Beast Business

A Novella of Hidden Legacy

Available January 30, 2026

Augustine Montgomery is an Illusion Prime who owns a premier PI corporation and alters his appearance with magic. The people who have seen Augustine’s real face can be counted on the fingers of one hand. The people who witnessed the full extent of his power are dead. The illusion isn’t just the brand of his magic. It’s become his lifestyle.

Show as little as possible. Make them think that illusion is all you have. Your life depends on it.

Augustine lives by this creed. He’s cold, rational, and calculating. He doesn’t get emotionally involved. Then one day Diana Harrison walks into his office and asks for his help. Diana is a Prime, an animal mage who bonds with animals through her magic and prefers their company to humans. Something precious has been stolen from House Harrison. Something Diana must recover at all costs.

The two Houses are allied through a friendship pact. Assisting Diana is simply good business. And yet, there is something about her that disturbs the careful balance of Augustine’s inner world.

Neither of them is who they appear to be. Both would die to keep their secrets. But the enemy they face is more powerful than either had imagined, and saving the life that hangs in the balance will demand the ultimate price neither Augustine nor Diana ever anticipated to pay – complete honesty.

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Excerpt

In 1863, in a world much like our own, European scientists discovered the Osiris serum, a concoction which brought out one’s magic talents. These talents were many and varied. Some people gained the ability to command animals, some learned to sense water from miles away, and others suddenly realized they could kill their enemies by throwing lightning from their fingertips.

The serum spread through the world. It was given to soldiers in hopes of making the military forces more deadly. It was obtained by members of the fading aristocracy, desperate to hold on to power. It was bought by the rich, who desired to get richer.

Eventually the world realized the consequences of awakening godlike powers in ordinary people. The serum was locked away, but it was too late. The magic talents passed on from parents to their children and changed the course of human history forever. The future of entire nations shifted in the span of a few short decades. Those who previously married for status, money, and power now married for magic, because strong magic would give them everything.

Now, a century and a half later, families with strong hereditary magic have evolved into dynasties. These families—Houses, as they call themselves—own corporations, have their own territories within the cities, and influence politics. They employ private armies, they feud with each other, and their disputes are deadly. It is a world where the more magic you have, the more powerful, the wealthier, and the more prominent you are. Some magic talents are destructive. Some are subtle. But no magic user should be taken lightly.

This story is about three Houses bound together by a friendship pact:

House Montgomery, led by Augustine Montgomery, the head of Montgomery International Investigations, the largest and most powerful PI firm in the Southwest;

House Baylor, led by Catalina Baylor, who runs Baylor Investigations, a much smaller boutique PI firm;

And House Harrison, led by Diana Harrison, who views the Baylors as family and House Montgomery as steadfast allies.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“As you know, Maria, the current state of the economy requires our company to develop agility in an effort to meet the rapidly changing realities of the marketplace.”

The HR manager smiled, her hand resting on a black folder with FINERGY etched in gold on it. She was in her forties. Her makeup had been applied with technical precision. Her acrylic nails, translucent pink and of a professionally acceptable length, bore small white Easter eggs as a nod to the holiday season. A rose quartz necklace dripped from her neck, each bead polished, matching the nails and the nearly transparent pink frames of her eyeglasses.

She seemed plastic, having been poured into a corporate mold, allowed to harden, extracted, polished, and then placed in the conference room, with her rigid smile and by-the-book hair. A kind of generic mass-produced middle manager.

The two men sitting on either side of her had come from the same factory and wore identical expressions of dutiful concern for the office drone they were about to cut loose. A united front, in case there were issues.

“In light of these developments, we’ve had to make some difficult decisions.”

 The corporate we. Fun thing about polished plastic—it tended to be slick. Nothing stuck to it, responsibility included.

“We’ve decided to go in a different direction, Maria.”

First name basis, designed to provide the illusion of a caring professional relationship. We are all family here. Surely you understand. Nothing personal, Maria.

“You’ve been an asset to our team; however, we must reduce our overhead obligations.”

You are not a person, Maria. This was badly handled. Painfully drawn out, full of empty platitudes. Just abysmal.

“We’ve chosen to let you go.”

Finally.

“Try not to see this as a setback, but rather a new opportunity to learn lessons and apply them in your future endeavors.”

