Chapter 230

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

After finishing his tea at Lucy White'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 Lucy had known his thoughts, she might have thrown the scalding tea in his face.

Once Julian was gone, Lucy turned to find Michael Johnson staring at her with puppy-dog eyes.

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

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

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

Michael'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, Michael broke into a grin.

Lucy 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.

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

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

Lucy packed a bag, told her mother she was heading out, and soon they were in the underground parking lot where Michael 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." Lucy handed him a flashlight. "We're going up."

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

"The Gould 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 Gould family plot.

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

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

Suddenly, a sharp cry cut through the night.

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

Lucy 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 Goulds start having bad luck?" Michael asked eagerly on the drive back.

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

Noticing her exhaustion, Michael quietly turned down the AC.

The car glided smoothly through the night toward the city.

That evening, Michael had a long, unsettling dream.

When he woke, his pillow was damp with sweat.