Kaliope blitzed the punching bag with her wrapped fists until her sore arms surrendered.
He’d seen her.
And she ran.
She ran from Ronin McIntyre, embarrassed and exposed under his scrutiny. What must he think of her? And the fact that she cared…Kaliope kicked the punching bag and sent it swinging. Eyes darted in her direction as she drew the attention of others in the gym.
Stupid magic. It must have fried her brain. There was no other explanation for her spontaneous breakdown. She’d have to see Dr. Joriah about a stronger prescription.
The next day, Kaliope exited her apartment to the toot of a horn. Inola’s swanky, gunmetal gray sports car rolled up to the curb. The early morning sun shimmered off its sleek, aerodynamic body. The first time Kaliope saw it, she’d been too caught up in the McIntyre sibling drama to appreciate the masterwork of engineering.
Inola said Gale was stupid rich, but she had to be in the same bracket to drive something like this. Were all of them well-to-do? Did all of them live in the Upper District or someplace adjacent? The tinted driver-side window rolled down, and Inola popped her head out.
“Yo.” Inola waved at Kaliope as if they hadn’t seen each other the day before.
“Inola, why are you here?”
“Carpool.”
Inola’s sentence trailed off with her attention as she focused on a man pulling the hood of his black sweatshirt over his head, strolling the opposite way.
“Who’s that?”
Kaliope recognized the graffiti design on the hoodie. “Neighbor. Why carpool?”
“Save on gas and emissions.”
“I don’t drive, Inola. And the train won’t stop running if we carpool.”
Inola rolled her eyes. “Hop in already. I have an update on the case.”
Inola zoomed down the road, effortlessly weaving in and out of traffic as she updated Kaliope on the latest development surrounding the missing jewel. Kaliope sat with the information awhile.
“Zohar’s daughter turned him in?”
“Yep. Quite the scandal.” Inola sighed. “Downside is the assembly investigators aren’t one to share information with us. Ronin’s duking it out upstairs so we can question Rowena and Zohar for our case. Jurisdiction this and jurisdiction that. Most times, we do the work, and those pricks swoop in to steal the glory.”
“So it really was a family feud.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. Better internal quarrels than the alternative.”
“Yeah. No. It’s not—” Kaliope frowned at the source of her disappointment. She wasn’t an agent of anarchy. Avoiding a social implosion was the objective at any cost. But witnessing another family fall apart because of selfish motives stained her tongue with a sour taste. “It’s just unfortunate, that’s all.” They’d found the ring. Juniper should be relieved by the news. But a new web of unfortunate events was about to unfold. “What will happen to Zohar and his daughter?”
“Criminal charges for the theft. Sanctions from the Witcher Council for breaking the house constitution. Excommunication if they can’t convince the Main House to show leniency.”
“Damn.” With the minor branch out, the pressure would be on for Ballister to carry on the family name, lest it ends with him after his father’s impending death. Poor Juniper. How will she hold up? She already blamed herself for the whole affair.
Other witches warned her against allowing a mix-blood into the family.
“What do you know about mix-bloods?”
“You mean like Juniper?” Kaliope nodded at Inola’s question. The fox demon eased them off the main street into lighter traffic. “Unlike witches and demons, lycans don’t procreate well outside their race. They stick together out of necessity to preserve their bloodlines. Lycan mating is…complicated. They have a thing called Blooming when a male lycan develops this essence. He’ll pass it on to his chosen mate if the other person accepts. Then they form a stronger bond than any emotional or blood connection. But if he’s turned down and the bloom dies, that lycan might never be able to be with anyone else again.
“It’s like the extreme of unrequited love. Except this one maims your love life for…well…life. Rare cases of second Bloomings occur. And I mean rare. Like one every one hundred years. Most lycans prefer to avoid Blooming. Not that they have a choice. It’s a random selection. A good percentage never experience the Blooming, and they live, love, and start families just fine.”
“Lycans don’t do anything half-measure, do they?”
“Nope. They do not. They’re intense from birth to death. Ah, I almost forgot.” Inola bounced in the driver’s seat as she grew excited. “Check the glove compartment.”
