It wasn't particularly hard to sneak out of the safe house.

I waited until everyone was asleep, of course. Ray and mom stayed up late and continued to talk, but eventually they also went to bed.

If Calen was as sketchy as Ray said, I had to know, and I had a limited window of time to get inside that hotel and investigate. The second they knew that Dante was alive, all hell could break loose. I might be under suspicion, too, if anyone happened to realize that the shop closed early that night. I went out the back door and used the invisibility charm that night, but if Ray could track me, Calen probably had ways to track me, too.

In any case, I had to take advantage of this window of opportunity, no matter what Dante said.

For the record, when I mentioned it to my family in the safe house, Ray also thought this plan was a bad idea. I saw their point, for sure. It wasn't the best plan, but there weren't a lot of plans available at the moment, much less good ones.

I left a note by the bed to tell Dante where I went, just in case the worst happened and I needed a rescue. I certainly hoped that wouldn't be the case, but it was better to prepare than find myself out of options. 

Before I left, I also texted Calen. On any normal day, I'd warn him before I wanted to come and visit, and I needed to keep up the façade of normality.

There were two motorcycles in the garage, and I found keys on the pegboards by the doors. I also took a plain, black backpack with me. It was in the garage and packed with a few random things, but I replaced them with a six-inch jackknife, my invisibility pendant, a couple of apples and some bread in case I needed to hide out for a while, and a change of clothes.

Then, thinking better of it, I put the jackknife in my pocket instead.

I had to roll one of the motorcycles down the long drive and out to the road, of course, because the noise of the engine could wake up everyone in the house, and then they'd try to stop me. It was an annoying but necessary process.

I'd only ever ridden a motorcycle with Calen, and I wasn't really wearing appropriate clothes for it. My newly washed shorts and t-shirt weren't really going to cut the wind or protect me like a motorcycle jacket would, but I had limited options. At least there were helmets, and that would have to do.

It didn't take too much work to backtrack my way into town. I did my best to mentally catalogue the streets as I rode so that I could get back here without the headlights, if necessary. I wanted to make a quiet entrance and a smooth getaway after I finished gathering information.

I cut the lights and parked a couple blocks down the street from Calen's headquarters, towards the outside of town. It was darker there, and the shadows helped conceal the black bike. Still, just to be safe, I pushed it off the road and behind some bushes, almost off into the woods. That was the benefit of living in a small town— there were plenty of forested areas just off the road at any given spot.

Finger-combing my hair as I walked, I rehearsed the speech that I planned to give Calen. It was about midnight— the witching hour —and I knew he'd still be awake. We'd been up until three in the morning having conversations before, and he said he was typically a night owl. Now, after everything I'd learned, a part of me wondered if he ever slept at all. Hopefully it shouldn't be too surprising that I wanted to come and visit, considering some of the public witch meetups took place later in the evening.

I walked through the doors without trouble, though this time I did reach out with the Threads to check the wards. I hadn't bothered before, but now I needed to know how they worked. Wards, magical protections around a building or person or object, likely kept Sylvans out of the building.

There were intense layers of them around the entire hotel, woven through with all kinds of magic. I wasn't sure if I wanted to bother breaking them, fiddling with them, or resetting them for now. There might be protections to keep just anyone from messing with them— that would be the smart thing to do. It might also not be worth it due to the complexity. If I could get the information we needed now and bring it back to Ray and Dante, then Sylvans wouldn't need to try to come back here undercover.

"Sunday!" Calen said brightly, running over to hug me when I entered.

I prayed my high school theater training wouldn't fail me now.

He picked me up in a tight hug, my feet dangling off the ground for a moment, and I laughed as he put me down. When he kissed me hello, I wanted to vomit, the image of Dante's blood splashed all over him etched in my mind, but I forced myself to smile brightly and stay close to him, my arms still around his neck.

"How have you been?" I asked.

It wasn't as hard to be close to him as I thought it would be. The soul mate tie felt biological as much as magical, in a way, and it was like my body wanted to be near him. I could still feel my heart pounding, still feel the butterflies, still feel some underlying sense of lust and a primal need to be close to him...

But I also recognized some of those feelings as fear, and that helped me keep a cool head.

"Good. It's late for you, though. Are you closing the shop tomorrow?" Calen raised an eyebrow.

"I'm taking a vacation for the week," I said cheerfully. "I thought it was time, considering I haven't had one in... Well, since I started it a couple years ago."

I decided it was probably best if I stuck to the truth. Everyone always said it was easy to get caught in your own web of lies, so if I kept as close to the truth as possible, it would be easier to stick to my story.

And, to be fair, I did need a vacation. I just didn't really expect it to be a forced one.

