Page 32 of Spring L.A.W.
They both paused, taking in the chaos, the glowing bread, and Katie’s “this-is-fine, I'm fine, Everything-is-fine,” crouch and embarrassed smile.
“Did you touchanything?” Payne asked, voice like gravel wrapped in exasperation.
Katie stood slowly. “Um… Define ‘touch.’”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “She’s going to be fun.”
Payne sighed. “Katie, meet Rayna. She’s going to keep you alive.”
Katie pointed at the bread. “Is that before or after you make me eat the radioactive toast?”
Rayna didn’t smile. But her eyes crinkled just a little. “Before,” she said.
Then Payne shook his head and muttered, “Redheads.” Payne reached into his jacket, pulled out a silver remote that looked like it should launch missiles, and pointed it at the wall. A perfectly normal-looking electrical panel slid aside to reveal a glowing circle etched into the concrete.
Katie blinked. “Please tell me that’s a teleporter and not, like, a branding iron.”
Rayna stepped up to the circle. “Close enough.”
Katie looked at Payne. “You’re not coming?”
“I’ve got cleanup to handle,” he said, eyeing the haphazard papers and the still-glowing bread. “And someone’s going to have to explain this to procurement.”
Then Rayna grabbed Katie’s wrist, and the basement disappeared in asnapof magic and motion.
They rematerializedin what Katie could only describe as “rich witch chic.” The L.A.W. mansion looked like Martha Stewart had hosted a coven refresh and then left mid-modernization. High ceilings, magical artifacts that looked both antique and ready for a Sotheby's auction, and a vague smell of cedar, citrus, and ominous potions.
“Holy shit,” Katie whispered. “You guys have abase?”
Rayna was already striding down the hallway, issuing orders into a sleek headset like she was late to a coup. A black cat joined the procession and followed closely behind them.
“Get me Victoria on the monitor. Magda and Sahara, too. I’ll round up Joell, Crystal, and Lioness. I think they’re still here. In five. Full briefing.”
She looked back at Katie. “You’re going to meet the others.”
Katie’s stomach did a complicated flip-flop. “Others?”
Rayna stopped at a wide wooden door with intricate carvings that pulsed faintly when her hand hovered near the handle. She glanced at Katie. “You’re not the only one who’s seen the Gray. But youarethe only civilian we know of who is still alive and uninfected.”
“What’s all this ‘uninfected’ talk? I’m not an antivaxer, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve had all my shots.”
The door swung open, revealing a massive war room with a long oval table, chairs made of something far too regal for IKEA, and several magical screens already flickering to life.
Victoria’s face appeared first, sharp and elegant, her Montreal living room a neutral minimalist backdrop.
Then Magda blinked onto another monitor, upside down. “Sorry, tech’s acting a bit weird down here,” she muttered in an Australian accent as she flipped her camera.
Sahara’s screen lit up last, the glow of ancient runes reflecting off some kind of stone with golden light. “I’m here. What’s the emergency?”
A couple of other witches entered the room and sat quietly.
Joell sat at the head of the table. “We have a civilian. Dream bleed, graffiti pattern recognition, visual contact with the Gray. She’s stable. She’s snarky. And she might be the key to figuring out what’s coming next.”
All eyes turned to Katie.
She waved awkwardly. “Hi. Um. I brought toaster chaos?”
Magda leaned toward the camera. “I don’t know what that means, but Ilikeher.”
