While Jac gaped at me, I kicked open the door to the supernatural murder house, mostly because I desperately needed to unleash some of the pent up rage the last few hours had stirred up, but also because I hoped like hell someone would attack me and give me a real excuse to start kicking and swinging fists. Was it stupid considering my opponents were likely armed with spells, fangs, claws—or, I shuddered—spikes? Did I normally stay avoid starting fights with supernatural creatures for all the above reasons?

Yes, but right now I needed a fight more than I needed anything else, and even though it made more sense to sink my fist into Jac's stupidly handsome face, I refrained because my lady parts would be disappointed if I so much as left a mark on said stupidly handsome face.

Not that I ever looked at his face when we were doing the deed. It was too intimate, and aside from the occasional wall sessions, I preferred him to hit from behind. I considered that little detail. I should probably see a therapist about that.

An energy blast buzzed past my head, and I dropped to the ground, the scent of singed hair filling my nose. Blinking to clear my vision, I saw two people in the foyer, their hands raised, spells on the tips of their tongues and fingers. I widened my eyes like a psycho and grinned, lunging for them, only to be stopped when Jac grabbed me around the waist and held me against him.

"Put me down," I screamed. The witches exchanged an unreadable look and lowered their hands. "No, no, no. You want to fight me."

"This is Bria?" The woman said, leaning against the wall and appraising me. She twirled her finger around her temple. "Definitely Touched and touched."

"Har, har," I said, my heel contacting Jac's shin. He dropped me, and I smoothed my hands over my hoodie. "You're a comedic genius."

Jac rubbed his leg and rolled his eyes. "Bria, meet Tiffany. She's a Cosmic witch." He pointed at the other figure. "That's Kay. They're a Psychic witch."

There was an expectant pause. I pointed at myself. "Are you waiting for me to introduce myself? Because I thought, you all knew who I was."

"Let's go into the living room," Kay said, their expression blank as they led the way down the damp hall.

The smell from the porch did indeed extend to the inside, but it stopped abruptly when we walked into the living room. That wasn't the only thing that changed. Gone was the shag carpet and the stained wallpaper. Gleaming espresso hardwoods stretched across the entire room, and warm white shiplap covered the walls—the real deal, not the prefabricated stuff women bought at the department store after going down the farmhouse chic rabbit hole.

An oversized sectional took up most of the space, but two navy armchairs faced one another in front of the fireplace. It was big enough I could have walked inside of it, and the generous warmth it put off immediately thawed my frigid skin.

Kay perched on the edge of the couch, crossing their leg and pointing at an armchair. Tiffany plopped down next to them and put her combat boots on the coffee table. Her blazing blue eyes fastened on me, and I held her gaze as I sat. I would never admit this to anyone. I was glad Jac stopped the fight before it escalated because Tiffany, with her muscular thighs and arms, would have been a challenge even without her magic.

No one spoke right away, and I assessed the energy in the room. This place was old, but the furnishing were newer. The sofa would have the strongest echoes, which made sense considering most people would gravitate toward it, and most of the energy was soothing, only the faintest buzz of negativity beneath it all, which calmed me somewhat. How bad could these people be if their home was this calm?

"So," Kay said at last. "You've made quite the splash on the internet today."

"And I'm assuming you think it's my fault?" I replied. Jac bristled in the chair across from me, but I ignored him, choosing to tug my hoodie over my head. Now that we were out of the cold, its wet weight was growing uncomfortable. The shirt beneath it was soaked through as well, but the lighter material meant it would dry quickly in front of the fire.

"What I want to know is what you did to get an Anderian's attention," Tiffany chimed in.

"Shh," Kay said. Their eyebrows disappeared into their dark hairline. "Let's go light on the details. Makes things easier later."

Suspicion pooled in my gut. I opened my mouth to speak, but Jac jumped ahead of me. "She knows what it was. Apparently, she knows a lot about the supernatural world."