"I have a meeting in a few minutes, but you're welcome to stay here or in my office, or to look around. I'm sure the residents will be more than happy to talk to you," he said with a smile.

I'm sure they would be, but that wasn't my goal.

"I could come to the meeting—" I offered, but Calen waved me off.

"It'll be boring, I promise. I'll meet you after," he said, adjusting his jacket.

"But I could help," I pressed. "If I'm going to start working with you guys, I need to know what's going on."

It was true enough, but mostly I wanted the information. If the meeting was important enough that Calen was going to be there, I wanted to know what they were talking about.

"It's just something for the leaders of the collective. Business things. Financials," he said, shaking his head. "You won't enjoy it, and they won't understand why you're there. You're still considered an outsider for now."

Interesting phrasing. I tried to focus on that and not the fact that he was clearly trying to push me to the side.

"An outsider?" I asked, frowning. "I'm a witch, though."

"You're not part of the Collective yet, sweetheart. We know we can trust the people in this building. That's all, I promise," he said bending down to kiss my cheek.

I sighed, shrugging. There wasn't anything I could do about that, and I need to stick to my normal scope of reactions.

"Okay. I guess I'll just meet you later, then?"

"It might be a long one, but I wasn't going to turn down the chance to see you," he said, winking. "In fact, we still have some time beforehand, if you felt like finishing what we started last time?"

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to kiss him. That strange sense of primal lust flared, and he was absolutely attractive, and part of me wanted to jump him in his office and call it done. Maybe if I just satisfied that weird urge once, my body would let it go.

But... it also might get worse, and I did not need my rational mind clouded by some sense of physical attachment turned emotional. I needed to hear his explanations first. I needed to know what he wanted from me first.

"Tempting," I said, batting my eyelashes. "I want you all night, though. Better wait."

Calen practically growled and hauled me in for a rough kiss, his hands on my waist sliding down to pull my hips against his. For a second, my brain went haywire as his teeth worried my lip, as his tongue slipped into my mouth. My fingers gripped at his leather jacket almost against my will, wanting to drag him closer.

What... the hell was wrong with me?

"You drive a hard bargain," he said as he released me, breathing hard. "I accept, though."

"I'll see you later," I said, my voice shaking, but I couldn't tell from what.

"You certainly will," he rasped.

I felt sick as he walked away.

My legs were shaking, and it scared me how easily I could go from determined to run away from him to entirely compliant and ready to sleep with him. Calen was attractive. There was no doubt about that. I couldn't figure out where the disconnect in my brain was that allowed me to still be attracted to him, though.

Maybe it was something about knowing him in past lives. Clearly some of my past selves had genuinely loved him, and maybe that was still a part of me somewhere. Some part of my soul recognized him as attractive, perhaps, recognized sex as an easy way to build attachment.

I didn't like it, though.

Nausea roiled in my stomach as I walked down the hallway, taking the path I knew went towards Calen's office. I wasn't sure if the door was locked, but it was more likely that the door was warded against anyone entering that shouldn't. If he'd told me to wait there, I was probably fine to enter.

I found the door fairly easily, though it wasn't marked. There wasn't even anyone outside to monitor who went in and out, which meant it was certainly warded, though it opened easily for me and I entered without trouble.

Last time, I'd been... preoccupied, so I hadn't taken a good look around the office. It was simply furnished, with one sofa, a desk, a desk chair, and a few bookshelves. I was most interested in the file cabinet behind the desk, though.

I closed and locked the door behind me, just in case someone came to check on the place. It would not be good if they found me sniffing through files. I also did a quick scan for any security cameras, but I didn't find any, not even in weird, hidden places. Clearly, Calen thought the wards would be enough.

Not wanting to waste any time, I went straight for the file cabinet. There was a place for a key, but the drawers opened easily. That could be good or bad— it either meant that the door wards were supposed to keep anyone who wasn't supposed to be there out of the cabinet, or it could mean that there wasn't anything important in there.

I started flipping through folders as quickly as I could.

Most of them seemed to be financial records. I could look at those later, if I had time, but that wasn't really top ten on my list of things I hoped to find. There was the deed for the hotel, which seemed to be legitimate, but I took a picture of it with my phone anyways. There were also plenty of records for mundane things, like wi-fi and...

Internet permissions?

I blinked, pulling out the file folders. Why would they need internet permissions for adult residents?

Scanning through the documents, it seemed like internet access and permission to view certain types of content was restricted by some kind of tier system. "Initiate" was the lowest, and they had no internet access at all. The rest went along a pathway that ranged from "Acolyte" to "Superior" and beyond, and each had a separate password for a different network. No one had full internet access, though— even the highest tier still blocked some websites and keywords.