No, not just badly handled. Gloriously badly handled, as if they had made it a point to check every box of what not to do when firing an employee. Now tell me you will walk me to the door…

“Cory will walk you to the door.”

And we have a home run.

“Good luck, Maria. We are rooting for you.”

The temptation to golf clap was almost too much, but it would’ve been irresponsible under the circumstances. Arrangements like these came with certain expectations, and they had to be honored.

The box they offered was too large for the meager possessions living on the desk. Sweeping them into the box under Cory’s watchful gaze took mere seconds. An elevator ride followed, the mirror inside offering a reflection of Cory, stone-faced in a Brooks Brothers suit, looming over a woman in her thirties, olive-skinned, dark hair cut into a bob, a blouse from Torrid a size too large, the consequence of stress-induced weight loss. Quite the contrast.

The trek across a wide lobby was next, complete with pitying glances from former co-workers, at once sympathetic and wary, as if instead of a defeated woman in business attire they had spied a leper in filthy rags and worried the disease might spread.

The glass doors of Callas Tower swung open, offering freedom and overcast daylight. Cory walked out and planted himself in front of the door, ready to put his life on the line to protect the firm’s secrets in case the ex-employee decided to assault the building.

Too little, too late.

It was time for a dejected walk down the street and out of sight.

The city was going about its business, oblivious to the small tragedies of firings in the name of corporate agility. Thick grey clouds clogged the sky, promising prompt rain, common to Houston in April.

A gunmetal-grey BMW SUV slid closer to the curb, its electric motor nearly silent, and the rear passenger window slid down, revealing a woman’s face. She was beautiful in a quiet way. Light brown eyes, flecked with gold and framed by naturally long eyelashes. A lovely face. Chestnut hair, braided in a kind of updo that would have been too soft and romantic for the HR trio in the conference room.

Diana Harrison, Prime and the head of House Harrison. She’d cut her hair and changed her hair color. It suited her better. Her usual icy blonde always felt soulless somehow. Too cold.

Diana tilted her head. “May I offer you a ride?”

“Do we know each other?”

She smiled without parting her lips. “Not closely, but it’s about to rain and your office is at least twenty minutes away.”

Oh. She knew. How?

There was no point in playing coy. “In that case, thank you. I’ll join you.”

A driver emerged, took the box, and opened the back door on the other side. Getting in took only a moment. A large red Doberman sat in the front passenger seat, strapped in by some strange seatbelt contraption, her gaze alert and watchful.

The dog could’ve picked up the scent and alerted, but not through a closed window. How had Diana known?

The car slid back into traffic.

Letting go was like a light, imaginary stretch. A brief effort, followed by a slight lessening of the load.

Gone was the olive skin, the short dark bob, the blouse, and the utilitarian black slacks. He was tall again, his regular persona firmly in place, familiar like an old glove. His true self still remained hidden, yet the new illusion was a tweak rather than an entirely new disguise. Like taking off a sweater but keeping the T-shirt on.

He stretched for real this time, working a kink out of his shoulders. The hunched posture had taken a bit of a toll.

He hadn’t needed to slouch, strictly speaking, but he always found that his illusions flowed better when he allowed himself to fully submerge into his assumed identity. After that barrage, most people in Maria’s place would have either stormed out defiantly or braced themselves, as if expecting to be punched. Storming out wouldn’t have achieved his goals.

Diana watched him with genuine fascination. He’d seen that reaction so many times that he should’ve been used to it by now, but coming from her it felt refreshing.

“A moment?”

Diana nodded.

He pulled his cell phone out of his Zegna suit and selected his second-in-command from the contact list.

Zachary answered instantly. “Here.”

“Dump FINERGY.”

“Understood.”

He ended the call, tossed one long leg over the other, and smiled.

“I believe I will dump FINERGY as well,” Diana said.

“Professionally, no comment. Personally, off the record, I highly recommend it. They are engaged in cybersecurity fraud. The latest crop of drones they brought to the market and sold to multiple law enforcement agencies has severe software issues. Allegedly.”

“How severe?”

“A child with a LeapFrog tablet could hack one. They just fired the specialist who brought the problem to their attention two months ago.”

“You assumed her identity?”

