Page 5 of Logan

“I believe she belongs to some kind of crime syndicate.”

“That is no life for a druid.”

Logan nodded. “I heard the word Hapa.”

“Halfling. She has mixed blood, and some cultures are not as accepting of an unclean... lineage.”

Logan stepped from the small, dirty room. “I am aware.”

Siro glanced at the door, “How did she get in the room if you used magic to enter?”

“She appears skilled at unauthorized entries. She procured an item from a sophisticated safe. Or it appeared so in our shared vision.”

Siro glanced back toward the busy streets. “Where did she go next?”

“To an establishment I am unfamiliar with, there were racks of clothing that move. It is down that way.” He pointed toward the streets as Siro, and he made their way toward the traffic lights.

They continued down the sidewalk, but as they passed the business she had stepped into briefly, she emerged from a door. The one where she had met the tiny older woman.

“That is her.”

Siro focused on the young woman with a back hoodie. She kept her head covered and only glanced at them once. Her eyes scanned the street, but she seemed to be looking for something specific, and it wasn’t them.

The druid they were following walked quickly, though she had short, thin legs covered by tight pink pants and soft back boots.

They reached a massive upscale apartment with glass covering the entire south face before the druid ducked into the revolving door and disappeared.

Siro glanced up at the shimmering monstrosity. “She lives here?”

“Let’s find out.”

CHAPTER 3

Emily slid her key card into the reader, the soft beep signaling her access to her high-end apartment. Owned by her uncle, the building stood as a testament to his legitimate enterprises, though none of the family chose to reside within its walls except her.

Stepping into the spacious living room, Emily let out a sigh of relief, shedding her hoodie and tossing it onto the long counter that stretched along one wall. The open floor plan, a design choice she had made herself, greeted her with its modern aesthetic, though the style fell short of her personal tastes. White couches adorned the space, their sleek lines offering little comfort, while the dining set seemed more suited to a showroom than a home.

Despite the impersonal decor, Emily had made the space her own in small ways, adding a cozy lounger where she could unwind and escape the demands of her hectic life. It was here, nestled beneath a soft blanket with a movie playing on the screen before her, that she found solace in the rare moments of downtime that she treasured.

As she settled into the familiar embrace of her apartment,Emily felt a sense of calm wash over her. Her last incursion had been a clusterfuck of epic proportions, and her intel had been wrong. Her uncle was usually diligent about security, as her failure was his, but they had missed the backup system.

She made her way to the bathroom. She wore only a bra now and checked her stitches. Mrs. Lim was a godsend. One of the few people who didn’t judge those she served. Her skills were impeccable, too, and though her flesh felt like someone had taken a saw to it, she knew it would heal. It wasn’t her first injury, but it was her first bullet.

She reached over and turned the water on in the shower before discarding her clothes. She placed a waterproof bandage over the wound and stepped under the warm water, letting it wash away her sins. Tears stung her eyes, but nobody would see them, not here in the confines of the shower. She was so tired. Not just physically. But of everything.

She sniffed and turned off the water before stepping out and grabbing a towel. The chrome-accented bathroom fixtures gleamed under the pot lights, but none of it was beautiful to her.

She exited the bathroom with the towel wrapped around her and made her way to the bedroom, avoiding the king-sized bed to move directly to the walk-in closet. She had received a text from her uncle on the way up to her apartment, insisting on a meet. He likely heard she was hurt and wanted to assess the damage. Not because he cared about her, but because she was the golden goose.

She removed the waterproof bandage and placed a clean covering over her wound before popping a few painkillers. She usually avoided them, but her hands were beginning to shake, and she needed to take the edge off the pain for the short walk to one of her uncle’s restaurants.

She then got dressed in a simple cotton blouse and black jeans before pulling on her short leather boots and heading outthe door. It was nice outside, and she decided she didn’t want a jacket.

She went to the elevator and hit the button, but as she entered and began to move toward the lobby, she had a strange sensation. It reminded her of her visitor, but closer somehow; it was almost as if he was going up while she was going down. She shook off the strange thought and exited the lift in the lobby. She was outside in the sun, walking toward the Chinese restaurant down the street and putting on her sunglasses as she went.

She crossed the street when the walking light blinked, and was entering the empty restaurant in seconds.

Emily entered the dimly lit Chinese restaurant, the aroma of savory spices mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee. The interior was adorned with traditional red-and-gold decor, lanterns casting a warm glow over the intimate dining space. The restaurant was empty except for her uncle seated at a table, and the imposing bodyguard standing like a sentinel by his side.

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