“You’re cooking now?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I make excellent scrambled eggs.” He paused. “Actually, they’re mediocre scrambled eggs. But they’re edible, and that’s what counts.”

  Despite everything, Lina laughed. “Okay. Mediocre eggs sound perfect.”

  She grabbed her bag and headed for the stairs, feeling his gaze on her back the whole way. At the landing, she glanced over her shoulder and caught him watching her, his expression unguarded for just a moment.

  The heat in his eyes made her pulse skip.

  Then he seemed to catch himself and turned back to the kitchen with a slight shake of his head, as if reminding himself of those same professional boundaries she kept trying to maintain.

  Lina climbed the rest of the stairs with a small smile hovering around her lips. Maybe nothing had happened last night.

  But something was definitely happening now.

  A little more than twenty minutes later, Lina descended the stairs feeling considerably more human. The hot shower had washed away the lingering smell of smoke and the night’s restless tension. She’d dressed in clean black pants and a dark green top that brought out her eyes, pulled her damp hair back in a neat ponytail, and even managed a slight touch of makeup. She thought she looked professional but approachable. Exactly the image she wanted for the meeting with Mrs. Peabody.

  The smell of coffee and something savory drew her to the kitchen, where she found Liam fully dressed now, thank goodness. He wore dark jeans and a gray button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms. He stood at the stove, spatula in hand, tending to a pan of scrambled eggs that actually looked pretty good.

  “I think you undersold your cooking skills,” she said, sliding into a chair at the table where he’d already set out plates, silverware, and a platter of toast.

  “Don’t judge that until you’ve tasted them.” He divided the small mountain of scrambled eggs between their plates and brought them to the table, then retrieved the coffee pot for refills. “I may have had Meg’s lasagna to compare to last night, which lowered my confidence levels.”

  Lina took a bite and had to admit they were better than mediocre. The eggs were fluffy, well-seasoned, cooked just right. “These are actually really good.”

  “High praise from a federal agent.” He settled into the chair across from her with his own plate. “I’ll add acceptable egg scrambler to my resume.”

  “Right under explosion survivor and midnight snack companion.” She reached for the toast. “So I heard you on the phone with Mrs. Peabody. We’re confirmed for nine?”

  “We are. She sounded more, uh, formidable than I remember. I only met her briefly before.” Liam’s expression was rueful. “Rich wasn’t kidding about her not suffering fools. She gave me very specific instructions about arriving on time, bringing the grimoire page in its protective case, and not touching anything in her workroom without permission.”

  “Standard protocol for dealing with powerful magical artifacts, I’d imagine.” Lina sipped her coffee. “I’ve crossed paths with a few mages over the years. The serious ones tend to be very particular about their spaces and their materials.”

  “Have you worked with witches before?” Interest sparked in his eyes.

  “One or two. There was a case about three years ago involving a smuggling ring that was moving cursed objects across state lines. The Bureau brought in a consultant from a coven in Maryland to help identify what we were dealing with. She was pretty intense, but ultimately helpful.” Lina smiled at the memory. “She also scared the hell out of my partner at the time when she accidentally set his notepad on fire during a demonstration.”

  Liam laughed. “Accidentally?”

  “That’s what she claimed. Though I’m pretty sure it was deliberate. He’d been condescending to her all morning.” Lina took another bite of eggs. “Witches don’t appreciate being talked down to, in my experience.”

  “Noted. I’ll be on my best behavior with Mrs. Peabody.”

  They ate in comfortable silence for a moment, the morning sun strengthening through the kitchen window and warming the small space. Lina found herself studying Liam’s face. He had a strong jawline, and she liked the way the light caught the gold in his eyes. He also had a small scar above his left eyebrow that she’d noticed last night but hadn’t asked about. Most shifters didn’t really scar unless the wound had been severe. Something about the shifting magic tended to heal minor cuts and even breaks without leaving much evidence behind.