He nodded. The scale of the fraud was massive enough that the real Maria’s safety was a concern. He’d spent the last week dutifully going to the office in her place. Normally, he would’ve sent one of his subordinates, but his House’s investment in FINERGY was considerable, and he had wanted to assess the state of things for himself.

Diana tapped her phone.

Tomorrow one of the biggest law firms in Houston would file the qui tam lawsuit against FINERGY, alleging violations of the False Claims Act, and Maria would become one of the most famous whistleblowers on record. If the government chose to join the suit, she would be entitled to about twenty percent of recovered damages. Considering the extent of FINERGY’s transgressions, she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a new job for some time.

Diana finished and put her phone down. “Now I’m in your debt, Prime Montgomery.”

“Not at all. We never spoke of this.” He slid his glasses a little higher on his nose. “Please, call me Augustine. Now then, what can Montogomery International Investigations do for House Harrison?”

Diana hesitated. It was very brief, but he’d been trained to observe people carefully, noting minute changes in expression.

“I want to hire you.”

“Me specifically or MII in general?”

“Both.”

Intriguing. “In what capacity?”

Another slight hesitation. There was something deceptively delicate about Diana. She was a small woman, short and petite. The contours of her face were soft, her features classically attractive: large, beautiful eyes, a small, slightly upturned nose, a full mouth with a bare hint of pink lipstick. She looked as if she were teetering on the edge, torn between wanting to keep her secret and asking for help. She could’ve played a princess in a medieval drama, the kind who had suffered an injustice and needed a strong ally. The kind who would inspire the audience to root for her.

It was a front. Augustine was absolutely sure of it. If he became an enemy, Diana Harrison would attempt to kill him without a moment’s hesitation. She was trying to entice him to help her and make her request a priority, and she was very subtle about it.

Common wisdom held that animal mages didn’t understand human emotions. They formed magic bonds with animals, and that process fundamentally altered their thinking, stunting their emotional development and making their interactions with other people difficult. Interacting with Cornelius, Diana’s brother, had convinced Augustine that there were exceptions to that rule. Apparently, Diana was cut from the same cloth.

He knew a great deal about her, and at the same time very little. They’d met on three occasions prior to today, and his longest interaction with Diana had happened when they signed the pact of friendship between their two Houses. The alliance was initiated by Cornelius, who had become convinced that having powerful connections was the best way to keep his daughter safe. As the head of her House, Diana was the only one with the authority to sign off on it, so they had met to negotiate.

Entering a pact of friendship was a no-brainer. While most Houses viewed animal mages as having limited power with few practical applications, to an illusion House there was no greater threat. He’d been delighted to neutralize it. His people had done a deep dive into House Harrison and found nothing of concern. On all three occasions he’d interacted with Diana, her demeanor was neutral, pleasant, and opaque. She had negotiated in good faith. This manipulation was delightfully new.

“Whether or not we come to an agreement, anything and everything you tell me is confidential,” he said.

“Something has been stolen from us,” she said.

“And you need me to find the culprit and recover it?”

Diana nodded.

“Why MII? Pardon me for stating the obvious, but you have access to House Baylor through your brother.”

Cornelius worked with the Baylors as a private investigator. The two families connected after the Baylors helped him discover who murdered his wife.

 “The Baylors specialize in outside-the-box investigations,” Augustine continued. “Considering how close your families are, they would give your problem first priority.”

“The Baylors can’t be involved in this matter,” she said.

Curiouser and curiouser.

His own relationship with House Baylor was complicated. At one point, before the Baylors became a House and had just been a small PI agency, he owned the mortgage on their business. Prior to his death, his father had made a habit of offering financing to small PI firms who needed an influx of cash, a practice Augustine had since ended. The Baylors had been one of those mortgaged subcontractors, and he paid them no attention until a difficult client forced him to reach for a creative solution. In retrospect, it had been a negligent decision at best and morally bankrupt one at worst, and it temporarily put his House and the Baylor family into adversarial positions.

 Later, House Montgomery and House Baylor came to regard each other as allies, especially once Connor Rogan, the closest person he had to a friend, married Nevada Baylor. The Baylors and he signed an alliance pact, an agreement that obligated them to respond if either House was threatened. So far, they had kept their word, and as long as he kept his, their loyalty and support were assured.

