Page 86 of Summer L.A.W.

“It wasn’t that resilient,” Chad muttered. “And he’s been charting his symptoms. In graphs. There’s a line plot labeled ‘yearning amplitude’. I didn’t even know yearning could have amplitude.”

Joell groaned. “Magda, sweetie. You made the man quantify longing.”

Chad held up a finger. “Which is why I called you in here. We need a counterspell. A cooling effect. Something grounding. A⁠—”

“A chill pill?” Rayna suggested.

Chad sagged in relief. “Yes. That. All of you may need to contribute, but Magda and Sebastian have to make it together. He only responds well to her.”

Magda froze. “Me?”

“His assistant brought soup,” Chad said. “He cried into it. I tried motivational speaking. He cried because I referenced the weather. He doesn’t even like musicals, and he cried at the lyrics of Tomorrow from Annie.”

Lioness blinked. “He doesn’t like musicals?”

“No,” Chad said flatly. “But the point is, he’s too emotionally unstable for anyone else to help. You two brewed the problem together; you two have to fix it together.”

Sahara nodded thoughtfully. “So, we need something cooling. Mint. Eucalyptus. Cold iron for grounding and protection.”

Rayna rubbed her hands together. “An emotional palate cleanser.”

Magda swallowed. “And Sebastian and I co-lead?”

“Yes,” Chad said. “Preferably before he starts writing ballads about moss.”

Rayna stood, clapping her hands once. “All right, witches. Love Potion #6 starts now. Or is it #7? Screw it. Let’s fix Magda’s broken scientist before he floods Long Island with sentimental runoff.”

Wally hopped onto the table, made a soft “mrrrp,” and presented Magda with a mint leaf he’d stolen from somewhere.

“Yes. Mint, cooling.” Joell smirked. “Even Wally knows his stuff.”

Magda exhaled slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The mansion’s lanterns flickered in a long-suffering way that suggested it expected them to solve every magical mess they created—and it wasn’t wrong.

22

Morning sunlight poured through the mansion’s east windows, bright enough to reveal just how badly Major Payne had lost a fight with his uniform. His shirt buttons were misaligned, and his jacket was open, giving the impression he’d dressed either in the dark or in a hurry, brought on by enthusiastic distractions.

Rayna leaned against the doorframe of the open front mansion doors, amused and smug. “Adam, sweetheart,” she murmured, “I adore you, but you look like your uniform had a mental breakdown.”

He looked down. “Ah. Right.”

Rayna drifted over, reached up, and kissed him deeply while fixing his buttons. “This is what happens,” she said quietly, “when you stay up half the night, reminding me how much you missed me.”

Payne smirked. “I regret nothing.”

She hooked two fingers into his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him goodbye again while buttoning his jacket. Slow, deep, and smug enough to derail a morning report. By the time she released him, his uniform was perfect. He, however, was not.

“I have to go,” he said, slightly breathless. “Emergency briefing.”

“You’ll do great,” she purred, pushing him toward the door. “Try not to blush if someone mentions Long Island.”

He did blush. Hard. Then he fled.

Rayna sauntered into the hall wearing the expression of a woman who’d won something important. And she had. Payne promised not to push her for an answer regarding their engagement. They could carry on enjoying each other with no pressure whatsoever.

Victoria stood near the front staircase, suitcase packed, phone in hand. She looked effortlessly glamorous, like she’d stepped straight out of a Montreal fashion ad.