Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

CATALINA

C atalina's heart pounded as she made her way back toward the home she shared with her sisters and her aunt. Her aunt—now there was as thorny a problem as O'Riley's club. She needed to find a way to speak to her sisters privately and bring them up-to-speed on her meeting with the Fae Council, and their aunt's presence there.

The entire encounter at The Thorny Rose, including having sex with Riker, still buzzed through her veins, but it wasn't just the adrenaline from the fight. It was him . Riker. Her initial irritation with his gruff demeanor and distrust of her kind had evolved into something far more complicated, and it had done so quickly. The man was infuriating, and yet there was something about him, something primal and magnetic.

But she didn't have time to dwell on that—not now.

She shook her head and focused on what mattered: the dark magic, the shapeshifter on the rise, and the possibility that the city was in greater danger than anyone realized. She needed to focus on the investigation and nothing else. There was no time to indulge in whatever sparks had ignited between her and Riker. There were lives at stake, and her personal feelings couldn't interfere.

As the next day stretched into late afternoon, Catalina knew there was only one person she could go to for help. She needed someone who could navigate both the digital and magical undercurrents of New Orleans—someone who had connections on both sides of the supernatural world. And that someone was Glitch Martinez.

Glitch was half fae, half human—like her and her sisters. Rejected by both worlds, Glitch had created his own path, a path that revolved around his mastery of magic where it intersected with anything high-tech. He was an information dealer and a master hacker, able to access the darkest corners of the digital and magical landscapes. If there was anyone who could help her get a clearer picture of what was happening, it was Glitch.

Catalina reached for her phone and dialed the number. It rang twice before Glitch's smooth voice came through.

"Catalina. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need your help," she said, cutting straight to the point. "It's big, Glitch. Bigger than anything we've dealt with before."

There was a pause, and Catalina could hear the familiar clattering of his high-tech, ergonomic keyboards in the background—one of which he controlled by a combination of magic and thought. Glitch was always working on something, usually multiple somethings, all at once.

"All right," he said slowly. "You've got my attention. Come over to the shop. We'll talk."

C atalina arrived at Glitch's hideout, a nondescript tech shop on the outskirts of the city that doubled as his headquarters for more clandestine operations. The front of the store was filled with old computer parts, monitors, and other tech odds and ends, but the real action took place in the back, behind a series of enchanted wards that kept out unwanted eyes and ears.

As soon as she stepped inside, she felt the pulse of magic in the air—Glitch's signature blend of fae power and technological genius.

"Back here," Glitch called from behind a maze of servers and monitors.

She followed his voice and found him perched in front of a dozen screens, each displaying lines of code, news feeds, and magical signatures. Glitch was tall and lean, with sharp features and a mop of unruly black hair. His eyes glowed faintly with the trace of his fae heritage, but the rest of him was pure human. Well, almost.

"What's going on, Catalina?" Glitch asked, turning away from the screens to face her. "You sounded rattled on the phone. You Duvall girls never sound rattled."

Catalina sighed, running a hand through her hair. "It's bad, Glitch. There's a shapeshifter working its way through both human and fae power structures. People are dying, and demons are involved. It's all connected, but I can't figure out how."

Glitch's expression turned serious. "Demons, huh? That's a new level of bad. And you said this shapeshifter is involved?"

Catalina nodded. "We think so. Finn O'Riley hinted that whoever this is, it's playing both sides. But the real kicker is that it's working for something bigger. I don't know what it is yet, but I need your help to dig deeper."

Glitch frowned, his fingers tapping absently on his keyboard. "Okay. Let me run a few scans, check the city's magical infrastructure, and see if I can find any digital anomalies that match what you're describing."

For the next hour, Catalina paced the room while Glitch worked his magic, his eyes darting between screens as he sifted through the city's digital and magical undercurrents. She couldn't sit still, the events of the past twenty-four hours replaying in her mind. The attack at The Thorny Rose, her near-death experience with Riker at her side, the amazing sex she'd had with Riker, the growing tension between the fae and the human world—everything was spiraling out of control.

Just as Glitch was about to say something, Catalina's phone rang. She frowned, pulling it from her pocket. The caller ID flashed a familiar name—Maeve.