He always thought that the Harrisons and Baylors had an even deeper connection. The Baylors thought of Cornelius and his daughter, Matilda, as their family, but now Diana was implying that they couldn’t be trusted.

Either way, he had to draw the line now. As much as he valued the Harrisons, his House’s relationship with the Rogans and the Baylors mattered more. It wasn’t an alliance he was willing to endanger.

“Are the Baylors suspects?”

“No. They had nothing to do with this.”

“And they don’t know anything about it?”

Diana shook her head.

He saw it now. She baited the hook, offering him just enough information to ignite his curiosity, and waited for him to bite. Diana Harrison, a patient and careful fisherwoman.

In strict terms, their friendship pact was a non-aggression alliance, meaning that both Houses agreed to refrain from acting against each other. Mutual favors were not included but were customary in such arrangements. The disparity in their wealth, connections, and resources was significant, and yet House Harrison had asked for his help only once, when they needed him to pick up Matilda and secure her safety until Diana came to retrieve her.

Very well. Why not? He could play a knight in shining armor, if the compensation was significant enough and Diana offered payment in the right kind of currency. Most investigative work was profitable and boring. This promised to be interesting. He liked knowing secrets, and any secret hidden from the Baylors was worth knowing.

“Shall we discuss the details in my office?” he asked.

She offered him a beautiful smile.

#

Augustine’s office lay on the seventeenth floor. He’d chosen that location precisely because it satisfied his requirements for being high up but lacked the ostentatious statement of a top-floor office. The eight floors above him held private training spaces and Research & Development, followed by an infirmary on the twenty-second floor and a luxurious penthouse on the twenty-third. The top two floors were fortified against attacks from the roof. The penthouse business suite belonged to his late father. From the moment Augustine officially took the reins of MII, he resolved to never enter it again, and he hadn’t set foot there in years.

The elevator doors whispered open, and he invited Diana forward with a sweep of his hand. They walked across the spotless dark blue floor through his kingdom of tall white walls and cobalt-tinted light streaming through the sheath of blue windows that wrapped around the building.

He watched Diana’s expression covertly. Her face was relaxed and pleasant, her eyes calm. Prime Harrison moved with smooth grace, almost gliding across the floor, and the Doberman at her side matched her stride. The dog’s natural ears were down, her mouth half-open in a canine smile. He had seen enough Dobermans in his line of work. They were cautious dogs, alert and restrained in a new environment. This one was doing a fine impression of a golden retriever. There was an odd synergy between the woman and the dog—both sleek, assured, and pretending to be harmless.

 They reached his office, where Lina sat at a pristine desk, presenting the last line of defense to the visitors. The desk was crafted from polished metal, with a single white orchid growing from a simple pot. His secretary chose to match the orchid today. A white dress hugged her body, perfectly tailored and form-fitting, yet elegant. Her deep emerald hair, wrapped in a trendy twist, shimmered with peridot highlights. Her eyebrows were black and shaped with laser precision, and she had selected green and black eye shadow to accent her eyes and mauve to tint her lips. As always, the effect was stunning.

Unfortunately, his newest intern had referred to that precise shade of mauve as “hot dog lips,” and now he could not divorce himself from it. Mentoring the youngest Baylor child came with its own annoyances.

He nodded to Lina and led his visitor to the right, where a translucent wall of frosted glass hid his office space. A nearly seamless door swung open, and Augustine invited Diana in with a sweep of his hand. She entered and sat in a chair, smoothing the skirt of her elegant grey business suit with a practiced gesture. The Doberman dropped on the floor to her right. Not a concern in the world.

Augustine sat behind his desk. His office was located in the corner where two walls of blue glass met at an angle, and from his vantage point, he had a wide view of Downtown Houston. Unlike most people, he loved heights.

Diana glanced at a sign on the right wall, a quote without attribution. Trust Not Too Much in Appearances.

“Virgil,” she said.

It appeared that House Harrison believed in a classical education. “It’s a reminder,” he said.

“To you or to your visitors?”

“To me. We do our best to convince our visitors that we are trustworthy.”

“Is that why you chose a modern aesthetic for the building?”

He nodded. “Most people who want to hire an illusion mage come to us unsure what they might find. Consciously or subconsciously, they expect to be deceived. Our business requires trust, so we keep the interior simple, almost austere. Long unbroken walls, concrete floors, and transparent glass leave little room for illusions. People find it reassuring.”

