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  Liv was unsurprised to find John standing on the roof, looking out at the neighborhood. She sighed loudly when she stepped onto the rooftop.

  “Seriously, old man, do you want me to push you off this building?”

  He snickered, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and blowing his large nose. His thinning gray hair swayed in the breeze. He was wearing pajama bottoms but still had on the work shirt he’d worn earlier, which was streaked with grease and dirt. “You came all the way up here to bring me my meds, and I don’t think you’re going to try and kill me after all that.”

  She shrugged. “Not today I won’t. Tomorrow is a new day, though.”

  Liv pulled the bottle of pills out of her jeans pocket and held them up. “Take these or I’m going to start singing.”

  “Liv, I told you I don’t like how they make me feel.”

  As loudly and as horribly as she could, she started singing John’s favorite song, Ave Maria.

  Immediately he clapped his hands to his ears, the wrinkles on his long face deepening.

  “Fine, fine!” he yelled over her awful warbling. “I’ll take the dumb pills.”

  Liv smiled victoriously and handed him the bottle. “See, that’s not so hard, is it?”

  He opened the bottle and took out one of the small white pills, swallowing it dry. “But as you say, tomorrow is a new day.”

  “And it’s also a day when you’re going to stay up on your meds, or I’ll develop the bad habit of humming at work,” she said, singing the song again under her breath.

  He shook his head. “One of these days I’m going to fire you.”

  Liv smiled. “You’ve been threatening that for years. It doesn’t scare me anymore.”

  John strode past Liv to the fire escape. “Well, one of these days I just might surprise you. Don’t stay up here too long. I want you opening the shop tomorrow.”

  Liv saluted formally. “Aye aye, Captain.”

  She heard John greet Pickles when he was farther down the fire escape, probably about to climb back through his open window. Looking at the orange and pink sunset, Liv realized why John had gone up to the roof. He kept thinking he could fix his ailing heart with beauty or something. She’d told him there was no magic cure for heart disease, although she knew that wasn’t entirely true. Tomorrow she’d talk him into calling his doctor to change his medicine to something that didn’t upset his stomach. Tonight, she’d relax after a long and tiring day.

  Behind her, she heard the whooshing of air and tensed. It was a distinct sound, one she hadn’t heard in over five years.

  Liv’s hand flexed by her side. If she was quick, she could pull one of her tools from her back pocket. She nearly laughed at the ridiculous notion. Someone with magic was standing at her back, which meant she was absolutely screwed in defending herself.

  After all these years, they’d finally found her. There would be no running. No more hiding. It was time she faced her past.

  Tentatively, Liv spun and was surprised by who she found staring back at her.

  Chapter Three

  Liv let out a gasp. Doubt and confusion welled up in her. She tensed. Although she knew the face in front of her, for a moment her mind had trouble placing it, like she was suddenly in a strange dream, the kind full of strangers.

  Her mouth opened, but the name for the person didn’t roll out. Instead, it bounced around in her head as if she were trying to determine if she in fact had it correct.

  The figure was taller than she remembered, but maybe it was only the lights and shadows playing tricks on her. His jawline was definitely more distinct than in her memories. And those eyes! They were like those of her father’s ghost staring back at her, full of passion and warmth and carrying that trademark Beaufont cerulean blue.

  “C-C-Clark,” she finally said, uncertainty heavy in her voice. “How did you find me?”

  Liv took a step backward. Her older brother was wearing a dark traveling cloak of fine dragonhide over what looked to be a very uncomfortable suit. His blond hair was parted down the middle like how he’d always worn it.

  He tilted his head back and to the side, something he’d always done when he grew impatient. “Olivia, we’ve known where you were from the beginning. You were naïve to think the House wasn’t always keeping an eye on you.” Clark looked around at the dilapidated rooftop and similar old buildings in the distance. “What remained a mystery to us was why you chose this spot.”