Her aunt rarely called, especially in situations like this. Catalina's suspicions immediately flared.

"Maeve," she answered. "What's going on?"

"Catalina," Maeve's voice was soft, almost too soft. "I need to see you. There's something you need to know. But it's not safe to talk over the phone. I can explain about the council meeting, but I don't want to get into it in front of your sisters."

That made some sense. Of the four of them, Catalina was the most inclined to give the fae world some wiggle room. "Where are you?"

"I'll send you the location. Catalina, I need you to come alone."

Maeve hung up before Catalina could respond. The phone buzzed again a second later, this time with an address. Catalina glanced at Glitch, who had been watching her carefully.

"Trouble?" he asked.

"Maybe," Catalina muttered. "That was Maeve. She wants to meet."

"Your aunt? What's that look on your face? Has she done something that makes you not trust her?"

She changed her expression to a neutral mask. "No. Just family stuff."

Glitch didn't look convinced as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "You want backup?"

"No," Catalina said after a moment. "I'll go alone. But keep digging. If Maeve is involved in this, I need to know everything."

Glitch nodded; his expression grim. "Be careful, Catalina. If your gut's telling you something's off, you're probably right."

T he meeting place Maeve had chosen was in one of the older parts of the city, far from the usual hustle and bustle of the French Quarter. Catalina arrived at the location Maeve had sent—the Warehouse District. The building was an old warehouse near the river, its windows boarded up, and the paint on the walls peeling from years of neglect. The perfect place for a clandestine meeting.

As she stepped inside, Catalina called out, "Maeve? Maeve?"

Nothing but silence greeted her, and Maeve was nowhere to be found.

Catalina's senses went on high alert. She scanned the room, every inch of it, for any sign of her aunt. The air felt thick with magic, but not the comforting kind she was used to. This was dark, twisted, and wrong. Her gut clenched, and she realized with growing certainty that something was very, very wrong.

Catalina's heart raced as the doors of the warehouse slammed shut behind her, echoing through the dimly lit space. The air was thick with anticipation, magic buzzing just below the surface. She scanned the room, her eyes narrowing at the shadows that danced between the broken beams of light filtering through the cracked windows. The oppressive, malevolent energy in the room screamed danger. She wasn't alone, and it was clear now that Maeve had led her straight into a trap.

"Traitor," a voice hissed from the shadows.

Catalina whipped around just in time to see a group of fae purists step into the dim light. Their cold, calculating eyes burned with disdain. There were five of them—tall, imposing figures, their faces contorted with the kind of hatred that only comes from centuries of deep-seated prejudice.

"You and your sisters have tainted our kind," one of the purists snarled, his silver hair catching the faint light as he stepped forward. "Your mother betrayed us by choosing a mortal. You and your sisters should never have been born."

Catalina's pulse quickened, her hands curling into fists at her sides, sparks of violet magic already crackling at her fingertips. "You think you can erase what my mother did? Her legacy is stronger than you'll ever be."

The purist sneered, raising his hand. Dark magic rippled from his palm, coiling like a serpent before shooting toward her with blinding speed.

Catalina reacted on instinct. Her wings unfurled in a burst of brilliant light, and she leaped into the air, narrowly dodging the blast. It struck the ground where she had been standing moments before, leaving a charred, smoldering crater.

"Is that all you've got?" she taunted, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

The purists wasted no time. The warehouse erupted into chaos as they unleashed their magic—dark, twisted energy that crackled and hissed through the air like venomous snakes. Catalina's wings flared, and she dodged left and right, weaving through the onslaught of magical attacks. She summoned her own power, lightning sparking from her hands as she retaliated, sending bolts of energy streaking toward her attackers.

The first bolt struck one of the purists in the chest, sending him flying backward into a pile of debris. He crashed against the wall with a sickening thud, crumpling to the ground in a heap. But there were still four more.

"You'll pay for your mother's sins!" another purist shouted; his voice filled with venom as he summoned a swirling vortex of energy in his hands.

He hurled it toward her, but Catalina was ready. She spun in mid-air, her wings giving her the speed and agility she needed to evade the attack. The vortex missed her by inches, crashing into the wall behind her and sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air.