“I see.”

She wasn’t giving him very much to work with.

“Are you truly trustworthy, Prime Montgomery?”

Augustine leaned back in his chair. “That depends on your definition of trust. Will I keep everything you tell me confidential, and will I do everything in my ability to help you if we reach an agreement? Yes.”

“In that case, would you mind answering a question before we begin?”

His guess was proving accurate. Nothing about this visit would be boring. “That depends on the question.”

Diana gave him a small smile, but her eyes remained watchful.

“I know that Arabella Baylor visits this office twice a week, and she hasn’t told her mother or her sister, Catalina, about it.”

Diana’s gaze turned direct and unblinking. She likely felt protective toward the Baylors. He wasn’t obligated to explain, but good business relationships relied on trust. And it was a reasonable question. Catalina, Arabella’s sister, was the Head of the House. Anything hidden from the Head of the House usually wasn’t good.

Augustine reached into his desk, took out a folder, and offered it to her.

Diana glanced at the contents. “Internship agreement signed by Nevada Rogan? Arabella’s oldest sister gave her permission for this?”

“My sister graduated from Donovan High.” Normally he had a knee-jerk reaction to avoid speaking about his family, but for some reason it didn’t trigger in her presence.

Diana’s eyebrows rose. “Donovan? Not Heritage?”

Of the two high schools catering to the magically gifted, Heritage was far more prestigious. If you were a scion of a House, you went to Heritage, while Donovan took the rest.

“Yes. She attended under an assumed name.”

And an assumed persona. If Verena’s former classmates ever met her off school grounds, they wouldn’t recognize her. Except for Arabella, none of them had any idea what his sister truly looked like.

“The principal and the senior staff were aware of who she is,” he continued. “My sister wanted it this way, and I acquiesced. Let’s just say that I understand what drives Matilda better than most people.”

An understatement of the year.

“Arabella also attended Donovan,” Diana said.

“Yes. They are friends.”

The strangest friendship that sprouted from a bizarre crisis. It made sense. Both children had been held back a year, both were the oldest students in their graduating class at 19, and now both were doing the transitional post-graduation program designed to pad their college applications because neither qualified for the school of their choice without it.

The old him would have never expected his sister to be held back or struggle with her academics. He would’ve expected Verena to blaze to the Valedictorian spot and have her pick of schools the way Seraphina had.

A familiar cold vise squeezed his throat. Losing a sibling fundamentally altered his expectations for his remaining sister, brother, and the cousin he had taken in. He was less of a brother now and more of a parent, and he went from expecting traditional success and academic excellence to celebrating minute signs that they were slowly but steadily moving past the horror that almost destroyed their family.

Diana was waiting for him to elaborate.

“They’re both enrolled in Path to College. It is a gap year program that offers AP courses, which makes students more attractive to college admission departments. Both Arabella and Verena are taking House Business Administration, which requires one hundred and sixty hours of an internship with a business owned by a House other than your family.”

“You swapped,” Diana said. “The Rogans took your sister, and you took Arabella.”

He nodded. “It’s an arrangement that works for both children. I know that Connor and Nevada will not put my sister in harm’s way, and they understand that I will do the same for Arabella.Have I passed the trust test?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, how may I help you?”

“What I am about to tell you is secret,” Diana said. “And I would kill to keep it that way in the literal sense of that word.”

“Understood.”

“Are you familiar with Zeus?”

“The Greek god or your brother’s tiger?”

“The tiger.”

She took a slim tablet from her purse, flicked her fingers across it, and showed it to him. On the screen, a massive animal stretched, vaguely feline, a distant cousin of a tiger if tigers had blue fur splattered with darker and paler rosettes and a fringe of six-inch-long tentacles around their necks.

All the magic talents in the world fit into three broad categories: elemental, mental, and arcane. The elemental mages commanded the proverbial elements—fire, water, weather and so on. The mental mages displayed powers of the mind, like telekinesis, illusion, and truthseeking. Everything else, everything that was odd and unusual, fit into the category of arcane.

 Of the arcane discipline, summoning was one of the least understood. Summoners reached into the arcane realm, a place of magic outside of normal reality, called forth monstrous creatures, and hurled these biological weapons at their opponents. Nobody knew exactly how any of it worked, and the summoners were not forthcoming with explanations.