  He caught her looking and raised an eyebrow. “Something on my face?”

  “Just wondering about that scar above your eye.” She gestured with her fork.

  “Saw some action in the sandbox a few years back. Shrapnel from an IED got me in the head and really rung my bell.” He touched it absently. “Could’ve been worse. Quarter inch lower and I might’ve lost the eye.”

  “Hazards of the job.”

  “Says the woman who jumps off exploding docks for a living.”

  “The dock itself wasn’t exploding. Just the house behind it. And that was a one-time thing,” she protested, but she was smiling. “Usually, my job involves significantly less pyrotechnics.”

  “Good to know. My lion was starting to think you made a habit of dangerous situations.” The words were light, teasing, but something in his expression grew more serious. “You scared the hell out of me when you went for those papers, by the way. For a second, I thought we weren’t going to make it out of there before it blew.”

  The admission hung between them, more revealing than he probably intended. Lina set down her fork, meeting his gaze directly.

  “I scared myself,” she said quietly. “But those papers were our only lead. I couldn’t let them burn.”

  “I know. And you were right to grab them. Doesn’t mean I have to like watching you risk your neck.” He paused, seeming to catch himself, though a little smile hovered around his lips. “As a colleague. Purely professional concern.”

  “Right. Professional.” But the way he was looking at her didn’t feel particularly professional, and the flutter in her chest definitely wasn’t.

  She cleared her throat and reached for her coffee, needing to redirect the conversation before they wandered into dangerous territory again. “So, after Mrs. Peabody, what’s our next move?”

  Liam seemed grateful for the shift back to business. He pushed his empty plate aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Depends on what she can tell us about that page. If we’re lucky, she’ll recognize the spell or at least point us in the right direction for understanding what Mrs. E is planning.”

  “And if we’re not lucky?”

  “Then we rely on the other lead. The post office box.” He nodded toward her phone on the table. “You mentioned a contact at the postal service?”

  “Yeah. A guy I worked with on a mail fraud case a couple years back. He owes me a favor.” Lina picked up her phone, checking the time. “His office opens at eight. I’ll call him after breakfast to see if he can pull the application for that box without going through official channels.”

  “How likely is he to help?”

  “Very. Like I said, he owes me, and he’s a shifter. Some kind of bird of prey, though I never asked for details. I kept his name out of a report when he bent a few rules to help me solve that case.” She smiled slightly. “Sometimes, it’s useful to have people in your debt.”

  “Remind me never to get on your bad side, Agent Goodwell.”

  “Too late. You already made fun of me for the walk of shame that wasn’t.”

  “That was quality entertainment. I have no regrets.” His grin was unrepentant.

  She threw a balled-up napkin at him, which he caught easily, laughing. The moment of playfulness eased some of the tension that had been building between them, and Lina felt grateful for it. They needed to be able to work together without constantly tiptoeing around this attraction.

  “Okay, so our plan,” she said, pulling her mind firmly back to business. “We meet with Mrs. Peabody at nine, hopefully get information about the grimoire page and figure out what Mrs. E might be planning. I call my postal contact and try to get the address from the PO box application. Then what?”

  “Then we start narrowing down where she might be hiding.” Liam stood and began clearing their plates, moving with easy efficiency. “If your contact comes through with an address, we surveil it. If Mrs. Peabody gives us intel about the spell’s requirements—things like ingredients, location, or timing—we use that to try to predict her next move.”

  “She needs something,” Lina said, thinking out loud. “That’s why she’s still in the area. She rented the house, set up the PO box, stayed local, instead of running. She needs something specific that she can only get here.”

  “Something from the coven? Surely, she wouldn’t try to attack them directly again after her big plan failed. She’s totally lost the element of surprise.” Liam turned from the sink where he’d been rinsing dishes. “Maybe she needs something from them. Power, artifacts, revenge?”

