Chapter 1

Chapter

One

CATALINA

T he neon-drenched streets of New Orleans pulsed with a frenetic energy, a fusion of the magical and human worlds that never slept. Amidst the skyscrapers and towering spires of old churches, a streak of violet cut through the night sky. Most of those looking at the night sky didn't see it, and those who did didn't pay it much attention. Catalina, her crackling wings leaving a trail of sparks, touched down on a rain-slicked rooftop, her eyes scanning the crowds below. She brushed her long, strawberry blonde hair back over her shoulders and double checked to ensure that what she had been wearing hadn't been set askew by her trip through the city.

For months, she had been tracking a shape-shifting demon who had wormed its way into the city's underworld. Tonight, she was close—she could feel it like a static charge that danced across her skin.

Seeing nothing from where she perched, she took off once more. As she flew, she reflected on how different the world of the fae was from that of the human world. The human world would be something of a shock to those of the fae realm—loud, polluted, and often hostile to magical beings. But she and her sisters had adapted.

Now, she was one of the most effective demon hunters in New Orleans, straddling the line between two worlds that still struggled to coexist.

Catalina landed in a narrow alley, the smell of ozone filling the air as her feet touched the ground. Ahead, a nightclub's pulsing lights spilled onto the street. The Thorny Rose—a known hangout for both human and supernatural criminals.

As she approached, a burly bouncer eyed her suspiciously. "We don't want any trouble with the fae tonight," he growled.

Catalina flashed a wry smile. "Then let's hope I don't find any."

Inside, the club was a riot of sensory overload. Humans danced alongside vampires and shifters of all kinds, while pixies flitted overhead, trailing glitter. The humans, when they bothered, interpreted the pixies as some kind of visual illusion. In addition, the beverages and food consumed by patrons of the club contained a powerful chemical that affected only humans. It erased the memory of anything happening at the club of supernatural origin, leaving them with only good, if somewhat vague, feelings about their experience. Catalina made her way to the bar, scanning faces and auras.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite sparkplug," a gravelly voice called out. Catalina turned to see Detective Riker sliding onto the stool next to her. The human cop looked as rough as ever. She'd met him through her sister Phoenix's mate, Griffin Broussard.

"I thought you knew better than to get involved in anything magical, Riker," Catalina said, but there was no real heat in her words. Despite their differences, the detective had proven to be, if not an ally, then at least a neutral party.

Riker shrugged. "You know me, can't resist a good inter-dimensional crime spree. Word on the street is your shapeshifter's got bigger plans than just running the local syndicates."

Catalina leaned in; her voice low. "What have you heard?"

Before Riker could answer, screams erupted from the dance floor. The crowd parted to reveal a grotesque sight—a patron's body twisting and elongating, flesh rippling as it transformed into something decidedly not human.

"Looks like your dance partner's arrived," Riker quipped, drawing his gun.

Catalina was already moving, wings unfurling as she launched herself towards the chaos. The demon—for that's surely what it was—had fully transformed now into a mass of writhing tentacles and gnashing teeth.

"Everyone out!" Catalina shouted. As panicked clubgoers fled, she raised her hands, calling down a bolt of lightning that shattered the skylight and struck the demon dead center.

The creature roared in pain but didn't fall. Instead, it lashed out with surprising speed, a tentacle wrapping around Catalina's ankle and slinging her into a wall.

Dazed, Catalina struggled to her feet. The demon loomed over her, its form shifting again, taking on a more humanoid appearance. With a jolt of recognition, Catalina realized she was looking at a twisted reflection of herself.

"Did you really think it would be that easy, little faery?" the demon hissed, its voice a chilling mimicry of her own. "You've walked right into our trap."

"Our?" Catalina gasped, trying to buy time as she gathered her power.

The demon's laugh was cruel. "Did you think I was working alone? The barriers between worlds are weakening, Catalina. Soon, the old laws that bind us will crumble, and both your precious fae realm and this human cesspool will be ours for the taking."

Catalina's mind raced. This was bigger than a single demon crime lord—it was a full-scale invasion plan.

With a defiant cry, Catalina unleashed her full power. Lightning arced from her body, filling the club with blinding light as Riker charged the demon. It shrieked, its form destabilizing under the onslaught. As sirens wailed in the distance, the demon shifted again and was gone.