Creatures brought over by weaker summoners vanished when their temporary masters lost focus. Monsters conjured by upper-level mages stayed in the world permanently, but most summoned creatures had short lifespans, even with the best of care. They withered, like repotted plants that failed to take root. Sometimes it took days, sometimes weeks, but eventually all arcane creatures perished. With the exception of the organisms that were planted into a human host.

Zeus had been plucked from an arcane realm by a summoner Prime, who used him to attack Nevada Baylor and Diana’s brother, Cornelius. Somehow during that confrontation, Cornelis had tamed Zeus against all odds, severing the link between the creature and the summoner.

Augustine had looked into it after the incident. No animal mage on record had even been able to bond with a summoned beast. Cornelius was the only exception, and the bond between them somehow kept Zeus alive and thriving.

“We decided to call the species Tigrionex,” Diana said.

Tigris, Latin for tiger, and nex meaning violent death. “Tiger of slaughter?”

“Yes.” Diana slid her finger across the tablet. Another image appeared, still of Zeus. Wait, no. This blue tiger was slightly different. It looked a little smaller, and its blue fur had a slight purple tint.

Augustine glanced at Diana. “You obtained a second tiger?”

She nodded. “Cornelius and I had purchased her at great expense. She had been manifested by a Prime summoner during a feud with a rival House and critically injured in that fight. They agreed to sell her to us because she was dying.”

The cost must’ve been astronomical.

“Her name is Celeste. I was able to form a pact with her.”

“Not Hera?”

“No. We didn’t want to jinx it.”

House Harrison had access to two summoned beasts, and both of them had bonded to their tamers. Clearly, there was something special about that family.

“Zeus and Celeste were allowed to mate. Before you ask, it was voluntary on their part. We would never exercise our influence over our animals to force a breeding. It was a difficult pregnancy.”

“What about cloning or surrogacy?” he asked.

“That would have meant taking the choice away from them.”

So they would risk a massive investment for the sake of maintaining the animals’ autonomy. Interesting.

 “We almost lost the mother, but in the end a single cub was born.”

Another swipe of her fingers, and a new image. A shockingly adorable blue cub, all fluff, big eyes, and oversized paws. He wasn’t given to sentimentality, but even he had to admit that the cuteness was off the charts.

An arcane creature born in this world. He could think of several highly educated magic experts who would argue that this little beast couldn’t exist and would happily die on that hill.

If anyone found out about this, the Harrisons would come under massive pressure. Some would want to study the cub, some would want to purchase it, and others would want to kill it to keep the Harrisons from rising in power. A House who could breed and command arcane beasts. Not summon them with an expiration date but keep them, permanently. The potential was staggering.

“What’s the cub’s name?” he asked.

“We call her Kitty.”

Augustine blinked.

“It’s a placeholder name. We were hoping that when Kitty grew a little, Matilda would form a pact with her. My niece is very talented, and she sounds mature, but she is still a nine-year-old child. She makes reckless decisions. Cornelius and I will do everything in our power to protect her, but we cannot be everywhere at once.”

And Kitty would grow up to be a formidable protector.

“These animals are different. They are smarter, more aware, and the bond with them is deeper,” Diana said. “Every species is different when it comes to forming a connection. Tigers are solitary and self-sufficient. They have to be coaxed. Lions are clingy and social. They reach out. The tigrionex are like us, Augustine, inquisitive and social. They are curious about humans. They seem to like us and seek the bond, and they are persistent about it.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“We don’t know. But rebuffing an animal that seeks to bond that intensely is difficult. It feels unnatural. Especially when you are Matilda’s age.”

From the way she made it sound, if the child and the cub came in contact, the bond process would happen almost involuntarily.

Diana shifted in her chair, sliding one leg over the other. It wasn’t a calculated movement, but he had to make a conscious effort not to linger on the lines of her body. The last time they’d met, it had been like that, too. He’d dismissed it as a passing attraction then, but it was worse now, with her in his client chair.

