Sophie Deveraux's restaurant was exactly as described—small, authentic, frequented by locals who knew better than to ask questions.
I arrived at dusk, when the dinner crowd was thin. Sophie herself was working the floor, moving between tables with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd done this work her whole life.
"Table for one?"
"Actually, I'm here to see you."
She paused, reassessing. Her eyes flickered with recognition—word traveled fast in supernatural circles, and I was the new mystery everyone was talking about.
"Marcel's pet wants to talk to me?"
"Marcel's asset wants to talk to you." I smiled. "There's a difference."
She studied me for a moment, then gestured toward a back room. "Kitchen's through there. We can talk while I work."
The kitchen was hot, loud, filled with the smell of garlic and onions and something spicy simmering on the stove. Sophie moved automatically, checking pots, stirring sauces, while I leaned against a counter and watched.
"You've got five minutes before I need to get back to my customers."
"Plenty of time." I waited until she glanced up. "The Harvest. What do you know about it?"
Her hands stilled on the ladle. Just for a moment—but I noticed.
"Nothing. Old witch stories. Nothing that concerns vampires."
"Jane-Anne thinks differently."
The name hit like a slap. Sophie's face went through several rapid shifts—surprise, fear, anger, and finally, careful neutrality.
"How do you know about Jane-Anne?"
"I know lots of things. That's my value." I pushed off from the counter. "Here's what I also know: The Harvest is coming. Four girls will be sacrificed to the ancestors. Most of them will die—really die, not the resurrection your coven promises. And one of them will survive with power she can't control."
Sophie's hands were shaking now. She set down the ladle, gripping the counter for support.
"That's... that's not public knowledge."
"It's not. But I know it anyway." I moved closer, keeping my voice low. "I also know that you're not like the others. You have doubts about the ancestors. You're not sure the old ways are worth following. And you're terrified that your sister is going to get herself—and a lot of other people—killed."
"Who are you?" Sophie's voice cracked. "What are you?"
"Someone who can help." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small charm—a protective ward I'd crafted using knowledge from a reality where witch magic worked differently. "This will shield you from ancestral detection for one month. Wear it, and they won't be able to monitor your thoughts or track your movements."
She took the charm like it might explode. "Why would you help me?"
"Because the witches who follow the old ways are going to start a war. And wars make things... messy." I smiled. "I prefer cleaner solutions."
Sophie clutched the charm, her eyes searching my face for answers she wouldn't find.
"What do you want in return?"
"Information. Nothing more, nothing less. When the Harvest planning intensifies, when Agnes makes her move, when Klaus finally arrives—you tell me first." I headed for the back door. "Deal?"
"And if I don't?"
"Then you figure out how to protect your sister on your own. Good luck with that."
I left her standing in the kitchen, charm clutched to her chest, expression caught between hope and terror.
[Witch contact established: Sophie Deveraux]
[Allegiance: Neutral, leaning toward cooperation]
[Quest progress: 2/5 key players identified]
[Marcel's court: Diego (hostile), Thierry (suspicious), Josh (friendly)]
Next: Davina.
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