  “Possibly. Or access to a specific location.” Lina pulled out her phone and opened her notes app, starting to type. “We should make a list of magical sites on Long Island. Power nexuses, ley line intersections, places with historical significance.”

  “I can ask Rich and Billy for help with that. They’ve been living here long enough to know the area, and their mates would definitely know the magical landscape.” He dried his hands on a towel and moved to stand beside her, looking at her phone screen. “What else?”

  “Materials. If she’s casting a major spell, she’ll need components. Some of those might be rare or hard to acquire. We could check with local suppliers like occult shops, herb stores, that sort of thing.”

  “Good thinking.” Liam pulled out his own phone. “I’ll reach out to Gavin, see if his financial tracking has picked up any unusual purchases.”

  They spent the next ten minutes brainstorming and building their task list, falling into an easy rhythm of collaboration. Lina found herself impressed by how quickly Liam grasped the investigative process, how he thought three steps ahead and anticipated complications. His military training showed in his methodical approach, but he was flexible enough to consider unconventional angles.

  “We make a good team,” she said without thinking, then immediately wished she could take it back when she saw the way his expression softened.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “We do.”

  The moment stretched between them, loaded with unspoken things. Lina forced herself to look away first, checking the time on her phone.

  “Almost eight,” she said, her voice coming out slightly rougher than intended. “I should make that call to my postal contact.”

  “I’ll give you some privacy.” Liam moved toward the living room, but paused in the doorway. “Lina?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for taking this case and risking a burning building to grab evidence.” His smile was a little lopsided as he both thanked and teased her at the same time.

  Before she could formulate a response to that, and even begin to process the warmth flooding through her at his words, he disappeared into the other room. Lina sat at the kitchen table, staring at her phone.

  Professional boundaries, she reminded herself. This was a mission. They were colleagues.

  But as she pulled up her contact list and found her postal service connection, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that those boundaries were getting blurrier by the hour.

  And the worst part? She wasn’t sure she even wanted them to stay clear anymore.

  Chapter 8

  The doorbell rang at exactly eight-thirty. Liam glanced up from the small table where he’d been double-checking his notes and strode to the door. He could guess who it was. He scented another lion, and family.

  Rich stood on the front walk, casual in jeans and a Henley, his expression warm but watchful. Beside him, Meg carried herself with quiet confidence, her long hair pulled back and a bright smile on her pretty face.

  “Morning,” Rich said, clasping Liam’s hand in a firm shake before glancing past him. “We came to say hi and walk you over to Mrs. P’s.”

  Liam stepped aside. “Come in for a moment. Meet our FBI partner.”

  Meg entered first, her eyes finding Lina where she stood near the table, a file folder open in front of her.

  “You must be Agent Goodwell,” Meg said warmly. “I’m Meg Kinkaid. It’s so good to meet you.”

  Lina straightened, offering a professional handshake. “Call me Lina. And thank you for stocking the house and arranging everything.”

  “Oh, it was my pleasure,” Meg replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Anything to see that woman stopped.”

  Rich moved forward, shaking Lina’s hand as well. “She caused a lot of trouble around here. We appreciate you being willing to assist with finding her. She’s proving to be a very skilled adversary.”

  “Happy to help,” Lina said evenly. Her green eyes met Rich’s gaze without hesitation, though Liam caught the subtle flicker of her lynx sizing him up.

  “Shall we?” Meg asked, shifting her tote on her shoulder. “Mrs. Peabody’s expecting you, and you really don’t want to keep her waiting. Being a little early is actually better. It’ll make you look prompt and polite, which counts a lot with most of these ladies.”

  Liam retrieved the evidence box and tucked it under his arm. Then, the four of them stepped outside together, the morning air warming up noticeably.

  As they walked the short distance around the corner, Meg kept close to Lina, filling her in on neighborhood details. She talked about the way the coven women looked out for one another, and the quiet strength of the community that had been recovering since Mrs. E’s defection and the attack on them all. Lina listened intently, asking a few questions, her usual probing style softened by Meg’s easy warmth.

