by Ann Denton
Marian snaps on a pair of gloves and pulls my uniform out of the bag. Her eyes get huge as she sees the glowing yellow baby puke and the blue hair from the bathroom all over it. Her face grows pale.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “If that’s like some kind of puke you’re allergic to, don’t worry about it. I can take it somewhere else.”
“Nope. No, you’re good. Just the smell,” she says tightly, swallowing hard.
“Oh, okay. Good. You think it’s something you can get out?” I ask.
She nods once. “Might not be ready ‘til late.”
I wave my hand dismissively. “No worries. I’ve got work all night. I won’t be able to get back here ‘til morning probably.”
She nods and holds her breath as she carries my uniform into the back room.
I sigh. Her reaction to the puke was pretty bad. Hopefully that doesn’t mean it was gonna cost me an arm and a leg. Unlike the brownie, I didn’t come armed with a ton of coupons.
One chore down, I make my way to the Academy early. I stuff my things into a locker and head to the main room to stretch. I have a feeling Flowers is still gonna be angry about last night and will try to make the evening’s exercise routine more painful than usual.
I’m surprised to find the lights on in the main room when I get there. I’m even more surprised to see Bennett pummeling the crap out of a practice dummy in the corner.
I debate saying hi but decide that him turning around to see me awkwardly watching would give a stalkerish vibe. So, I suck it up and walk over.
“Hey,” I say.
He gives a giant roundhouse kick to the dummy that would have broken a real man’s neck. “Hey.”
“I texted.”
“I saw.”
I wait but he just keeps beating the dummy. Okay, then. I do one of those awkward lip smack things, where you don’t really know what to say. “I’m gonna go stretch out before Flowers gets here.”
Bennett nods but doesn’t respond beyond that.
I walk to the far side of the room and sit down on a mat. I stretch, watching Bennett out of the corner of my eye. I feel bad for him. I mean, when fae were being attacked, I’d been scared for my family. And I’m just a part fairy. I don’t have the clan bonds that dragons do.
Supposedly, dragons and their “clans” and werewolves and their “packs” are connected on this deeper, more intense level.
I really hope that the dragon wasn’t from Bennett’s old clan. I have no idea if Bennett still feels the connection even though he’s gone rogue. I really don’t know a lot. I sigh.
Part of me wishes I liked research like Seena. This job involves a lot of different species and all their drama. And I am coming to realize just how little I know about the world around me.
But … instead of becoming Seena, what if I just asked him?
I grab my phone and text him.
Would Bennett be able to feel the connection to the dragon that died even if B’s rogue?
“No,” a rough voice above me startles me.
I drop my phone and look up. Bennett’s standing over me. I didn’t even hear him come up.
“No, I can’t tell if he’s from my old clan,” Bennett’s voice is gruff. “I can’t tell anything anymore.”
“Oh,” my voice is small. I’m not sure what to say.
“He OD’d. Zoe confirmed it,” Bennett says, staring at the wall.
My chest aches for him. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
“She turned him human and everything back at the morgue. I watched … in case. I didn’t recognize him.”
I feel a rush of relief that Bennett’s not dealing with one of his former clan members. I bite my lip and nod. His jaw doesn’t unclench though. So, he doesn’t feel that relief. A dead dragon still hurts him. Former clan or not.
“Zoe put time of death three days ago.”
My stomach drops. “Before the old woman.”
His nod is brief. “Her prints were on him. Figure Seena was right. He kicked it and she didn’t want to deal with him, so she stuffed him up there. Zoe’s gonna run a couple more tests but … yeah.”
I shake my head. There’s nothing to say to that. That woman was a drug dealer and a despicable creature.
Three days. I don’t say anything but I’m worried. The dragon’s clan hasn’t noticed he’s gone? They haven’t been searching for him? My mind skims over our evening briefings. I haven’t heard anything about a missing dragon in our meetings. I would have remembered that.
“They still searching for an identity?” I ask tightly.
Bennett nods. “Lotta overseas clans. Lotta dragons travel for work. He must not have been expected home yet. Zoe thinks she’ll have an ID by tomorrow.”
“Anything I can do?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Nothing any of us can do.” He runs a hand through his hair. “To be honest, I’m glad I handed the case over to Flowers. It was the right call. If I was running this case, I wouldn’t give a damn who killed that old woman. As far as I’m concerned, she deserved worse than she got.”
With that, Bennett tromps off to the men’s locker room.
And I’m left wondering whether or not I agree with him. When a bad person bites it … how hard should the police work to catch the killer?
Chapter 8
Flowers has none of Bennett’s qualms. He’s practically giddy over the amount of evidence we’ve hauled in against the Bloods, the troll gang he thinks was running the nap shack. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s in charge of this case. Or maybe he’s just dipped into all the drugs we’ve hauled into the evidence locker. Seriously, he smiled like three times during our exercises tonight. That never happens.
I ponder the possibilities as I label yet another bag of hair samples. "1,472." I use a black sharpie to write the sample number on an evidence bag. When half your drug addicts shift to animal form for their nap time, there are a shit ton of hairs. Every color of the rainbow. And I get to sort them. It's super fun. I’d be totally pissed if I wasn’t still riding on a high from my date with Luke. He’s already texted me twice. A heart and an eggplant. I picture his face again, my cheeks heating as I think about last morning. I put a sample in the wrong baggie and have to remove it. Dammit. I need to pay attention. Stupid eggplant emojis distracting me. I sigh.
"Wanna trade?" I ask Seena for the eighth time.
He doesn't even look up from the papers he's shuffling. Some second BFF he is.
Vic one, Louise Grant, was a granny drug dealer with a memory problem. So apparently, the sweet little old lady had notes stashed all around her nap shack. Little scribbles with inventory amounts, nicknames, shipment dates. Whoever let her into their drug ring did not vet her very well first. Or they prioritized her babysitting skills over her secrecy skills. Which stinks. Because that just means that everyone could want to have killed grandma. Her boss, her supplier, her customers.
