When Ana came home from work and exited her truck, she knew something was off about her front porch. She couldn’t see anything at first, it was more like a gut feeling. And a mageia feeling.

She walked to the porch, purse clutched close to her hip as she walked to the steps. When she got only a few feet away, she finally knew what it was. Spellwork, carved into the wood of the railings and steps. It was Marchosias’ work; she recognized the ancient Nordic runes he always favored. She approached the steps and ran her finger along the runes, his magic tingling like electricity. What are these for? To keep me inside, or to keep others out?

It seems Marchosias really does suspect that she’s getting into trouble. Does he believe that she’s bringing in unwanted guests? Maybe he didn’t like her friend, Logan after all. She was the one who told Ana that her mother appeared sick. Marchosias never liked too many questions.

Footsteps crunched the grass behind her and she whirled around. Beau stood there, stopping his steps when Ana had turned around. He wore a black jacket and his leather gloves, despite the dismal summer heat. Ana couldn’t understand why he insisted on wearing the garb, he must have been sweating under it all. He must have considered if hiding his burn scars was worth the risk of passing out from heat exhaustion.

Ana looked around and behind him for Judas, but he was nowhere in sight.

“He’s not with me. He was taking a nap when I left.” Beau said, as if reading her thoughts.

Ana scoffed. “When he wakes up, he’ll follow you like a lost puppy. That’s what he always does.”

“I told him I was going to get food before he fell asleep.”

“You think he would believe that? He may be a fool but he’s not stupid.” Ana turned around to the runes again, considering if she could risk stepping across them. She didn’t know if they would alert Marchosias or not.

“Have you…looked through your grimoire?” Beau asked, taking a few steps closer to her.

Ana slowly shook her head. “No…I’ve been too busy with work and my father. He visited me last night.”

“I know. Did he say anything…useful?”

Ana bit her lip, remembering what Marchosias had said during the dinner. “He’s looking for you and Judas…and your mother. He’s on your trail.”

Beau didn’t reply, and Ana turned around to gauge his reaction. His eyes were staring at the ground, his brows scrunched in worry. “He doesn’t know where she is, either?’

Ana raised an eyebrow. “You were expecting him to?”

“I’m not sure,” He hesitantly shrugged his shoulders. “I think I was just hoping that he would tell you something, anything other than the fact that she might be held by the Creed of Solomon.”

She adjusted the purse hanging on her shoulder and crosses her arms. “Those scientist freaks are far from my concern right now.” She turned back around to the porch. “Right now, I have to figure out why my father insists I need all these ugly runes carved into my damn porch.”

“You should be worried. At any moment they could come to this town and—” She heard his footsteps approach her. He stopped by her side and looked down at the carvings. “Interesting…”

“Don’t touch them,” Ana warned. “I don’t know why they’re there.”

He leaned down and examined them, his dark eyes roving over the intricate runes. “They look similar to the ones on the border. I’m not familiar with the runes he uses, but they act as a warning system. Any cambion passes these steps, and he gets an alert. They seem to exclude you, however. These type of runes are far older than any I’ve ever studied, but I recognize some letters.”

“You seem to know a lot about this,” Ana responded, crossing her arms. She didn’t want to seem as impressed as she was, but couldn’t help that it was evident in her voice.

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Beau turned to her, but could only hold her gaze for a few seconds before looking away.

“Runic—the runic alphabet is used by a lot of northern European cambion families for mageia spells. My father—he is from the Seminole Tribe of Florida, but he made both me and Judas learn different versions of the runic alphabet and other languages used for mageia, just in case we ran into different cambions.”

“A methodical man,” Ana sighed. “If only my father was the same. He treats training sessions like a real battle.”

She dumped her purse next to the steps and made her way around the house. Beau followed at a distance.

“I don’t mean to rush you or anything but, Judas and I have to leave soon. He’s becoming impatient and is worried your father will find us.” Beau said as Ana made her way to her garden.

“So leave.” Ana murmured, brushing her hand over the summersweet bushes lining her back porch. They hadn’t bloomed yet, so they looked boring and unassuming compared to the rest of her flowering plants and trees. As she passed the bushes, she noted the runes carved into her back porch. “Or if Judas wants to get himself killed, he can do that too. Like I care. He’s never had any patience to begin with.”

“I’m aware.” Beau watched as she examined a pot of grape tomatoes. “He won’t leave without me.”

Ana shrugged nonchalantly. “Go, then. You have a basic idea of where your mom might be. My father is looking for you, so I think it’s better to skip town while you still can.”

Beau stared at her, an uncertain look on his face. “That would mean our deal is complete, then?”

Right. The deal. She had almost forgotten. Get his mom’s location, get her memories of the incident. It seemed so impossible at first, but now here they are.

