The Relic Graves looked innocent enough from the outside – just another quaint antique shop in a row of historic buildings. The faded gold lettering on the window proclaimed "Rare Books & Curiosities," a description that was both accurate and wildly inadequate.

I unlocked the door, disarming a series of both mundane and magical security measures with practiced ease. The familiar scent of old leather, parchment, and just a hint of ozone welcomed me as I stepped inside. This was my sanctuary, my base of operations, and now, our war room.

I moved through the shop, weaving between glass display cases filled with "harmless" magical artifacts – crystals that hummed faintly with stored energy, compasses that always pointed to your heart's desire, books whose text rearranged itself based on the reader's mood. The real treasures, the dangerous ones, were hidden away in the back room behind enough wards to give even a master thaumaturge a headache.

As I reached the counter, I heard a soft chime – not the bell above the door, but a magical alarm letting me know someone with power had crossed the threshold. Cerys.

"Cozy little setup you've got here, Dex," she said, materializing beside me in that unnerving way Fae had. Her eyes roamed the shop, a mix of professional assessment and genuine curiosity in her gaze. "Though I think my Emporium still has you beat in the 'most likely to accidentally curse a customer' category."

I snorted, leading her to the back room. "That's because half your inventory is actively malicious. I prefer my magical disasters to be of the 'oops, I didn't mean to summon that' variety."

We'd barely settled in when Gideon arrived, Zoe in tow. The young psychic's eyes were wide as she took in the shop, her hands twitching at her sides as if resisting the urge to touch everything.

Gideon's gaze swept the room, his expression softening slightly at the sight of me, but hardening again when it landed on Cerys. "I see you've already made yourself at home," he said, his tone just a shade too casual.

Cerys's smile was all teeth. "Well, you know me, Gideon. I've always had a knack for finding the most interesting places... and people."

The air between them practically crackled with tension. I glanced at Zoe, who looked as confused as I felt.

"Right," I said, clearing my throat. "Shall we get started?"

Gideon nodded stiffly, taking a seat as far from Cerys as the table would allow. "Yes, let's focus on the matter at hand. Dex, why don't you start by filling us in on your warehouse investigation?"

I launched into my explanation, but I couldn't help noticing the subtle jabs Gideon and Cerys kept trading.

When I mentioned the strange energy at the warehouse, Cerys chimed in, "Sounds like that incident in Prague, doesn't it, Gideon? Though I suppose your memory might be a bit... fuzzy on the details."

Gideon's jaw tightened. "My memory is just fine, thank you. And this is clearly different. Unless you think your expertise in causing magical disasters trumps decades of studied experience?"

"Now, now," Cerys purred, "let's not dwell on ancient history. We're here to help Dex, aren't we?"

I shared a look with Zoe, who seemed equally baffled by the undercurrent of hostility. Whatever history Gideon and Cerys shared, it was clearly complicated and unresolved.

Pushing aside my curiosity, I pressed on with the briefing. "As I was saying, the energy felt similar to what we experienced in the park..."

As our discussion deepened, I couldn't help but feel a mix of concern and curiosity. The tension between Gideon and Cerys added another layer of complexity to an already complicated situation. But right now, we had bigger problems to focus on.

I pulled out the coin and the tuft of hair, placing them in the center of the table. "Let's start with what we have. Maybe if we can understand these, we can start to piece together the bigger picture."

Gideon reached for the tuft of hair first, examining it closely. His eyes narrowed as he turned it over in his fingers, bringing it close to his nose for a quick sniff.

"Definitely werewolf," he said with certainty. "Adult male, if I'm not mistaken. Probably transformed within the last 48 hours when this was shed."

I raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You can tell all that just by looking at it?"

Gideon's lips quirked in a small smile. "Years of experience, Dex. You pick up a few tricks along the way."

Cerys leaned forward, her curiosity piqued despite her earlier tension with Gideon. "Any idea why a werewolf would be prowling around a warehouse district?"

Gideon shook his head. "Could be any number of reasons. Werewolves aren't uncommon in urban areas these days. They've adapted, like most supernatural beings."

I turned to Zoe. "Think you can get anything else from it? Any impressions about why this werewolf was there?"

Zoe nodded, looking a bit more confident after Gideon's straightforward analysis. She reached out and gently touched the hair, closing her eyes in concentration. For a moment, the room was silent save for the soft ticking of an antique clock on the wall.

After a few seconds, Zoe opened her eyes and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm not getting much. It's definitely a werewolf, just like Gideon said. Male, adult. I sense... purpose? Like he was there for a reason, not just wandering. But I can't tell what that reason was."

I nodded, trying not to show my disappointment. "That's okay, Zoe. Every bit of information helps."