  Liv folded her arms across her chest. “Because it has character and real people.”

  He sighed. “Non-magical people, you mean.”

  “They are still people, not that the House of Seven treats them that way. Or anyone else, really.”

  They’d been in each other’s presence for about a minute, and they were back to the same argument. Five years had changed nothing.

  “Olivia, I’m here because I need you to come back,” Clark said and pressed his lips together, realizing the severity of his request.

  She gave nothing away, only scowled and said, “My name is ‘Liv.’”

  He shook his head. “Your name is Olivia Beaufont, and you belong at the House of Seven. You always have. The council members have tolerated your need to rebel, but they won’t for much longer.”

  “They locked my magic,” she argued. “Why do they care what I’m doing as long as I’m not creating trouble for them?”

  The old anger she associated with her brother flared in his eyes. “You had no right to make those allegations. They’ve overlooked it, though. Chalked it up to you being young.”

  Liv laughed. Clark was barely a year older than her, but he had always treated her like she was so much younger than him, and didn’t understand the ways of the magical world.

  “Did they ever find out who murdered our parents?” Liv asked, but she already knew the answer because it was plainly written on her brother’s face.

  He shook his head.

  “Then I was right,” she asserted. “The House of Seven didn’t do enough to find out what happened to them. They dismissed the whole thing as a magical accident.”

  “It was an accident,” Clark corrected.

  “Two extraordinary magicians simply fall off the side of a mountain to their deaths? Really? You’re still buying that?”

  He shook his head more forceful this time, but his hair didn’t move. He loved his damn hair gel. “Olivia, you just never wanted to believe they could make a mistake. They were powerful, but they were still human. And unfortunately, humans make bad decisions. The conditions weren’t right to go up the Matterhorn. They fell and died. That was what happened.”

  For five years, she’d been trying to make sense of her parents’ death. They’d had no reason to be in the Swiss Alps, especially together. They weren’t ones to take risks. And yet, they’d done something that the House of Seven had deemed unadvisable. The case was shut after minimal investigation. Liv had protested. She’d created so much ruckus at the House of Seven that they were happy to see her leave when she did, and she hadn’t really looked back after all these years.

  What was back there for her, anyway? And even her siblings weren’t convinced that there had been any foul play. She hadn’t ever fit in there. Without her parents, she felt like a true loner, so she abdicated her role in the House of Seven, and with it, her magic. It had felt like the right thing to do at the time. Magic had only ever led to trouble as far as she was concerned. Well, the type of magic the House of Seven protected, anyway.

  “I thought I smelled something fishy,” Plato called from behind Liv. She didn’t turn around, but instead waited until the feline sidled up next to her.

  Looking down at him, she said, “He smells fishy?”

  “I smelled human magic,” Plato answered.

  She nodded, returning her gaze to Clark. He was glaring skeptically at Plato.

  “Where did you get him?” he asked, nodding in Plato’s direction.

  Liv rolled her eyes and rubbed her hands on h
er arms. The chill was starting to come on as the sun set at their backs. “I didn’t get him anywhere. That’s not how relationships work, but you wouldn’t know that. The House just acquires those they want to serve them.”

  Clark’s jaw flexed. “That’s not how it works. We protect.”

  Liv nodded dismissively. There was no point in going back through all this. It was always the same.

  “Clark, what are you doing here?” she asked after a long silence.

  “It’s Ian and Reese,” he explained, referring to their older brother and sister. They were powerful, having taken on their father and mother’s role of Warrior and Councilor when they’d died...or been murdered.

  “Oh, do they have a fancy family reunion they require me to attend?” Liv asked. “Tell them that I would, but I don’t have a thing to wear.” She looked down at her baggy jeans, faded t-shirt, and boots.

  “No,” Clark said impatiently, running his hand over his hair. “Olivia, they’re dead.”