  Behind them, Liam and Rich walked in step. “She’s sharp,” Rich murmured, jerking his chin toward Lina.

  Liam’s mouth curved. “Sharper than most. And she’s got guts.”

  Rich gave him a sidelong look but didn’t comment further. By the time they reached Mrs. Peabody’s tidy house, with its clipped hedges and neat garden, Lina had relaxed enough to smile at something Meg said. It wasn’t much, but Liam’s lion purred at the sight.

  Rich rapped once on the door. “Here we go. Ready?”

  Liam tightened his grip on the box. “Let’s see what Mrs. Peabody makes of this.”

  The door opened, and a tall woman with silvery gray hair looked out at them. She smiled at Meg and opened the screen door, stepping down onto the porch.

  “Good to see you both,” she said briskly. “Meg, do pop over later for tea. I have a few things I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “Yes, Mrs. P. I’ll bring some of the banana muffins I baked yesterday,” Meg promised.

  “You do that, dear. I’ll look forward to it.” She smiled at Meg, then turned her attention to Rich. “Good to see you as well, Richard. Now please introduce me, if you will.” Her shrewd eyes turned to regard Liam and Lina.

  “Certainly.” Liam was sure that Rich’s lips twitched, but he managed not to grin. “Mrs. Peabody, this is my cousin, Liam Kinkaid. You spoke on the phone earlier, and I believe you met briefly during the attack on the coven, though there wasn’t much time for proper introductions in all that chaos. The lovely lady with him is an ally of our Clan, FBI Agent Lina Goodwell. She’s helping track down Mrs. E, as I’m sure you’re aware. Her investigative skills are proving to be very helpful.”

  “It’s good to see you in person once again, young Liam. And you, Agent Goodwell. It’s very nice to make your acquaintance,” Mrs. P said formally.

  “Please call me Lina. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us this morning,” Lina said politely, clearly humoring the old lady and turning on the charm.

  “Liam and Lina,” Mrs. Peabody mused, looking at them both, then shaking her head. “That’s not confusing at all,” she muttered then sighed. “You might as well come in. I’ve got a pot of tea brewing.” She opened the screen door and ushered them inside, then turned to say farewell to Rich and Meg, who had apparently accomplished their mission in delivering the newcomers to Mrs. P’s door and were now being dismissed.

  Liam and Lina stood in the entryway, waiting to see where Mrs. P wanted them to go. They didn’t have to wait long. She breezed past them after closing her front door and gestured for them to follow her down the hall of her Cape Cod-style home and into one of the back rooms.

  The moment he crossed the threshold, Liam felt a flicker of magic licking out as if to taste him. It felt like it was brushing over his lion’s fur and passing judgment, then it let him go, and he was free to move deeper into the room. He’d noticed Lina also slowing her step as she entered and wondered if she’d felt the same thing.

  The room itself was unlike any workspace Liam had ever seen. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined two walls, crammed with leather-bound volumes whose spines bore no titles. A worktable sat in one corner, its scarred surface etched with symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in his peripheral vision. Bundles of dried herbs hung here and there, their scent earthy and sharp. He smelled sage, rosemary, lavender and other things he couldn’t place in the cacophony of fragrance. Crystals of various sizes caught the morning light from a single window, casting rainbow fragments across the worn wooden floor. The air hummed with residual magic, raising the fine hairs on his arms.

  “Never mind the ward. Obviously, you both pass muster,” Mrs. P said absently as she moved to the other side of the room and took a seat at the table. “I figured it would be safer to look at whatever you’ve brought me here, inside my wards, just in case. Let’s see that box, Liam.”

  Following orders, Liam lifted the wooden box onto the table and placed it in front of Mrs. P. She didn’t move to open it. Instead, she rubbed her palms together a few times, then held them outward and moved them around the box, as if testing it in some way.