"Well," Cerys chimed in, "at least we know we're dealing with werewolves. That narrows things down a bit. They could be just another faction getting wind of whatever's awakening."

Gideon nodded grudgingly. "Cerys has a point. Werewolf packs are often well-connected in the supernatural community. If they're sniffing around, it means word is spreading."

"Which means we need to move faster," I concluded. "Before every magical being and their grandmother descends on Tampa looking for the Conduit."

I reached for the coin next, feeling its odd weight in my palm. "Now, let's see what we can make of this little mystery."

As soon as my fingers closed around it, I felt a faint buzz of energy, like a mild electric current. Given my abilities, that was saying something.

"It's... active," I muttered, turning it over. The symbols on its surface seemed to shift and dance, never staying still long enough for me to focus on any one in particular.

Cerys leaned in, her eyes gleaming with that dangerous curiosity I knew all too well. "May I?" she asked, holding out her hand.

I hesitated for a moment, recalling how objects from my investigations had a tendency to react... unpredictably to Cerys's fae magic. But we needed answers.

"Be careful," I said, placing the coin in her outstretched palm.

The moment it touched her skin, the symbols on the coin flared with a bright, silvery light. Cerys's eyes widened, taking on an otherworldly glow.

"Fascinating," she breathed. "It's old. Older than... oh."

She fell silent, her brow furrowed in concentration. The rest of us exchanged glances, waiting.

After what felt like an eternity, Gideon cleared his throat. "Care to share with the class, Cerys?"

She blinked, coming back to herself. "It's not just old. It's... out of time. Like it doesn't belong to any one timeline or reality."

"What does that mean?" Zoe asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cerys shook her head, frustration clear on her face. "I'm not sure. But when I try to trace its history, I see... flashes. Different places, different times. Maybe even different realities. And in each one, this coin is being used to open something."

"Open what?" I pressed.

"Doors. Portals. Seals." Cerys met my gaze, her expression grave. "I think... I think it might be a key."

A heavy silence fell over the room as we all absorbed this information.

Gideon was the first to speak. "If it's a key, and it's connected to the Conduit..."

"Then whoever left it at the warehouse might be trying to unlock something very dangerous," I finished.

"Or seal it away," Zoe suggested quietly.

We all turned to look at her. She shrank a bit under our gazes but pressed on. "Well, keys can lock things too, right? Maybe whoever had this was trying to contain something."

I nodded slowly. "Good thinking, Zoe. We shouldn't jump to conclusions. Either way, though, this coin is clearly important."

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"And potentially very dangerous in the wrong hands," Gideon added.

Cerys was still examining the coin, her fingers tracing its edges. Suddenly, she hissed in pain, a thin line of blood welling up on her fingertip.

"Cerys!" I exclaimed, reaching for her hand.

"I'm fine," she said, waving off my concern. But her face had gone pale, her eyes wide with what looked unsettlingly like fear. "But this... this is beyond anything I've encountered before. We need to be very, very careful with it."

I was about to respond when a sharp knock at the shop's front door made us all jump. We froze, exchanging alarmed glances. The shop was closed, the 'OPEN' sign dark. Who could be knocking?

"I'll check it out," I said, standing. "You all stay here."

As I made my way to the front of the shop, my hand crackling with ready electricity, I couldn't shake the feeling that our problems were about to multiply. Again.

I approached the shop's front door cautiously, the faint crackle of electricity dancing between my fingers. Through the frosted glass, I could make out a silhouette—tall and lean, with curves that suggested a woman's figure. Definitely not a customer who'd missed the "CLOSED" sign.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door a crack. "Sorry, we're cl—"

The words died in my throat as I recognized the face staring back at me. Detective Maya Rodriguez, Tampa PD's unofficial liaison to the "weird stuff department," aka the Wardens.

"Graves," she said, her voice clipped. "We need to talk."

I glanced back towards the rear of the shop, where I knew the others were waiting, then back to Maya's stern face. This was not good.

"Detective Rodriguez," I said, plastering on my best 'nothing to see here' smile. "What a surprise. What brings Tampa's finest to my humble shop on this fine day?"

She wasn't buying it. "Cut the crap, Graves. There's been an incident downtown. Witnesses described something that fits your... area of expertise."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Maya leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "How about a man turning into a wolf in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded street?"

My stomach dropped. Werewolves weren't usually this careless. Whatever was going on with the Conduit, it was clearly having wider repercussions than we'd thought.

"Alright," I said, nodding. "Give me a minute to grab my things and we can—"

"We don't have time for that," Maya interrupted, pushing past me into the shop. "I need you to come with me now. We've got the area cordoned off, but people are asking questions I can't answer."