  Liv opened her mouth, but she had no response. It hit her in the chest, making her feel she might stumble back a few feet. She hadn’t seen her older brother and sister in a long time, but that didn’t make the announcement of their death any easier. And the implications of their deaths nearly knocked her to the ground. When she felt Plato rub against her leg, she straightened, bringing her chin up from her chest where it had fallen without her realizing it.

  “I wanted to tell you this from the start, but how could I begin with that after not seeing you for so long?”

  “How did it happen?” Liv asked.

  “I found them,” Clark explained.

  “You?”

  “Well, what was left of them,” Clark said tensely. “I had to use a spell to identify them. They were in the old family cottage when a fire broke out.”

  “What? Why couldn’t they get away?”

  Clark shook his head. “I think they were drunk. Reese was probably practicing one of her potions or homemade spells. Things are confusing in the magical world right now. You have to understand that magic is at risk. Things like this keep happening.”

  “Magic has never been at risk,” Liv argued. “It is magic that puts us in danger.”

  “Regardless of how you feel about magic, you know there’s no stopping it. We can only contain and control it. That’s what the House of Seven does.”

  “That’s what the House of Seven says they do,” Liv stated, pressing her hands to her hips. “They write laws that benefit magicians.”

  “Damn it, Olivia!” Clark yelled loud enough to disrupt a flock of pigeons on an electrical wire. As they flew off, Plato followed them with his eyes. “It’s about justice.”

  “Justice is never about the law. It’s about doing the right thing, which I don’t remember being what the House of Seven does. Not if it contradicts their needs,” Liv fired back. “And damn it, my name is Liv.”

  Clark shook his head. “Regardless of your views, you know what this means.” He gulped, a rare sensitivity rising in his eyes. “Ian and Reese are dead. That makes us the next two eligible Beaufont children. I’m the next odd-numbered child, making me our family’s Councilor for the House. And you…”

  That would make me a Warrior, Liv thought, the true implications of this strange ordeal making her head cloud with frustration. She was the next even-numbered child in the Beaufont family.

  “But I abdicated,” she said in answer to the question hanging in the air.

  Clark nodded. “But due to the circumstances, the House of Seven is giving you a chance to take back your role.”

  “What about Sophia?” Liv asked, referring to their younger sister. She was the younger of twins, but Jamison didn’t survive long after birth. “She’s an even-numbered Beaufont child,” Liv reasoned.

  Clark’s gaze dropped with disappointment. “And she’s eight years old, not eligible for the role of Warrior for twelve years.”

  “You know I’ve never wanted this,” Liv stated bitterly.

  Clark nodded sympathetically. “I know, but you can’t ignore who you are forever. Your family needs you. The House of Seven needs you.”

  “Is the House of Seven still serving their own needs, without concern for real justice?”

  “It’s not like that,” Clark answered.

  “And if I don’t take the position?” Liv asked.

  Clark thought for a moment and shrugged. “I’m not sure. No family member has defaulted when called in a millennium. I really didn’t think you would. I mean, you only ran away before because you could. Because Ian and Reese took on the responsibilities for the family. But now that we need you, will you walk away?”

  Liv looked automatically at Plato, a question in her eyes.

  “I’m not sure,” the cat said contemplatively.

  Clark threw up his hands in automatic frustration. “You’re seeking the counsel of this lynx?”

  Liv had never thought of Plato as a lynx, but now that she heard the term, the teachings from her upbringing flew back to her. Plato was magical. She’d known that from the beginning, but she’d also trusted him.

  “Yes, I’m seeking his counsel. He’s the only one here not colored by the House of Seven,” Liv answered.

  “He’s a lynx,” Clark argued. “They only care about themselves. More so than any magician.”

  Liv didn’t think that was true, but she decided not to argue. “He’s not full of bullshit, which I can’t say for anyone else.”

  Plato’s green eyes shifted to the side before connecting with Liv’s. “There’s no harm in going to the House of Seven to listen to their offer. You don’t have to agree to it here, but you shouldn’t turn it down without knowing all the implications. And you can do things on your terms. It’s important to remember that.”

