I didn't recognize the baristas on duty when I hobbled into the Bean & Brew around four in the morning. But then again, if it wasn't Mason's shift, I wasn't really paying attention. But one girl must've recognized me, even from under the wide brim of her uniform's ballcap pulled low over her face, because she slid an extra hot redeye across the counter at me.

Or maybe I just looked like a hag who needed it.

I was freezing. My coat didn't zip anymore. And I could just feel how knotty and frizzed out my hair was, and the sting of mascara smeared into my eye. My velvet dress was hiked up and twisted in all the wrong places around my curves, but that's what happens when you jog all the way home from Old City. In pumps. My toes hurt more than a mermaid trying to shove her fin into ballet slippers, but hey, I'd made it.

Just in time to catch the paper cup before it splashed onto the floor too.

"Thanks," I mumbled, unable to keep the exhaustion from my voice. "What, uh, do I owe?"

But that barista was already gone. Probably shuffled off into the basement storeroom or the pisser. Her cohort wasn't paying attention, earbuds blaring K-pop and engrossed in some manga.

Guess that means it's on the house, right? Not stealing if they just give it to you. I'll tip them good later. When I had the cash to spare. After I covered what I already owed Mason, naturally. Pinky promise. Right now, I just needed to crawl upstairs, take a boiling hot bath to wash the vampire spittle off me, and sleep till three in the afternoon.

I'd almost made it to the side door into the apartment foyer too when the café bell jingled, and a snake hissed.

"Isla," said Nazira, not bothering to wait for me to turn around. "Come here."

My breath lodged in my throat.

Merman's gils.

I was in trouble.

She was in her pajamas. Or at least loungewear. The Society of Other, Worldly, and Otherworldly Creatures didn't keep the same office hours as the human world, but even for us, four in the morning was well past happy hour and bordering on bedtime. Case and point, Nazira wasn't wearing any makeup. And her normally flawless color palette was struggling, her pink and bronze hijab not totally vibing with her powder blue silken pants, like she'd thrown the former on in hurry to get out the door.

I probably interrupted her children's bedtime story. Crap.

"Hey Nazira. Two visits in twenty-four hours? Woah, what do I owe the pleasure, ha ha?"

The chair she pulled out and smacked the seat of scraped loudly over the tiled floor.

She waited till my ass was firmly planted in it, the ricketiest chair in the whole damn café, before cradling her belly and daintily taking a seat across from me. I couldn't even look her in the eye. Out of shame, not fear of being turned to stone. Er, well, those may be synonymous at this point. I really screwed up this time. Why'd I have to do that séance? The bad juju got way out of hand and now Nazira was making a house call in her jammies to arrest me.

I'd never get to pay Mason back for that tip I borrowed after all.

Who'd take care of Grumpkin? My sisters? He'd hate that.

Can't believe I was going back to jail without even making it to third base with Greg, that prick. More than my thumb still throbbed from the memory of his fang gently tearing me open, and that dark, hungry look in his eye as he massaged a few drops of blood from me with his tongue, like he was 'guess what else I can do with this?' kind of teasing me.

Nazira inhaled deep, nostrils flaring.

"What the fuck, Isla?" she said calmly.

"Uh, you're going to have to be more specific?"

Eyes flashed gold behind those charmed specs, her snakes vibrating and hissing wildly. Somebody under the hijab was rattling unhappily for sure. But Nazira's face showed no more displeasure than it did whenever I forgot to bring her herbal tea during my check ins.

"Don't play with vampires," she said. "I know you've ignored just about every piece of advice I've ever given you, but please, just this once, stay away from the vampires and their drama. Go get your rocks off with another minotaur or a gargoyle if you're that horny, just leave the undead alone, for once."

Anger prickled along my spine like a red-hot poker, causing me to straighten in my chair. "They came after me. That rich bitch vamp's valet guy practically abducted me. One came into my home—"

I bit my lip. Balls. How did I explain a vampire entering my apartment without permission?

Nazira rolled her eyes. "Oh, what, you mean your not quite 'boyfriend?' With your cutesy inside joke about that silly 'Welcome We're Open for Business' plaque hung outside your unlicensed psychic parlor? Honestly, Isla, do you think I don't know about your side hustle? There's a neon sign in your window!"