Okay, so Ray was right. This was extremely sketchy of them.

I took a picture of the document.

If the Virginia Wiches' Collective really had a tier system, that was already a red flag. Yes, organizations needed boards, but it was odd for the entire system to be based on tiers. That actually sounded a little more cult-like than I was comfortable with.

I also found a document that contained contact information for other Witches' Collectives, all set in different states. There were five of them in scattered places across the US, including not just Virginia, but Oregon, Colorado, Missouri, and one listed as "New England Collective."

All of them listed Calen as the head and founder, though. Every single one.

I wondered how long he'd been doing this, and I wondered even more why witches hadn't heard of these organizations. If there was something sketchy happening, there were some witches who ran blogs specifically exposing things like this. The Sylvans might not like the internet, but witches? Fair game.

There was nothing else in the cabinet, though.

Grumbling, I turned to search the desk. There was mostly nothing in it besides office supplies, but one of the drawers refused to open. When I tried, a sigil on the outside flared to life.

Interesting.

My best guess was that it was keyed to Calen. That would really be the only thing that made sense, and if I couldn't open it, it meant there was sensitive information in there. Only a sample of Calen's energy would unlock the sigil—

Wait. I could get a sample of Calen's energy.

I took a breath and called up the Threads, immediately reaching out for the fat, gaudy, blindingly glowy Thread that connected the two of us. It was so large that I couldn't wrap my hand entirely around it, but when I pressed it to the glowing sigil, it flared for a moment... and then dimmed.

Hesitantly, I pulled at the drawer again, and was pleased to find that my plan had worked. It opened, and inside was the jackpot of all jackpots.

First, I took out an old leatherbound book with elemental symbols carved into the cover. It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was Calen's grimoire. For now, I set it to the side. I could look at the contents later.

Underneath it was a normal three-ring binder, and at first I found it a bit disappointing, but inside was a list of names. It only took me a moment to figure out that the pages inside were a list of names and contact information for everyone in the organization.

Of course, right at the top, there was Calen Spade.

Underneath, though, there was a massive list. It spanned pages and pages, and as I flipped through, I took pictures of every single page. Names, addresses, phone numbers, emails— this information could crack them all wide open. There were a few with a large X slashed though them in red marker, and I thought it might be a good idea to pay special attention to those.

Later, though, when I had time to process all this.

As I flipped through the book, I scanned names. I wasn't really expecting to see anyone I knew on the list, but I did want to make sure, just in case. If anyone close to me was actually a spy for Calen, I almost wouldn't be surprised at this point.

And then I saw a name that shook me to my core: Calypso Tranden.

"Callie?" I murmured.

Callie, my best friend. Callie, who hated her first name with a vengeance. Callie, who hadn't contacted me in two years.

If I was very, very lucky, this might be a chance for me to understand why she'd dropped off and seemed to disappear.

I'd been too afraid to trace her Threads like my mom recommended. I was afraid of what I'd find, of where she was, that she might have abandoned me entirely and simply moved on with her life.

If my mundane friend was in a home for witches, though, that was more than enough reason to hunt her down. She was here somewhere, and I was more than ready for answers.

I had to talk to her, and I had to do it now, before Calen was out of his meeting. I wasn't sure if he'd traced the connection between us, but if he hadn't, I wanted to keep it that way. Callie would be safer if she wasn't flagged as someone close to me— assuming she wasn't in trouble already, which she very well might be.

I double checked the file cabinet to make sure it was exactly as I'd found it, and then put the binder of names back into the drawer. I wished I had more time to look through the grimoire, but with one single name, all my priorities suddenly changed.

I hesitated before putting the grimoire back, though.

Witches kept them for a reason. We worked with too many spells and too many variables to keep all of them in our brains exactly as they should be. Some spells were passed down from generation to generation, and family grimoires were valuable tools with tested workings.

If I took it, there was a high chance that it would cripple Calen's operation by taking away the particulars of some powerful spells. Of course, he'd know the ones he used most often by heart, but there had to be some in there that he didn't know and still needed references for. The wards on this building, for example. Those were complicated enough that they likely required references and multiple casters.

However, to take it would not only be exposing myself, ruining any chances of getting back inside the building, but cutting all ties with Calen for the future. I could certainly try to make excuses, and if Calen was the good man that I wanted very desperately for him to be, he'd believe them. At the least, he'd hear me out and provide reasonable explanations for all of the things I'd seen.

If I took the grimoire, I would lose my soul mate.

I was starting to think there might not be reasonable explanations for all this, though. In fact, the more I saw, the more afraid I was that having a soul mate might be a curse. I was afraid that, no matter what Calen said, no matter what explanation he gave, it wouldn't be enough.

I put the grimoire in my backpack.