saw it too. She had her weapon drawn now, though she kept it pointed down. “That’s not normal.”

  “No, it’s not.” Liam tested the door handle carefully. Locked. But the lock was mundane, nothing magical about it. “I can get us in.”

  “Wait.” Lina grabbed his wrist, her touch electric even through the urgency of the moment. “If she’s warded the place, breaking in could trigger something nasty. Let me check.”

  She closed her eyes, one hand pressed flat against the glass. Liam watched her face, saw the concentration there, the way her brow furrowed. After a long moment, she opened her eyes.

  “There’s something, but it’s fading. Old magic, maybe a week or more. I think she’s been gone for a while, but...” She hesitated. “The new stuff, that glow inside? That’s active. And it’s not a ward.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t know, but we need to find out.”

  Liam pulled a slim tool from his pocket. It was a lock pick set that had served him well over the years. “Let’s get inside. But we’ll exercise caution.”

  The lock gave way in seconds. He slid the door open slowly, wincing at the faint scrape of metal on metal. The smell of magic intensified immediately, along with something else. Something organic and wrong.

  They stepped inside, and the glow Liam had seen from outside resolved into its source. In the center of the small living room, drawn on the bare wooden floor, in what looked like dried blood, was a summoning circle.

  And inside it, something was beginning to form.

  The air shimmered and twisted, magic coalescing into a recognizable shape. Not a demon. It was a person. Or rather, the image of one.

  Mrs. Entwistle materialized in the circle, her form translucent and flickering sort of like an old film projection. She was exactly as Liam remembered her. A plump, grandmotherly woman with iron-gray hair and cold, calculating eyes that didn’t match her kindly appearance.

  “Well, well,” the image said, her voice echoing with an unnatural quality. “Someone found Margaret’s house. I’m impressed, truly. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s probably a damned lion. Those Kinkaids are nothing if not persistent.”

  Liam’s hand went to his weapon, though he knew it was useless against a magical image like this. The witch’s smile was brittle and satisfied.

  “I’m going to miss being Margaret Thornfield. She had a good run, didn’t she? But all good things must end, and I’m afraid you won’t have much time to celebrate your little discovery.”

  Lina grabbed Liam’s arm, her fingers digging in hard. “It’s a trap,” she hissed.

  “You have less than one minute before this entire structure becomes a rather spectacular fireworks display,” Mrs. Entwistle continued, examining her translucent fingernails with theatrical boredom. “Do give my regards to whichever Kinkaid sent you. Tell them they’ll never find me. I have so many faces, so many names. Margaret was merely one of dozens.”

  The projection began to fade, but her final words hung in the air.

  “Good luck, hunters. You’re going to need it.”

  “GO!” Liam shouted, already spinning toward the door.

  But Lina darted sideways instead, toward the small kitchen table visible through an archway. Papers were scattered across its surface. It looked like mail, and maybe documents, and some that looked like handwritten notes.

  “Lina!” Liam’s tone was urgent.

  “Evidence,” she explained simply as she swept the small stack of paper into the cross-body bag slung across her torso. Her movements were lightning-fast, born of pure feline efficiency.

  Liam grabbed her shoulder, hauling her back toward the sliding door. They burst through together, feet pounding across the sagging deck. His lion roared in his mind, lending him speed and strength beyond human limits.

  “The dock,” Lina gasped, matching his pace stride for stride. They were both big cats in full flight.

  They hit the weathered planking at a dead run. Liam could hear it now. There was a high-pitched whine building inside the house, the precursor to detonation. His enhanced hearing picked up the mechanical click of a timer reaching zero.