As she strode into the main area of the shop, I saw her eyes narrow, taking in the eclectic mix of artifacts and books. Then her gaze landed on the back room door, slightly ajar.

"Is someone else here?" she asked, her hand drifting towards her holster.

Before I could answer, Gideon emerged from the back room, his face a careful mask of nonchalance. "Ah, Detective Rodriguez. It's been a while."

Maya's eyes widened in recognition. "Mr. Frost? I thought you'd retired."

"Just visiting an old student," Gideon said smoothly. "Dex was kind enough to show me some of his recent acquisitions."

I could see the gears turning in Maya's head. She knew Gideon, respected him even, but she could tell something was off.

"Right," she said slowly. "Well, I hate to break up the reunion, but I need to borrow Graves. We've got a situation."

Gideon nodded, his expression grave. "Of course, of course. Duty calls, eh, Dex?"

I caught the subtle nod he gave me. Message received: go handle this, we'll continue here.

"Lead the way, Detective," I said, grabbing my jacket. As we headed out, I called back to Gideon, "Lock up when you leave, old man!"

As Maya and I walked to her car, my mind was racing. A werewolf transforming in public was bad enough, but with everything else going on... I had a feeling this was just the tip of a very large, very dangerous iceberg.

"So," Maya said as we pulled away from the curb, "want to tell me what's really going on back there? Because I get the feeling it wasn't just a friendly visit from your old mentor."

I kept my face neutral, turning to look out the window at the familiar streets of Tampa. "Like Gideon said, he was just visiting. Checking out some new acquisitions. You know how collectors are."

Maya was silent for a moment. When I glanced back, I caught a fleeting expression of frustration and disbelief on her face before she schooled it back to professional neutrality.

"Right," she said, her tone making it clear she didn't buy it for a second. "Well, if there's anything I need to know..."

"You'll be the first I call," I assured her, knowing full well I'd do no such thing unless absolutely necessary. Bringing the Sightless into supernatural dealings, even those as savvy as Maya, tended to end badly. Usually fatally.

As we drove towards the scene of the werewolf incident, I couldn't help but wonder how long we could keep this under wraps. The Conduit, the strange energies, werewolves transforming in broad daylight... our world was bleeding into theirs, and I had a sinking feeling that no amount of magical damage control was going to be enough this time.

But for now, I had a job to do. One crisis at a time, Graves, I told myself. One crisis at a time.

The scene that greeted us as we pulled up to the cordoned-off street was barely controlled chaos. Blue and red lights from police cruisers painted the gathering crowd in alternating hues, their faces a mix of confusion, fear, and morbid curiosity. Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze, creating a tenuous barrier between the mundane and the magical.

As Maya and I ducked under the tape, I noticed scorch marks on the pavement, deep gouges in a nearby brick wall, and what looked suspiciously like claw marks on an overturned car. This was no ordinary transformation.

"What the hell happened here?" I muttered, more to myself than to Maya.

"Hoping you could tell us," she replied, leading me towards a uniformed officer clutching a notepad. "Eyewitness accounts are... inconsistent, to say the least. But they all agree something impossible happened."

I nodded, my eyes scanning the scene for any magical residue. There was definitely something in the air, a faint charge that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It wasn't unlike the energy I'd felt at the warehouse, but different somehow. More... primal.

"Officer," Maya addressed the uniformed cop, "can you give us a rundown of the witness statements?"

The officer nodded, flipping through his notes. "Multiple witnesses report seeing a man arguing on his phone just before the incident. Then, in a matter of seconds, he... changed. Descriptions vary from 'monster' to 'beast' to 'something out of a horror movie.'"

I exchanged a glance with Maya before turning back to the officer. "Did anyone describe specific features? Snout length, fur color, size compared to a normal person?"

The officer looked confused, but Maya nodded for him to answer.

"Uh, let's see... One witness mentioned a long snout. Another said it was larger than a man, maybe seven feet tall. Fur color... dark, possibly black or very dark brown. No one mentioned any specific markings."

I nodded, processing the information. "How long did the transformation take? And did anyone see where it went afterward?"

The officer consulted his notes again. "Witnesses say it happened fast, maybe 10-15 seconds. As for where it went... it just disappeared into the alley over there." He pointed to a narrow passage between two buildings.

"Thanks, officer," Maya said, dismissing him. Once he was out of earshot, she turned to me. "Want to tell me why you're asking about snout length and fur color?"

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone casual. "Different types of shifters have different characteristics. Knowing the details helps narrow down what we're dealing with."

Maya's eyes narrowed, but she didn't press further. "We should be able to gain more from surveillance footage." she stated instead.

