Chapter 230

Though Tristan Cole had a face as thick as a fortress wall, he at least knew when to call it a night.

After finishing his tea at Aria Bennett's place and staying for about twenty minutes, he tactfully took his leave. His visit was mainly to make a good impression on his future mother-in-law—though if Aria had known his thoughts, she might have thrown the scalding tea in his face.

Once Tristan was gone, Aria turned to find Nolan Reed staring at her with puppy-dog eyes.

"You're still here?" she arched a brow.

Nolan pouted. "Can't I stay a little longer?" He grumbled, "What's so great about that smirking fox anyway? You even served him tea."

Aria rolled her eyes. "He gave me two rides. The least I could do was offer him a cup."

Nolan's eyes brightened. "So you're not into him?"

"What are you thinking?" She shot him another exasperated look. "I've only met him a handful of times."

At that, Nolan broke into a grin.

Aria suddenly crooked a finger at him. "Got nothing better to do? Come help me with something big."

She'd been looking for a free chauffeur anyway.

Nolan's eyes lit up instantly. "Let's go!"

Dinner plans could wait—getting into mischief with Aria was far more important.

Aria packed a bag, told her mother she was heading out, and soon they were in the underground parking lot where Nolan eagerly held the car door open for her.

"Take us here," she said, giving him an address.

The two-hour drive passed with idle chatter, never dull.

By nightfall, they arrived at the foot of a mountain.

"Here." Aria handed him a flashlight. "We're going up."

Nolan frowned. "What are we doing here in the middle of the night?"

"The Whitmore family ancestral graves are here," she said coldly. "What do you think I'm here for?"

"You're messing with their graves?" He blinked, then grinned. "Brilliant!"

The rugged mountain path took half an hour to navigate before they located the Whitmore family plot.

Aria pulled out a set of ancient ritual blade coins. "Bury these at seventy-centimeter intervals."

Nolan took the entrenching tool and got to work while Aria busied herself arranging talismans and adjusting the geomantic alignment.

Suddenly, a sharp cry cut through the night.

Nolan had fallen, his palm sliced open by one of the coins, blood instantly staining the ancient metal.

Aria rushed over—just in time to see a wisp of dark energy seep into his wound.

"You okay?" she asked, frowning.

He shook his head. "Just tripped."

After tending to his injury, they finished the setup and descended the mountain.

"So when will the Whitmores start having bad luck?" Nolan asked eagerly on the drive back.

"Starting tomorrow. Full effect in a week." Aria leaned back, eyes closed. The toll of drawing talismans and setting up the array had drained her.

Noticing her exhaustion, Nolan quietly turned down the AC.

The car glided smoothly through the night toward the city.

That evening, Nolan had a long, unsettling dream.

When he woke, his pillow was damp with sweat.