Kay and Tiffany straightened. Tiffany dropped her feet to the floor and spoke to Jac. "I thought you were told to keep her in the dark."

I leaned over and snapped my fingers in front of her face. "Jac didn't tell me shit. I've known about your little secret community since I was eighteen. I would've known sooner, but..." Probably not the best group to confide in about the time I spent in a psych ward. "Regardless, I know. One of my best friends is a succubus, and guess what, she's never mentioned anything about me being Touched so you'll have to excuse me if I don't take your word for it."

"So, my question is relevant," Tiffany continued, choosing to ignore my last barb. "What did you do to piss off an Anderian?"

"Who said I pissed him off? Maybe he was just coming back for seconds." A sudden movement from my peripheral vision drew my attention to Jac, but he was staring across the room at the witches. The ticking muscle in his jaw was the only thing revealing my suggestion bothered him. "How about you all tell me why you're hiding out here, and why you're so interested in the Anderians?"

Silence greeted me. It wasn't surprising. They would tell me nothing more than what was convenient for them, but if they thought I was going to spill all my secrets without a little quid pro quo, they were in for a shock.

"So, got anything to eat?"

"Bria," Jac said, touching my leg. "We can't help you if you don't tell us what's going on."

Tiffany's eyes fell to Jac's hand, and her thin lips twisted in displeasure. "Consider this," she said. "You don't know as much as you think you do. You're going to hurt someone if you don't cooperate."

"What are you talking about?"

The witch gestured at Jac. He shook his head and glared at her, but she pretended like she didn't see him. "Jac is an Amouri. Do you know what that means?"

Great. A quiz on the supernatural being I didn't even know existed until thirty minutes ago. "A human familiar."

Kay exhaled. "I thought you didn't tell her anything, Jac."

"I had to tell her. She was here, and she knew something wasn't right. She felt the wards."

That caught the witches' attention. They looked at me with curiosity, and perhaps a little more respect. I tried not to preen beneath it, but damn it, it felt good. I was tired of being treated like a kid on the first day of kindergarten. This had been my world far longer than it had been Jac's. I might not rank high on the supernatural food chain, but that didn't mean I didn't belong there.

"So, what does Jac being an Amouri have anything to do with me?" 

"It doesn't," Jac insisted.

"Amouris form bonds with other supernatural creatures. They can amplify magic or offer their life energy to their bonded. In return, they reap the benefits of their partner's strengths—stamina, long life, super strength... You get the picture. It's supposed to be a mutually beneficial relationship."

"Okay," I said, wishing I didn't see where this was going, but everything clicking into place when she said life energy. How many times had I been hanging on by a thread after a powerful echo and used Jac's little Jac to get a boost?

"Tiffany, stop it. I've told you, it's not like that," my former partner said. He stretched his long legs out and attempted to look relaxed, but every line in his body was tense.

She laughed bitterly. "But it is. Most Amouri are trained from childhood how to work the bond so they won't get taken advantage of. Pick the wrong partner, and well... it isn't good. Mutualism becomes parasitism. Poor Jac stumbled into a parasitic relationship, but thankfully, we got him out in time."

"Wait." I rose from the chair and crossed the room. She didn't move from her seat, but her fingers twitched, ready to hex me if I got too close. "This bond you're talking about. It only exists between two magical creatures, right?"

Kay nodded. "That's correct."

I held out my hand to fist bump the witch, but they didn't move. Fine, then. "You told Jac to leave me because I was Touched, and that made me dangerous, right?"

Tiffany squirmed. Jac, thank the lord, was stepping in what I was stepping in based on the deep scowl spreading across his face.

"Answer the question, Tiff."

"Yes," she blurted.

I clapped and then wiped away invisible sweat from my brow. "Whew, because for a moment I thought you were referring to me when you were talking about a parasite, but it can't be me if I'm just a lousy human. Isn't that right?"

