Page 99 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
Nia nodded. Regulars had a way of being drawn to magic, always chasing the feeling that anything was possible, without knowing what it really was.
“You did all the work for me,” she said, closing the envelope and adding Raymond Bell to her black notebook before snapping it shut. “This’ll be boring.”
“It was easy.” Mira shrugged. “But you get to pick the amount. Where he donates. And you get to see the look on his face.”
Her smile sharpened. “Speaking of donations, I’ve come into some… funds.”
Mira took a sip of her coffee. Nia didn’t ask. When Mira had extra cash, it usually meant someone worse didn’t.
“I need a place to unload it,” Mira went on casually.
Nia drummed her fingers along the edge of the desk, her gaze drifting to the page she’d been doodling on earlier.
Manor of Magic
House of Comfort
House for Witches
Place for Wayward Souls
“How fast do you need to unload it?” Nia asked.
“I have time. Why?”
“Ivy and I are working on something… big,” Nia said. “And we could use the support.”
“Legal or illegal?”
Nia tilted her head. “Legal. And it’ll help young supernaturals.”
Mira’s eyes widened, her face brightening. “I’ll support whatever you and that chaos witch are up to.”
The front door slammed open.
“Is Mira here!?”
Ivy barreled in, all blonde hair, bright colors, and no brakes. Mira stood, arms already open.
“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Ivy said, voice muffled against the witch’s shoulder.
“You were at my club a month ago,” Mira said. “Got on stage with that vibrating broomstick and corset? Half the room forgot how to breathe. You got a standing ovation, at least from those who weren’t too horny to join in.”
Ivy giggled, blushing hard. But then her eyes landed on the sun-soaked armchair and its occupant.
“Oh my goodness, is this Jade?” she squealed, moving cautiously closer, like she was approaching a unicorn grazing in the wild.
The dog perked up, tail thumping wildly before she launched herself at Ivy.
They both went down in a tangle of limbs and laughter.
Nia shook her head, smiling.
Mira chuckled and glanced out the window. Her bodyguard, Wren, was now surrounded by four elderly women, one of whom was trying to feed him spice cake.
“I should go,” Mira said. “I’m checking in on Salt, then heading back to Darkwood. Text me when you have more details about your project?”
“Will do.”
