His brow smoothed out, and a hint of warmth entered his eyes. “Like nothing you’ll have ever seen before. It’s no more peaceful than it is up here, though.”
Maybe not, but being below ground would be extra security. If anyone from Aeon came looking for some sign of Wynter, they’d never get down there to check. The rest of the crew must have had the same thought, because they all voted for living in the subterranean city.
“To be clear, there are no apartment buildings down there,” said Maxim. “There are only houses, and no one has a house to themselves. There are dwellings with enough rooms to accommodate you all, however. Most were extended so that covens and packs etc. could stick together.”
“Good, we’d want to share a place anyway,” said Delilah. “We’d all especially want to live with Wynter. Being away from our Priestess makes us uncomfortable.”
Wynter shot her a hard look. “Woman, I swear if you don’t stop this shitI will cut you.”
Grinning, Delilah totally ignored that and slapped one of her damn business cards on the desk. “The Bloodrose Coven at your service,” she told Maxim.
For fuck’s sake.
His brow creased, he thanked her and placed the card in a drawer. “Now …” He opened a thick-ass file that seemed to hold records of some sort. “If I remember rightly, there are two houses in the city vacant that are large enough to accommodate five people,” he said, leafing through the pages before landing on a particular one. “Yes, there are, in fact, two. The problem is … they’re both vacant for a reason.”
Wynter folded her arms. “Which is?”
“Mostly, it’s about their location.” Bracing his elbows on the desk, he interlinked his fingers. “Like calls to like, so vampires gravitate toward vampires, mages gravitate toward mages, etc., etc. Nests and conclaves and so on have formed. It’s only natural. Some species prefer to congregate in the same area. Several courts of fey, for instance, can share territory with no issue. But other species, such as lycans or were-beasts, do not do so well with living very close tootherpacks. They don’t wish to share their turf with their own kind.”
Understanding how territorial those particular species were, Wynter nodded.
“The first empty residence is actually in a very peaceful neighborhood. The problem? You would be the only people in it who are not fey. And while fey can live among each other peacefully, they tend to drive out other types of preternatural using just about any means necessary.
“As for the other residence … that house plus both the front and back yards are the only slices of territory that separates two packs of lycans. Every other home on that particular street is occupied by them. And these two packs argue frequently. There’s usually no physical fighting, merely bickering. But it can get loud and tedious, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Delilah frowned. “Neither house sounds like a winner. But, personally, I’d rather deal with childish lycans than the damn fey.”
Hattie hummed in agreement. “Fey are tricksters right down to the bone.”
“They’ll pull all kinds of shit in their efforts to drive us out,” said Xavier.
Wynter looked at Anabel, who was doodling circles on her inner elbow with her fingertip. “What about you, Anabel? Fey, or lycans?”
“I’ll go with lycans,” she replied. “Statistically speaking, they’re less likely to kill us.”
Barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Wynter turned back to Maxim. “We’ll go with the latter option, then.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said. “Few like to live among the fey unless they are fey themselves. Now, nobody is required to pay rent or bills, but they are required to buy their own food and possessions. To adequately support your coven, I would say that at least two of you will need to work.”
Hattie let out a self-depreciating laugh. “I don’t think my frail old bones could take another day of work.”
Wynter snorted. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with Hattie’s bones or any other part of her. The woman would probably outlive them all. But Maxim, totally sucked in by Hattie’s act, gave her a gentle smile and assured her that her coven would no doubt support her decision.
Delilah looked at Wynter and rolled her eyes.
“There are various job openings in both the town and the city,” said Maxim. “If any of you struggle to find employment, however, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. Sometimes shop owners are willing to let people purchase something in trade, but most prefer cash.”
Wynter twisted her mouth. “I don’t suppose you have a blacksmith’s shop, do you?”
He blinked. “We have several, actually. There’s a smithy who could use an extra set of hands, but he probably wouldn’t hire you because helikesto be able to moan that he and his assistant are overworked. They call him Grouch for a reason.”
“I could at least ask him, right?” said Wynter. “If he says no, he says no.”
“There’s no harm in it. I’ll point out where the shop is when we’re beneath the town. Don’t be surprised or take it personally if Grouch turns you away.”
Pausing, Maxim tapped his fingers on the desk. “Now for the rules you’ll live by as long as you reside in Devil’s Cradle. It’s not a long, complicated list. Most of it is pure common sense. No stealing, no assault, no breaking and entering, no stepping into the home of an Ancient unless you’re invited. People are allowed to challenge other residents to duels, but there will be no fights to the death unless it has been first cleared by the Ancient by whom they were marked. Except for in instances of self-defense, murder is the one thing that is not tolerated unless approval has been granted. Is that understood?”
Each of them nodded.