Kaliope popped the compartment and retrieved a slim box inside. Nestled in velvet was a necklace with a thin silver chain and a single pendant of a milky white stone. The design was understated, but there was a subtle elegance to it. Kaliope gasped.
“It’s beautiful.”
Inola parked in the front lot of Sage Tower. She unclipped her seat belt and pivoted excitedly in her seat. “Touch it.”
Kalliope traced a finger over the stone, and the milky white color changed, tinged with swirls of green and purple. “Whoa.”
“It’s a mood stone. As long as it touches your skin, it’ll absorb your aura. Meena, my sister, is a stonesmith apprentice in the Anvil District. It’s where the Chimeran craft-smiths have all their stores and workshops.”
“It’s in the Seam?”
“Yep. Meena works there on weekends.”
“It looks…” Not only out of her dimension but her budget as well. “How much—?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Inola snatched the necklace and spun Kaliope to help her clasp it. “You don’t pay for gifts.” She was out of the car before Kaliope’s rebuttal formed.
Kaliope tucked the pendant into her blouse. She shivered as the chilled stone touched her skin, then it warmed. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
~
Kaliope strode into her office, confident with her new armor dangling around her necklace. The joy lasted for a solid one second before the ominous aura in the room dried her throat. At his desk, a jittery Gideon shot furtive glances toward Ronin’s office. He was alone.
Gale’s banishment to the IT department continued either by the witch’s choice to avoid her, the pesky human, or at Ronin’s command. Whenever guilt pricked about Kaliope’s role in splitting up the team, she reminded herself Gale was the aggressor. Whatever he dished, she’d serve in kind. Why should she feel remorseful for standing up for herself?
Gideon sprang to his feet when he noticed them. A thin layer of sweat sheened his forehead. “Thank heavens you’re here. Do something.” His pleading was for Inola.
Inola sighed, hands on her hips. “No dice with the investigators?”
“No. They’re stonewalling us, saying they have the first crack at the Falgors.” Gideon wiped his forehead. “I need to go for a walk. Excuse me.” The werewolf rushed out of the office like it was on fire.
Inola’s usually joyful countenance darkened as she contemplated Ronin’s privacy-screened office. “There’s something wrong with the boss.”
“Yeah. He’s pissed at the glory snatchers for impeding our case.”
“No. I mean, seriously wrong. Ronin’s been feeling weird to me lately.” Inola moved her shoulders as if trying to rid herself of the sensation. “I tried to shrug it off as stress over the case, but my fur’s on edge.”
Lately? As in, since she arrived? Kaliope bit the inside of her mouth. There it was again. Guilt. She played it off, not wanting to dwell on the possibility. Not wanting to give it credence. “I thought you liked it when the boss goes all wolfman.”
“Sure. It’s a nice reminder Ronin has actual emotions. He’s always so restrained.” Inola clicked her tongue. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. I dunno.” She folded her arms, feet tapping an agitated beat on the tiles.
“Can’t he ask his father for help cutting the red tape? He’s the Chairman of the Assembly.”
“No. Ronin would never run to his father for preferential treatment. Matthias wouldn’t stand for it, either. He’s the kick-the-baby-bird-from-the-nest-and-see-if-it-flies type. If it does, great. Another fighter for the pack. If it splats the ground…” Inola shrugged. “Oh well.”
Kaliope cringed. That was taking tough love to a whole different level.
“But there is someone I might be able to ask for a favor.” Inola offered this concession with unsuppressed reluctance. “Hold the fort.”
“Hold the—?” Inola spun to leave, and Kaliope grabbed her arm. “Are you leaving me here with…?” She peered over her shoulder. As much as her survival instincts warned of danger, Kaliope’s human senses weren’t as fine-tuned as a demon’s or a werewolf’s. If Ronin was about to lose it…
“Told you before, he won’t bite.”
Kaliope pitched her voice in a low whisper. “And you also said something was wrong with him.”
Inola patted Kaliope’s hand before prying her fingers loose. “Welcome to the Lycan’s Den.”
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