"Go," said Riker. "I'll deal with the cops."

Catalina nodded in thanks and then slipped up the back stairs to the rooftop, spreading her wings and taking to the skies as the eastern horizon began to lose the inky blackness of full night. She had a sneaky suspicion the work was only beginning. There were conspiracies to unravel and a city to protect. The storm was just beginning.

C atalina glided through the sky above the city, heading from the French Quarter to the tree-lined Garden District, her wings shimmering faintly in the dim light of dawn. The streetcars clattered past, oblivious to the world she was a part of and completely distinct and apart from it. She felt it in her bones—the rising tension, the way the air thrummed with a sense of impending magic. New Orleans, the Crescent City, her home, had always been a melting pot of supernatural energies, but now, something was wrong. Something dark. Something dangerous.

Her destination was a place she knew well, an old, sprawling mansion that had been in her father's family for centuries. Its grand fa?ade loomed in the distance, standing stoically among the ornate homes of the Garden District. The Duvall family mansion was more than just a home—it was a fortress, a nexus of magical power imbued into its walls by her mother and reinforced by each of her sisters and herself as they came of age and into their power at sixteen.

As she landed silently in the courtyard, her wings folded in behind her, fading into nothing more than a whisper of violet light. The oak trees lining the path swayed gently, their ancient boughs heavy with secrets. Catalina inhaled deeply, grounding herself. The scent of jasmine and crepe myrtle mingled with the earthy aroma of the damp ground, a heady reminder of how deeply rooted her family was in this place.

The mansion's towering doors creaked open as if sensing her arrival, revealing Savannah standing in the grand foyer, her eyes a striking shade of blue that seemed to catch the fading light. Her sister had always been the most attuned to the ebb and flow of magic in the city, and today was no exception.

"You're late," Savannah said with a half-smile, though her eyes held the weight of worry.

"Had to check out a disturbance by the riverfront," Catalina replied, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "It's getting worse, Sav. The Quarter's crawling with spirits, and the energy is volatile."

"I know. We've all felt it." Savannah's voice dropped to a whisper, the seriousness of the situation grounding her usual mischievous nature.

They walked down the long hall together, the familiar creak of floorboards underfoot echoing through the mansion and providing a certain level of comfort and familiarity. Catalina's eyes drifted to the paintings that lined the walls—portraits of their ancestors, each of them looking proud and formidable. It was a reminder of the legacy she bore on the human side of her ancestry, a weight she sometimes wished she could shed. But there was no time for that now. The city needed them.

Entering the study, Catalina found her other two sisters—Phoenix and Geneva—already gathered with their aunt, Maeve. The room was heavy with the scent of incense, the atmosphere thick with magic as ancient runes glittered across the bookshelves. Phoenix, the eldest of the four sisters, was pacing near the fireplace, her ash blonde hair catching the glow of the flames. Geneva, usually the calmest, sat cross-legged in an oversized armchair, flipping through one of the ancient tomes Maeve kept locked away.

"Catalina," Phoenix said without looking up, "You're just in time."

"For what?" Catalina asked, pulling off her jacket and tossing it onto the back of a chair.

"For this." Phoenix gestured to the large map spread across the table. It was a map of New Orleans, but not the kind tourists would buy. This map was enchanted, with the city grid superimposed over the ley lines of the area, its surface shifting and shimmering as if the city were alive and pulsing with magic. Tiny dots of light blinked across the map, each one marking a point of supernatural disturbance.

Maeve, their aunt, stood at the head of the table, her wild silver hair pulled back into a haphazard bun. Her face was calm, but Catalina could see the worry in her eyes. Maeve rarely showed fear, but this was different.

"We've been tracking the supernatural activity," Maeve said, her voice smooth and even. "It's been increasing steadily over the past few weeks, but in the last forty-eight hours, it's escalated dramatically."

Catalina leaned over the map. The French Quarter, Garden District, and Warehouse District were all lit up like stars. But the epicenter seemed to be right over the Fae Quarter, the hidden part of the city where the fae conducted their affairs away from mortal eyes.

Geneva joined them at the table, tracing a line with her finger, connecting the glowing points. "It's not random. Whatever this is, it's coordinated. Spirits, rogue shifters, and even a few demon sightings—all in places of significance to us."