I shook my head. "Doubtful. Incidents like this tend to interfere with electronics. But we should check, just in case."

As we walked towards the alley, I knelt down to examine the pavement more closely. There, almost hidden among the scorch marks, was a small tuft of fur. Dark, coarse... eerily similar to the sample we'd found at the warehouse. I quickly pocketed it before standing up.

"Find anything?" Maya asked.

"Maybe," I said noncommittally. "Mind if I take a look around?"

She gestured expansively. "Be my guest. But Graves? Don't leave anything out of your report this time."

As I moved deeper into the crime scene, something caught my eye. A figure at the edge of the crowd, watching intently. Too intently. As I observed, they began to back away slowly.

I casually moved closer to Maya. "Don't look now, but we've got a potential runner. Three o'clock, black hoodie, starting to back away."

Maya's posture shifted slightly, ready for action. "On it. You circle around?"

I nodded, and we smoothly split up. As we closed in, the figure suddenly bolted. But we were ready. In a coordinated move, Maya cut off their escape route while I used a subtle burst of electricity to trip them up.

As we cuffed the suspect, I couldn't help but wonder: were they connected to our shifter, or just another piece in this increasingly complex puzzle?

As the suspect was led away in handcuffs, Detective Rodriguez turned to me with a mix of curiosity and frustration in her eyes.

"Alright, Graves, spill it. What aren't you telling me?"

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to throw her a bone. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the tuft of fur I'd found earlier.

"I found this at the scene," I said, holding it up. "And it's... connected to another case I'm working on. One from my side of the fence, if you catch my drift."

Maya's eyes widened slightly. "And you were just going to pocket that without telling me?"

I shook my head. "I'm telling you now. Look, we both know submitting this as evidence in your case would create more problems than it solves. But I promise to keep you in the loop as much as I can."

She studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright, Graves. I appreciate you being straight with me about this. I'll keep you posted if anything unusual comes up in our investigation or with the suspect we caught. Just... try not to make my job any harder than it already is, okay?"

I gave her a small smile. "I'll do my best, Detective. And thanks."

"Don't mention it," she said, then added with a wry grin, "Seriously, don't. Now get out of here before my captain starts asking why a bookshop owner is at my crime scene."

As I made my way back to The Relic Graves, my mind was racing. The fur, the energy signature, the public transformation... it all had to be connected to the Conduit somehow. But how?

The shop was quiet when I entered, the "CLOSED" sign still hanging in the window. I made my way to the back room, where I found Cerys, Gideon, and Zoe huddled around the table, deep in discussion.

They looked up as I entered, their faces a mix of relief and anticipation.

"Well?" Cerys prompted. "What happened?"

I sank into an empty chair, suddenly feeling the weight of the day. "We've got a problem. A big one."

Over the next few minutes, I filled them in on everything – the crime scene, the witness descriptions, the energy signature, and the fur sample that matched what we'd found at the warehouse.

"It has to be connected to the Conduit," Zoe said, voicing what we were all thinking.

Gideon nodded gravely. "The question is, how? And more importantly, why now?"

"And who's behind it," Cerys added. "Werewolves don't just transform in public for no reason. Someone or something must be pulling the strings."

I leaned forward, placing my hands on the table. "Alright, so what's our next move? We've got a coin that might be a key to other dimensions, a werewolf running amok in downtown Tampa, and who knows what else coming down the pipeline."

"We need more information," Gideon said firmly. "About the Conduit, about these energy signatures, about everything."

Cerys's eyes lit up with that dangerous spark of curiosity I knew all too well. "I might know someone who can help with that. An information broker in the Fae realm. It's risky, but..."

"At this point," I said, "I think we're past worrying about risk. Whatever's happening, it's moving fast. We need to move faster."

Zoe, who had been quiet for most of the discussion, suddenly perked up. "Wait, I just remembered something. When I touched that coin earlier, I saw a symbol. It was brief, but... I think I could draw it."

We all watched in silence as Zoe sketched on a scrap of paper. When she held it up, I felt a jolt of recognition. The symbol was eerily similar to one I'd seen in an old tome in my shop's restricted section.

"Well," I said, standing up and moving towards the locked cabinet where I kept my most dangerous books, "looks like we're pulling an all-nighter. Who wants coffee?"

As Cerys and Gideon playfully argued over who made the worst coffee, and Zoe eagerly flipped through the ancient tome I'd retrieved, I couldn't help but smile. We were in over our heads, chasing an artifact that could reshape reality itself, with werewolves and who-knows-what-else on our tail.

But in that moment, surrounded by unlikely allies and the comforting smell of old books, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

The night was young, the mystery was deepening, and somewhere out there, answers were waiting to be found. It was time to get to work.