By the time I come downstairs, the house is already moving. Not loudly. Not chaotically.
Purposefully. Delilah is at the kitchen table with a tablet open, typing notes fast enough that I assume she’s been up for hours. Brooke is leaning against the counter, sipping coffee like she hasn’t slept either but refuses to admit it. Conrad is speaking quietly into a phone near the window.
And Archer?—
Archer is watching all of it like he’s measuring distance between every possible threat and every possible response.When his eyes land on me, they soften just slightly. Not enough that anyone else would notice. But I do.
“Morning,” I say.
“Morning,” he replies.
Simple. Controlled. Careful. I pour myself coffee and take the seat at the table like this is normal. Because apparently, I’ve reached the point where “armed supernatural territorial conflict planning meeting in a forest house” qualifies as a normal breakfast setting. Delilah glances up first.
“We need structure,” she says.
I blink. “We already have structure.”
She gives me a look.
“No,” she replies. “We have reactive structure. We need proactive coordination.”
Brooke snorts softly. “Translation: we’re getting organized before everything burns down.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Conrad mutters.
Archer doesn’t sit. Of course he doesn’t. He never really seems to sit anymore unless it’s next to me.
“We expand communication lines,” Delilah continues. “Not just internal shifters. Human businesses too.”
That gets my attention.
“Human businesses?” I repeat.
“Yes,” she says. “They see things we don’t. Tourists, patterns, strangers who don’t belong.”
I slowly nod. Because that… actually makes sense.
“I’ve already been noticing that,” I say.
Three heads turn toward me. Even Archer’s gaze sharpens slightly.
“I mean,” I continue, “I’ve been tracking suspicious behavior in the bookstore. People asking the wrong kinds of questions. Watching exits instead of shelves.”
Brooke leans forward slightly. “You still have that notebook?”
I tap my bag.
“Always.”
A faint hint of approval crosses Conrad’s expression.
Delilah smiles slightly. “Good.”
Archer’s gaze lingers on me a second longer than the others. Not surprise. Not doubt.
Something closer to recognition. Like he’s still adjusting to the fact that I’m not justhereanymore. I amin this.
“Then we formalize it,” Conrad says. “A network. Small business points. Trusted locals. Anyone who can report anomalies.”