Page 75 of Spirit Storm

"Probably." Wylder pats my shoulder. "But at least it'll be a disaster somewhere warm."

I pull out my phone and open the Brigade group chat.

Poppy: Potential lead in the Bahamas. Need to meet with a descendant who has family information about the lockstones. Anyone who wants to come, we're leaving in the morning. Let me know.

The responses start immediately.

Clara: Bahamas?? YES. I mean—for important demon-stopping reasons, obviously.

Izzy: Might be able to swing it. Let me check the schedule.

Orion: Asher and I are packing now.

Wylder: I'm in.

I look up at him texting right beside me. “You’re encouraging them.”

He laughs. “If there’s one thing this week has taught me, it’s that we need to live life while we’re able to live it.”

Yeah, it’s hard to argue that.

“All right. I’ll book us a beach house and a rental car.”

The world stabilizes around us in stages—first sound, then light, then the sharp awareness of standing on solid ground again. It’s bizarre how each person I encounter who can portal delivers a different experience.

I’m not a huge fan, but Garrison makes it almost tolerable. Almost.

"Welcome to Nassau," Garrison rumbles, his massive frame blocking most of the sun streaming through the arched windows.

We're in an indoor courtyard—open-air, pale stone, and lush tropical plants spilling from raised beds along the perimeter.

The Bahamas Chapter Order headquarters sprawls around us in whitewashed buildings with terracotta roofs, looking more like a resort than a magical command center.

The air hits different here. It’s heavy with salt and warmth, carrying the distant rhythm of waves.

"This is gorgeous," Clara breathes, spinning in a slow circle.

It is. I’m trying to remain focused and professional, but it’s tough with the colorful hibiscus blooms nodding in the breeze.

And while I was ready to take on the arrangements and costs of taking my team away for a work-cation, Garrison said it was wholly unnecessary. Apparently, we’re not the first people who have wanted to work a little R&R into visiting the island, so they have an entire guest wing.

Garrison gestures toward a covered walkway. "We’ll get you settled first, then arrange transportation and coordinate with the local chapter."

We follow him through corridors that open to glimpses of turquoise water beyond the compound walls. Everything here feels lighter, sun-soaked, impossibly blue.

The guest quarters are a cluster of six rooms that sit around a shared common space with rattan furniture and ceiling fans turning lazy circles overhead.

"Nice digs, boss," Asher declares, dumping his duffel on one of the beds visible through an open doorway. "Way better than the last place Poppy and I stayed."

I groan. "That was a hostel in Kansas when our building got tented for bugs.”

"And it was a nightmare.”

True story.

Garrison waits while we sort ourselves into rooms: Clara and Izzy claiming one with twin beds, Rowan taking a single, Wylder and I sharing another, and Asher and Orion in the fourth.

I give Orion credit. It’s tough for some people to be around Asher when he's excited, and excited Asher in a tropical location might actually be next level.