"To the fae," Phoenix corrected, her eyes narrowing as she peered over Geneva's shoulder.

"The council won't like this," Maeve muttered.

The Fae Council was notoriously protective of their secrets, and any breach near their quarter was a serious threat. If this pattern continued, it could mean a full-scale magical conflict.

"We need to figure out what's causing this, and fast," Savannah said. "If we don't get a handle on it, the council might decide to seal off the Fae Quarter entirely."

"That's not all." Maeve's voice cut through the room like a blade. "I've been in contact with an old friend of mine. There's something stirring in the lower planes. The veil between worlds is thinning."

"Again?" Savannah scoffed.

Catalina felt a chill crawl up her spine. "The lower planes?"

Maeve nodded gravely. "We're not just dealing with restless spirits. If the veil weakens further, we could be looking at an influx of demons or worse."

Silence hung in the room for a moment as the gravity of Maeve's words sank in. Catalina clenched her fists. She wasn't just going to sit around while the city she loved fell into chaos.

"I'll go out again tonight," Catalina said, her wings itching to unfurl. "The French Quarter and the Warehouse District have been hot spots for the last few days. I'll do another sweep."

Before anyone could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door, followed by a faint shimmer of magic in the air. Catalina's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the magic. It was fae.

Maeve crossed the room, her flowing skirts brushing against the floor as she opened the door. A small, glowing orb floated in, its light soft and pulsing. Catalina knew what it was immediately—a message from the Fae Council.

"It's for you," Maeve said, her eyes locking with Catalina's.

The orb floated toward Catalina, hovering before her as if waiting for permission. She reached out and touched it lightly. The orb burst into light, its message flooding into her mind. The voice was formal, cold.

"Catalina Duvall, the council requests your presence for a clandestine meeting in the Fae Quarter. This matter is of utmost urgency. You are to come alone."

The light faded, leaving the room dim once more. Catalina blinked, feeling the full weight of the message. The Fae Council had banished her mother for having fallen in love with a human. Maeve had chosen to leave with her sister. At best, the Duvall family and the Fae Council had a wary and fragile alliance and tended to avoid dealing with one another.

"A meeting?" Savannah frowned, clearly suspicious. "Now? With everything going on?"

"They must know something we don't," Phoenix muttered. "Be careful, Cat. The council doesn't summon people unless they have a reason."

Catalina nodded. "I'll go. But I'm not waiting for morning."

"The Fae Quarter is hidden, even from us," Geneva warned. "Make sure you're ready for whatever they throw at you."

"Always," Catalina said, her voice firm despite the unease creeping into her bones.

Maeve placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Trust your instincts, but be wary, Catalina. The Fae Council plays dangerous games, especially when they call for secrecy."

"I'll be fine," Catalina reassured them, though her thoughts swirled with uncertainty. She couldn't shake the feeling that this meeting was just the beginning of something much larger.

With a final nod to her sisters, Catalina stepped outside, her wings unfurling in a burst of violet light. The cool pre-dawn air wrapped around her as she took to the sky, soaring high above the Garden District. Below her, New Orleans sprawled out in all its chaotic beauty, a city filled with magic, mystery, and danger.

The French Quarter glittered in the distance, its streets alive with music and laughter, but beneath that vibrant fa?ade, something darker was at work. Catalina's keen eyes scanned the city, every shadow and flicker of light a potential threat. She moved swiftly, her wings cutting through the air as she flew over the rooftops, her senses alert for any sign of trouble.

As she neared the Fae Quarter, the air around her grew heavy with magic. It was a place few knew existed, hidden deep within the heart of New Orleans. Only those with fae blood could find it, and even then, it was a dangerous place to tread.

Catalina landed silently in the shadow of an ancient oak, its roots twisting deep into the earth. The entrance to the Fae Quarter was just ahead, a shimmering veil of magic that rippled like water in the air. She took a deep breath and stepped through, her body tingling as the magic enveloped her.

On the other side, the world was different—brighter, sharper. The buildings here were older, their architecture a blend of fae and human design. The streets were eerily quiet, but Catalina could feel eyes on her from every shadow.

She walked with purpose, her heart pounding in her chest. Whatever the council had to say, she was ready to hear it. The fate of her family, New Orleans, and perhaps even the world hung in the balance.