She didn't have a pen to click, so Nazira was frantically tapping her thumb against her index finger.

I was going to puke. Just spill my entrails right there on the table. How'd I forget about that stupid sign when she came over? It might've well as read Arrest This Dummy in bright purple letters above my bed. Shit.

"I—"

"You've any idea how difficult it was to hide that in my welfare check in photos?" she continued. "Sweeping the fact that you haven't worked at the bar in over a year is nothing, but this? How're you even making enough money to stay afloat? Please, really, tell me, I'd love to not have to keep making things up in my reports."

"I—how'd you know I quit?" I asked, lamely.

Nazira only narrowed her eyes at me. One of her snakes released a slow, drawn-out hiss as if to say you're a fucking idiot, Isla, that's how.

"If you've known this whole time, then..." then what about my just a blip from last week? Was it truly just a blip? Had my anklet already given me away? Was Lily missing because the Magistrate had already picked up her walking not-corpse, and the rest of this melodrama was nothing more than a sting to catch me in the act again? "Why—"

"Do you think I'm stupid? No, shut up, because you act like you think I'm stupid sometimes, Isla. And that hurts. Truly." Nazira reached across the table and cupped my hands. Hers were warm and soft and smelled of sweet almonds. She gave me little pulsing squeezes as she spoke. "I'm four months pregnant. I've only got a few more months to go before I go on maternity, and when I get back, you aren't supposed to be my charge anymore. You're supposed to have served your sentence. And when your time is served, so is mine."

She punctuated that last line with a firm grab on my hand that might as well've been an ice pick stabbing me in the lungs. Her eyes glowed brightly once more. The snakes became restless.

"Ow, Nazira, that hurts."

I tried to pull out of her grasp. She held tight.

"Honey, the truth hurts sometimes, I know." Nazira didn't let me pull back my hand. "I'm getting a promotion. I should be getting a promotion. I was promised when I took on your pain in the rear, after you already tore through three other officers before me, that if I saw your case through to the end, I'd be running the department. I'd get a raise. I'm a public servant about to have my third child. I need that raise."

Money. Even for Nazira. Sweet and cheery and motherly, Nazira. Closest thing I'd had to a living friend outside my own sisters in my entire adult life. The woman who'd apparently been looking out for my stupid ass more than I'd ever realized. Even for her, it came down to money.

"I'm... sorry?"

"Okay, well, I don't really believe you, but thanks."

She noticed my hands were trembling and let me go, finally. Giving me a little tap to say stay put she got up and collected napkins from the milk kiosk, gently dabbing makeup from one of my cheeks before stuffing the rest in my palm.

"Are you arresting me?"

Settling herself back in her chair, clearly struggling to get comfortable, Nazira laughed.

"Not if I can help it, sweetie. Which means you need to help me help you."

I sucked in a shaky breath, nodding. I didn't want to get arrested. I really, really didn't want to go to prison. Prison wasn't juvie. I don't even remember to how to carve contraband wands out of children's blocks or whatever anymore.

"You don't, under any circumstances, play with vampires. They can sniff you out. If one of them bit you," Nazira shook her head, shuddering at a thought I obviously hadn't considered, and at this point was too afraid to ask her what the heck she was referring to.

I was a teenager when I learned necromancy. I have no clue what would happen if a vampire consumed my blood. I mean, I had considered what would happen if a certain vampire bit me and everything in my consideration was nothing some towels and vitamin C couldn't fix. Of course... that was before he ditched me in a psychotic blood sucking stalker's home as said stalker munched on the help. Seriously, who just leaves a girl to face that on her own?

"Say it, Isla. What aren't you going to do?"

I swallowed.

Not that I didn't appreciate all the help Nazira had obviously given me over the years. All this new information aside, she'd always been a shoulder to cry on, somebody reliable in my life, even if she was court appointed. But as I sat there steaming hotter than my redeye on how Greg just left me, I believed myself when I told her: "I will not play with vampires."

Nazira's usual cheery smile returned. Bright and happy. She tenderly rubbed my shoulder.

"That's my girl! And you can just drop those library books back in the book deposit at any time. No questions asked."

"Wait, I didn't—"

"Nope, of course you didn't," the gorgon sang as she exited the café.

My extra hot coffee was cold by the time I finally stopped shaking enough to sip it. Balls.