“What buyout offers?” Theo’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl.
“Every business that’s experienced significant surge-related problems has received an offer to purchase within two weeks of the incident. Different shell companies each time, but they trace back to the same parent organization.” Leo pulled up another document—corporate filings, registration numbers, the paper trail he’d spent the past two nights assembling. “Sable Acquisitions. Registered in Nevada. Specializes in ‘distressed paranormal assets.’”
“Distressed paranormal assets.” Hux repeated the phrase as if it left a bad taste. “That’s a polite way of saying they prey on struggling businesses.”
“Son of a bitch.” Beck set his beer down hard enough to slosh foam across the table. “Someone’s sabotaging businesses and then swooping in to buy them cheap.”
“That’s my working theory.”
Wyatt uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, all trace of lazy observation gone. “You’re saying these aren’t natural surge effects. They’re manufactured.”
“Some of them are natural. The surge is real, and it is causing instability.” Leo met the sheriff’s unblinking stare. “But someone is amplifying the effects at specific locations. Creating problems where there shouldn’t be problems. Using the surge as cover.”
“Moonrise Mixology.” Theo’s voice was flat. “Junie’s shop. She’s been hit harder than anyone.”
He kept his expression neutral through sheer willpower.
“She’s sitting on one of the most valuable ley line intersections in town. If someone wanted to control Haven Shores’s magical infrastructure, her shop would be a priority target.” He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “She received a buyout offer three weeks ago. Rejected it without reading the terms.”
“That sounds like Junie.” Emotion flickered across Beck’s face. Pride, mixed with concern. “She’d rather burn the place down than let someone else have it.”
“Which makes her a target for escalation.” Leo’s jaw tightened. “Whoever’s behind this won’t stop at buyout offers. If she keeps refusing, they’ll find other ways to apply pressure.”
The silence that followed was heavy with implications.
Theo rackedthe balls for a new game and gestured for Leo to take the first shot. A peace offering, or a test. Possibly both.
Leo selected a cue from the rack on the wall and chalked the tip with practiced movements. He hadn’t played pool in years—there was never time, never an occasion that called for it—but muscle memory served him well. His father had taught him the game, back when Marius Castellan still had time for his son between bad deals and worse decisions.
The break scattered balls across the felt with satisfying precision. Two stripes dropped into pockets.
“Not bad.” Theo circled the table, assessing the spread. “For a lion.”
“Lions have excellent hand-eye coordination.”
“Is that what they teach you in San Francisco?”
“Among other things.” Leo sank the eleven ball in the corner pocket. “Tell me about the local power structure. The files the Coalition provided were… thin.”
Hux laughed—a smooth, practiced sound. “The files were curated. You’re getting the official version. Sanitized for external consumption.”
“I gathered.” Leo straightened from his shot, studying the mayor. “You’re Elder Isandro’s son. Your father wasn’t pleased to see me at the dinner.”
“My father isn’t pleased about most things.” Hux’s smile didn’t waver, but a shadow flickered behind his golden eyes. “He represents the old guard. Species purity. Hierarchical structure. Deep suspicion of anyone who isn’t exactly what he expects them to be.”
“And you?”
“I’m a politician. I believe in whatever keeps Haven Shores functional and prosperous.” Hux spread his hands. “Right now, that means working with wolves, witches, and visiting lion alphas who show up with inconvenient information about sabotage.”
“Pragmatic.”
“Survival requires flexibility.” Hux’s focus sharpened. “You rebuilt the Castellan Pride from nothing. You understand that better than most.”
Leo inclined his head, acknowledging the point. He was being assessed, cataloged, measured against whatever standards these men held. It wasn’t subtle, but it was fair. He’d do the same in their position.
Theo took his shot, sinking two balls in quick succession. “What’s Sable Acquisitions’s endgame? If they buy up businesses on ley line intersections, what does that give them?”
“Power.” Leo leaned against his cue. “The ley lines don’t simply fuel individual businesses. They feed into the town’s ward system. Accumulate enough intersections, and you could theoretically destabilize the wards themselves.”