  Clark ground his teeth, his eyes close to rolling back in his head. “There are still certain rules and customs.”

  Liv pretended like she hadn’t heard him as she nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ll see what they have to say and do it my own way.”

  Clark shook his head, but still seemed relieved by this answer. “Fine. We should go immediately.”

  “I’ve got to work in the morning,” Liv told him, noticing how dark it had become.

  “Yes, but if you remember, the House of Seven meets at night,” Clark reminded her. He softly snapped his fingers, and a mostly green ball materialized in the air in front of them. There was only a tiny sliver of yellow, like a tiny piece of pie at the top of the orb. That was the way the House told time, and it was based on their priorities. “They are due to meet very soon,” Clark explained, glancing at the time orb.

  “Okay then, but I have to be back for work tomorrow morning,” Liv stated. “And I should fetch a jacket from my apartment before we go.”

  Clark looked her over. “I was thinking you should fetch more than just a jacket.”

  “Dress code is one of the many customs of the House I won’t be observing,” Liv snapped. “I’ll go like this or not at all.”

  Clark seemed to resist for a moment but then shook his head. He extended a hand, and Liv’s black hoodie materialized in his fingers. “Okay, fine, but know that they’ll be scrutinizing you. I’m only trying to help.”

  She took the hoodie, enjoying its soft warmth. “Well, lead the way, then. I’m sure they’ve changed the route to the blasted place since the last time I was there.”

  Clark extended a hand and a bright portal opened on the rooftop, shimmering with nearly blinding blues and greens. “We have to take the back route. This will lead to the Santa Monica entrance.”

  Liv looked down at Plato. “You ready for this?”

  “Wait, the lynx is going?” Clark asked, holding out an arm.

  “Of course he is,” she said. “And his name is Plato. Is this a problem?”

  Clark thought for a moment, then dropped his hand and shook his head. “I guess not.”

  Liv gave Plato a wink as they stepped through the portal
together.

  Chapter Four

  It had been so long since Liv had traveled through a portal that she had forgotten the weird sensation it created in the pit of her stomach. She used to tell her father that the feeling was unnatural, and he always replied the same way: “Nothing is more natural than portal magic. Once you believe that, it won’t be so strange.”

  As she sank to her knees, overwhelmed by nausea, she couldn’t disagree more with him. Hunched over and tasting something acidic in her mouth, Liv tried to remember to breathe. She forgot her surroundings until a hand clapped her shoulder softly, encouraging her to get up.

  “Are you all right?” Clark asked, pulling her to a standing position.

  “She hasn’t assimilated yet,” Plato said in his usually casual voice.

  “I know that, but I’m checking to ensure she’s okay,” Clark told the feline. “There’s something I can give her if she’s experiencing portal sickness.”

  “That only bandages the problem,” Plato countered. “She has to adapt.”

  Clark didn’t respond, but the frustrated sigh that fell out of his mouth explained how he felt about the cat’s unsolicited advice.

  Liv shook her head and blinked at her surroundings, realizing what Plato meant. She wasn’t going to feel any better until she took in her environment using her senses.

  The rushing of the Pacific Ocean on the beach in the far distance was barely audible over the drum music and loud voices. They were on the boardwalk in Santa Monica, a short distance from the pier where the neon lights of the Ferris wheel and roller coaster could be seen glowing as they moved.

  Around them tourists and locals jostled by on bikes, skateboards, scooters, or on foot. No one paid her any attention, probably assuming she’d just stumbled drunkenly out of the pub beside them. The ocean breeze felt refreshing on Liv’s face as she took a deep breath—which she instantly regretted when the smell of pot and fried food assaulted her olfactory senses. She exhaled through her mouth and nodded at Clark, who was looking at her as if she were a fragile doll that might shatter.