Before she could catch her breath, another purist was on her. This one was faster, more precise, his dark magic swirling around him like a deadly storm. He raised his hand, and tendrils of shadow shot out from his fingertips, snaking through the air toward Catalina.

Her heart skipped a beat as the shadows wrapped around her ankles, pulling her down toward the ground. She slammed into the floor with a grunt, the impact knocking the wind from her lungs. The purist tightened the grip of his magic, the shadows coiling around her like a noose, squeezing the life from her.

Panic flared in Catalina's chest, but she forced it down, her mind racing for a solution. With a sharp inhale, she summoned all her strength and let out a furious scream, her wings flaring with a blinding surge of energy. The raw power of her magic exploded outward, shattering the tendrils of shadow and sending the purist stumbling backward.

Catalina wasted no time. She launched herself to her feet, her hands crackling with lightning as she sent a bolt directly into the purist's chest. He screamed as the electricity surged through him, his body convulsing before he collapsed, unconscious.

But the remaining three purists were already closing in, their dark magic swirling around them, hungry and dangerous. One of them—a tall woman with eyes as cold as ice—raised her hand, summoning a wall of fire that roared to life in an instant, cutting off Catalina's escape.

"Do you think you can fight us all?" the woman taunted, her voice low and dangerous.

Catalina's pulse raced as the wall of fire closed in around her, the heat licking at her skin. She could feel the power radiating from the purists, dark and suffocating, but she wasn't about to back down. Not now.

"You underestimate me," Catalina growled, her voice steady despite the panic tightening in her chest. "And that's your biggest mistake."

With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a gust of wind that ripped through the flames, parting the fire just long enough for her to leap through. She landed in a crouch, her wings glowing with violet light as she unleashed a torrent of lightning at the nearest purist.

The bolt struck true, sending him crashing to the ground in a heap, smoke rising from his singed clothing. Two left.

The woman sneered, raising both hands as she summoned twin spears of fire. They spun in her palms for a brief moment before she hurled them at Catalina with deadly precision.

Catalina's wings snapped open, and she shot into the air, the spears whizzing past her as she dodged the attack. She spun in mid-air, her magic thrumming through her veins as she sent another blast of lightning streaking toward the woman.

The purist screamed as the lightning hit her, her body convulsing as the energy coursed through her. But before Catalina could strike again, the last purist—a hulking man with black tattoos snaking up his arms—charged at her, his fists crackling with dark energy.

Catalina barely had time to react. He was fast—too fast. He swung his fist, and she barely managed to raise her arms in time to block the blow. The impact sent her skidding across the floor, her wings flaring as she tried to regain her balance.

The purist didn't let up. He was on her in an instant, his fists swinging in a flurry of brutal attacks. Catalina dodged and weaved, her heart pounding as she struggled to keep up with his speed and strength.

But then she saw it—a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Maeve. Her aunt was slipping away through a side door, a small, glowing artifact clutched in her hands.

No. No, it can't be.

The realization hit Catalina like a punch to the gut. Maeve had set her up. This whole ambush had been nothing more than a distraction, a way to keep Catalina busy while Maeve made off with some magical artifact.

Rage flared in Catalina's chest, hot and furious. She was done playing defense. With a guttural scream, she let loose a blast of pure, unfiltered magic, her power surging through the room like a storm.

The hulking purist was caught off guard, his eyes widening in shock as the wave of magic hit him full force. He was thrown backward, crashing into the far wall with enough force to splinter the wood. He didn't get up.

Catalina didn't wait to see if he was still conscious. She bolted toward the door where Maeve had disappeared, her wings propelling her forward with blinding speed.

But when she reached the hallway, Maeve was already gone.

The warehouse was eerily silent, the only sound the ragged beating of Catalina's heart. She stood there for a moment, her chest heaving, her mind racing. Maeve had betrayed her, and whatever artifact she had stolen, it was powerful—dangerous.

Catalina clenched her fists, her magic still crackling in the air around her.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. Maeve was gone, and Catalina could sense the powerful magical artifact her aunt had taken. It pulsed faintly in the distance, but it was already slipping out of her reach.

With one last glance at the fallen purists behind her, Catalina turned and stormed out of the warehouse. She didn't know what Maeve was up to, but she was going to find out. And when she did, there would be hell to pay.