“Because of the difficult pregnancy, we decided to wait to introduce Matilda and the cub. We want to make sure Kitty survives. If Matilda bonds with her and the cub dies, the trauma to my niece would be catastrophic. That’s why the Baylors can’t be involved in this matter. Matilda spends most of her time at the Baylor compound. In the two months since they bought that estate, Matilda made friends with every mouse and bird on their property. She spies on the Baylors constantly. Nothing happens in that house that my niece doesn’t know about.”

“Can she hear through mouse ears?” he asked.

Diana looked at him for a second. “Vikilinta recording devices are one inch long, have the width of pencil graphite, and weigh nineteen grams. They’re voice-activated and can record up to four hundred hours of audio. A healthy adult mouse weighs between forty and forty-five grams, can carry twice her body weight, and can be convinced to wear a harness.”

And now he felt like a fool. What in the world was he thinking? The child was a budding Prime, not a mythical Beastmaster. Something about the connection between tech and animals always short-circuited his brain.

“Of course. However, I can’t imagine the Baylors would look favorably on that kind of security breach.”

“I’ve stressed the need for privacy to her multiple times,” Diana said. “I do not believe her obsessive recording is malicious.”

“Then why is she doing it?”

Diana sighed. Her face took on a slightly worn expression. “It is my understanding that a child subjected to early trauma, such as losing a mother in a horrific way, often seeks to establish control over her environment.”

“Matilda is afraid that she will miss something vital and the people she cares about will die.”

“Yes. You see now why we’d hidden the cub.”

He understood perfectly.

“Matilda keeps the information she overhears confidential, unless something alarms her.”

Ah. That’s how Diana found out about Arabella’s internship. Matilda must’ve discovered it and shared it with her aunt.

Diana studied him for another moment and turned the tablet toward him. On it, Kitty took shaky steps on stubby legs. She stumbled over to her frightening mother and batted at the otherworldly beast with her small paw. Celeste lowered her head. The cub tried to pounce, fell, and let out a frustrated noise, a tiny baby growl.

“You said something was stolen from you. They took the cub,” he guessed.

“They did.”

For a moment something vicious and cold shone through Diana’s eyes. It seemed so incompatible with her usual demeanor, he wondered if he’d imagined it.

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

“Have you received a ransom demand?”

“No.”

“You need MII’s help to find and recover Kitty,” he said.

“Yes.”

“You’ve gone to great lengths to keep Kitty’s existence secret. Someone discovered it against all odds, infiltrated your security, and stole the cub. If this was a money grab, by now the kidnapper would’ve reached out. This tells me two things: the entity behind the theft wanted the cub for a specific purpose and the culprit is likely another House.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

They both knew what was left unsaid: a conflict like that meant House warfare. When Houses clashed, they paid the price not just in money, but in lives, and that cost could be staggering. Diana’s face told him she understood all of that.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“No.”

“If you had to guess?”

“Any animal mage would kill to possess a tigrionex,” she said. “People know we have Zeus. We’ve had multiple offers from many Houses who want to purchase him. We rejected all of them. One of the Houses attempted to break the bond between Zeus and Cornelius.”

“What happened?”

“They are no longer a House.”

To become a House, a family had to produce three Primes in two generations. To remain a House, it had to have at least one living Prime. The Harrissons had killed at least one rival animal Prime. Possibly more.

“Kitty is still nursing,” Diana said. “She requires her mother’s milk to survive. There is no substitute. No formula. Without Celeste’s milk, she will fall sick very quickly. We cannot wait.”

“A recovery like that will be costly in every sense of that word. Although our Houses are in a friendship pact, even with that discount, the fee would be significant. Do you wish to see an estimate?”

“No. Whatever it takes. We will pay it.”

“Are you sure?” The Harrisons were a House, but their talents didn’t have many lucrative applications. He would put their total net worth under forty million.

“Absolutely. This isn’t property, Prime Montgomery. This is a life.”

Diana brushed her fingers over the recording. Her eyes shone with green, a sign of her magic activating.

“We welcomed Kitty into this world, we assumed responsibility for her, and now she is scared and alone. Celeste knows that her daughter is gone. I can feel her grief even now, through our bond. She relies on me to bring her home. Whatever it takes. Kitty must nurse in the next 24 hours, or we may lose her and Celeste both.”

She looked up at him, and he glimpsed desperation in her expression.

 “Will you help me, Augustine?”

He looked into her green and brown eyes, and the words came out before he realized he had spoken. “Of course, I will.”