The man beside me exploded. All sorts of filthy words fell from his lips, and holy hell, it made me want to jump him. Nothing was hotter than when Mr. Buttoned Up let loose, and he typically reserved those moments for the bedroom. I smirked at Tiffany as she wilted beneath his wrath while sending up a prayer of thanks I wasn't the one pissing him off for the time being. Then, I reminded myself, it didn't matter because he was still on my shit list.

"Fine, okay," she snapped when Jac had to stop yelling to breathe. "The blood you gave us proved she wasn't a human—"

"Blood?" Jac's little stumble in the woods came back to me. The testing. "Tell me you didn't give them my blood. Please."

He paled. "I was there when they did the spell, and I made sure they burned it. Nothing is left."

"How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you didn't even know they lied about the results?"

Kay had the grace to look ashamed as they said, "Technically, we didn't lie. We told him the truth. Your blood showed you didn't belong to a line of witches."

"I need to get out of here," I said, trying not to hyperventilate and failing. Especially when I remembered going out there meant facing Kohl and Cian. I stumbled down the hallway, catching myself against the wall before I slid to my knees.

"Bria, baby—" Jac squatted beside and pushed my hair back.

"No, no, no," I told him, "You don't get to call me pet names anymore. You're a lying bastard."

"I fucked up. I'm sorry."

I shoved him away and stood. "Sorry won't cut it."

"Molly Kincaid came to us to help her hide. Days later, she was dead."

The hair on my arms raised. I kept a hand on the front doorknob, but didn't turn it, waiting for him to go on.

"She was the last known carrier of a Shard—a piece of the key to the portal to Anderie. The Anderians have been hunting down the Shard Keepers for centuries. They say it's because they want to return to their home, but there's a reason the key was destroyed so the portal couldn't be opened again."

I turned around slowly, my heart stuttering with fear when I saw the grim expression on his face. "What was the reason?"

"To stop them from bringing their armies through the portal. They don't want to go home, Bria. They want to bring Andarie here, and we can't let that happen. Kay and Tiffany are part of a faction that has dedicated their existence to protecting Shard Keepers, and with Molly dead, it's imperative that we find where the new Keeper before the Anderians do."

Armies of monsters like Kohl. Giants with wings and fangs who could conjure fire and crush cars. I thought of the damage just two of them had done and nearly fainted. We stood no chance against them, but did I trust Jac and his witch friends enough to tell them the truth.

"What do you want from me?" I asked.

"The last person Molly talked to before she died was Laura, and you were the last person who talked to Laura before she died—" I winced. At least someone knew the truth of what happened to her, and she wouldn't be another missing person. "I'm guessing whatever she told you was important enough that the Anderians want the information."

"She said Molly had a child." Who couldn't possibly be me even though I carried the Shard.

Jac pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kay figured that out. Had a vision. A son was put up for adoption in 1968, but we haven't been able to get the records yet."

1968. A son who was young enough to be my father. Oh, shit. Molly wasn't my mother. She was my grandmother, and that would mean daddy dearest should have been next in line for the Shard.

"How soon does the Shard transfer after death?" I asked.

Jac shrugged. "I would assume immediately."

Seven days had passed since Molly died. I received the Shard this morning. What was it Cian had said to Kohl? 'This is why I locate them. You cannot handle the temptation.'

"Bria, are you okay?"

"What happens if the last Shard Keeper dies?" I really hoped we didn't have to find out, but my chances were looking so hot right now.

"The Shards want to be reunited. Only the spell on the Keeper ensures it goes to the next host rather than returning to the other pieces. Without a host, the last piece would go back to wherever the Anderians are keeping the other Shards."

Well, shit. I headed back to the living area, a relieved Jac trailing behind me. This day just kept getting better and better. The only thing that made any of this okay was the fact I was going to enjoy the shocked looks on all their faces when I told them who I was, but I swore to god, if Tiffany so much as looked at me wrong, I would punch her in her crooked teeth.

I really hoped she would.