Page 14 of Autumn L.A.W

“I mean… it is New York,” Joell offered weakly.

Before Rayna could knock, the door creaked open.

A tallish man with ginger hair tied neatly at his nape, and almond-shaped, carnelian eyes, stood there. He didn’t look whimsical. He looked dangerously competent.

“You’re late,” he said mildly.

Rayna glared. “No. You’re early.”

“Time is a flexible concept.”

Rayna turned to Joell. “If he starts talking about reiki as a design for living, I’m leaving.”

To her irritation, his lips twitched like he found that amusing. “Come in.”

The inside smelled faintly of eucalyptus, sandalwood, and something Rayna didn’t recognize, but it made something coil in her chest like pure magic. The walls held shelves of herbs and potions arranged with Martha Stewart precision. No clutter. No chaos. No ego. No instant red flag.

“Real magic,” Joell whispered, impressed.

Rayna elbowed her. “Be cool.”

Ezra’s last name was still a mystery, but she deduced it didn’t matter from the sign. He studied them quietly.

“You’ve been contaminated by foreign resonance,” he said. No preamble. No dramatic flourish. Just a fact.

Rayna stiffened. “We didn’t tell you that.”

“I didn’t need you to.”

A long silence followed as they sized up each other.

Joell coughed. “We’re okay, but we have two more, badly affected. Can you help?”

Ezra nodded once. “Take me to them.”

Rayna jabbed a finger at him. “If you try anything weird, I swear I’ll hex your chakras into next week.”

Ezra actually looked amused. “Noted.”

He took a slim black leather kit from a shelf and followed them out.

Wind chimes clinked behind them like they were laughing.

Sometimes the mansion did not like visitors, especially those carrying powerful magic. The foyer lanterns dimmed sharply when Ezra crossed the threshold, like annoyed eyes narrowing. A floorboard groaned in judgment. A door slammed upstairs without any wind.

Ezra paused. “This house is alive.”

Rayna waved a hand. “Semi-sentient. And petty. Sometimes dramatic, but it let you in.”

“But it growled.”

“Its bark isn’t worse than its bite, but if you were a threat, you’d have been bitten in half.”

He adjusted his stance, careful where his boots landed, as if the floor itself deserved respect.

Rayna led him to the parlor. “This is Sahara,” she said, pointing.

Sahara lay curled on the long sofa, pale and sweating despite the chill in the air. Her Desert Fox familiar was curled against her hip. Its long ears flattened and its tail wrapped protectively around her side.