“Okay.” Ana turned away from the tomato vine and fully faced him. “Tell me, then. What happened during the incident.”

He shifted his feet, his fists clenching at his sides. Was he nervous, or afraid? “It’s…not something I can just tell you. It’s—It’s not…”

“It’s not what?” She pressed. “Either my father lied about it or he didn’t. Just tell me the truth.”

He looked anxious now, crossing his arms and looking away from her. His face betrayed him by completely showing his emotions. He was scared to tell her, it seems. He couldn’t fall through with his end of the deal.

A distant rumbling started down the road, just in front of her house. It steadily became louder until Ana realized it was coming into her driveway, and Beau was immediately forgotten. A loud and pompous truck motor, one that spoke of nothing but wealth and a compensation for something much smaller. Ana knew the driver well.

“Ah, shit.” She walked back to the front of the house. Beau followed behind her, still looking nervous, but now it was about something else.

“Should I make myself scarce?” He asked. Ana shook her head.

“No, we still need to talk. Just let me deal with this first.” She murmured.

Deacon had parked behind her truck and was just getting out when Ana rounded the corner. Beau stopped following and stood beside the porch as Ana walked up to Deacon. They were enough distance away the Beau wouldn’t be able to hear them clearly, which is what Ana wanted.

“You didn’t call.” Ana said, letting a bit of anger out in her voice.

Deacon shrugged with a smile. “Didn’t think I needed to. You left work before I could ask you a question.”

Ana sighed. “You could’ve called or texted me. I’m busy right now.”

Deacon glanced at Beau behind them. “With him?”

She scoffed. “Don’t start. He’s somebody I knew from high school.”

“You sure? He doesn’t look like he’s from this town.”

She narrowed his gaze at him. “From the other high school. I haven’t lived here all my life, you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” He replied, taking a strand of her hair that had escaped from her bun and twirling it around his finger. “You’re always a little too trusting when it comes to men from out of town.”

She swiped his hand away and tucked her hair behind her ear. “What do you want that can’t be said over a phone call?”

Deacon looked at her, his gray eyes examining her face. He glanced back at Beau again, but this time it was longer. “Why is he here?”

She scowled and took a step back. “If you’re not going to tell me what you wanted to say, then you might as well leave.”

“It was only a question!” Deacon said, in a more joyful tone. “Fine, I’ll say what I wanted to say. Do you want to go to Lexingside on Friday? To a nightclub, maybe?”

“No. I already told my friends I would be going with them. Find another date.”

She turned and started walking away from him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She faced him with a venomous glare, hand ready to pry his fingers off of her arm.

“You know, whenever I ask about you in this shitty town, all people can talk about is how sorry they feel for you, how it’s a shame you are all alone in that big house of yours.” He leaned in, his rancid breath smelling of cigarettes and energy drinks. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and it grew in unevenly. “Just remember when you’re with that freak over there, that nobody else in this bumfuck town but me can stop feeling sorry for you enough to fuck you.”

Ana shoved him away and his back hit the truck, causing a loud bang to permeate the air. He only smiled at her, and Ana wanted nothing more than to rip it off of his face.

“Get the hell off of my property,” She snapped. “And don’t think of ever coming back.”

She turned around and walked away from him, back to Beau. He was crouched down and petting Jazzy. Jazzy, the moody cat who never liked anybody expect for her dad. She seemed to be absorbing the attention, rubbing up against Beau’s pants and leaning into his hand when he scratched behind her ear. She would’ve thought more about it, if Deacon hadn’t pissed her off. She stormed up the steps and unlocked the front door with the keys from her pocket. “Jazzy, food!”

Her feline ears perked up, and hopped up the steps and into the house, preferring the temptation of food than the attention of a new person. Beau stood from his spot, but didn’t walk up the steps. “What family is he from?”

“What?” Ana turned to him. The sound of Deacon’s truck starting made her jump. She clenched her fists and forced herself to breath slowly. She rubbed her face with her hands and sighed. “God, I don’t know. Carbonneau? Something like that.”

Beau only hummed in response.

“What?” Ana leaned against the railing. “Are you going to throw a fit, too?”

“What?” Beau looked up at her. “No, I…I didn’t mean—”

“Forget it. I’m just tired and stressed.” She covered her face with her hands. Her phone vibrated once in her pocket and she bit her lip. I hope it’s my mom and not Deacon. She had texted her mom after Marchosias had left last night, telling her to get well soon and that she hoped she was okay. Her mother had responded within an hour reassuring her that she was fine, but that didn’t do much to console Ana.

“Should I leave?” He murmured. Ana moved her hands away from her face and looked at him. He looked uncomfortable, uncertain of what he should do. His posture was awkward, his shoulders switching from slouched to straight and his fingers tapping the sides of his jeans.

“No…” Ana replied. “I still have more questions.”

“Questions?”