There was literally so much stuff in that nap shack that Flowers ended up calling out a daytime crew after the wizards and I left. That’s where the stashed notes came from. The day team took apart the cribs and searched the papers lining the animal cages. Does it tell you something about how much repetitive tweezer strain I have that I’m begging Seena to switch so I can sort through that paperwork?
Even Becca and Petey, two other recruits (who were originally assigned to help with a warrant for a troll who charged with Criminal Accessory for stomping apart a crime scene), have been reassigned to our homicide case. They get to help with the evidence collection. So, four of us are squished basically knee-to-knee in a single cubicle as we work.
Seena might not mind constantly bumping elbows with Becca, seeing as he’s dating the cute little sprite, but Petey and I are seriously annoying each other.
“One more time and I swear, I’ll drain you, Fox! That was my damn funny bone,” Petey grumbles, flashing his vamp fangs at me.
“Didn’t seem to make you laugh,” I mutter as I stretch my fingers for th
e sixtieth time. “Besides, me bonking you has still gotta be better than that troll who tried to smash you.”
Becca’s eyes roll. “That dude wasn’t even that huge.”
“What was he covering up again?”
She shrugs. “Dunno. Looked like a pit when he was done. But a couple runes weren’t smashed. So maybe some kind of magic duel?”
I sigh. “I’ve always kind of wanted to see an underground duel.” My elbow accidentally smacks Petey in the ear as he bends forward.
He curses, “Fucking hell! Are you doing that on purpose? Flowers is right about how annoying—”
“Don’t even!” I cut him off. If he finishes that sentence, I might have to punch him in his freckled face. Seriously, bringing in Flowers? That’s like the lowest low-down insult you could make. Totally below the belt. I glare at Petey. I used to think he was okay. Now, I’m definitely doubting my previous eval. And I’m not apologizing for that last elbow. If he hadn’t bent—
Petey’s eyes glow a little red.
Becca tries to break up the tension. “Tell me again about your date with Luke.” She yanks on my arm, so I’ll face her.
The guys groan, but I smile. “Perfect. It was totally amazing. He’s so sweet.”
“And hexy,” Becca fans herself.
Seena clears his throat, “Excuse me?”
She blinks, pulling an innocent face. “What? He’s got magical appeal. That’s all. No one would ever beat you, Sugar Butt.” She winks.
Petey and I burst into laughter.
“Sugar butt, love it!” I repeat.
Seena humphs but turns back to his work. I think his cheeks might turn pink. Becca’s in for it later. But she doesn’t seem to mind. She tangles their ankles together and bends back over the slime samples she’s sorting.
Flowers appears at the cubicle opening and immediately I tense up. I already get to look forward to bleaching the evidence van in the morning, after all the others have gone home. What other torture is the F-bomb gonna give me? (That’s the nickname Luke came up with for him yesternight. Isn’t it great? I seriously have the best boyfriend in the entire universe.)
"I need some assistance questioning a suspect," Flowers says.
Every hand flies into the air like this is grade school, even mine, though I know there's no chance in hell Flowers is gonna take me if he thinks that this is gonna be important at all.
Flowers takes his time eyeing us. To my shock, he says, "Lyon, come on."
I stand with some difficulty and use Petey’s shoulders as a brace so that I can step over Seena and Becca's legs to reach the cubicle opening.
I'm not relieved that Flowers chose me. If anything, it makes me wish for the tweezers more. If Flowers chose me then whatever’s coming has got to be bad. What is it? Are we questioning the chickie pups? Or … shit, did that hippo I lost trample someone? Worst-case scenarios flood my mind.
I vacillate, trying to decide if speaking or allowing the awkward silence keep building would be worse.
Flowers finally breaks the silence. "So, what have you… discovered about reversing your power?"
Shit! He seriously expected me to research that last morning?
I try to stall. "Not much. You want a cup of coffee?" I stride over to Gloria, the well-named office coffeepot, and pour myself a cup from the carafe.
Flowers just narrows his eyes. "Did you even look?" He speaks through his teeth as if it’s painful for him. It might be, considering he's carefully selecting every single word he says to avoid his cursed letter.
I can't stop the guilty flush that reddens my cheeks. Damn blonde heritage.
Flowers stalks down the hall toward his office.
"I thought we were questioning a witness," I say as I scurry after him clutching my coffee.
"He can wait a couple minutes," Flowers states as he pushes open the door to his office and strides inside.
I follow tentatively, knowing a lecture's coming. My shoulder start to creep up toward my ears automatically in a defensive hag posture.
"Shut the door."
Shutting the door feels like I'm sealing myself into a tomb. My sense of self-preservation does not like it one bit. I tell her to shut her mouth as I turn to face Flowers.
To my shock, Flowers is calm as he sits on his bouncy ball behind his desk. He doesn't start cursing. Doesn't immediately threaten my life and the lives of my unborn children. He simply takes a huge stack of books and shoves them silently across the desk.
“Here."
"What is this?"
"Research. So you can correct this issue."
I sigh, but I come forward, set down my coffee and bend over the desk in order to grab a stack of books so I can go shove them in my locker.
Flowers stands as I bend over to pull the books toward me.
It's as I'm bent over Flower’s desk that Bennett walks in. He doesn't knock, just strides right in and stops dead at the sight of us.
I might have bent from the waist instead of the knees. My face might be near Flowers crotch level because double douche stood. And Flowers hands might possibly look like they’re on my boobs from Bennett’s angle behind me. Maybe. At least, I assume that’s what he thinks he sees when he says—
"What the hell?” Bennett stage whispers as he slams the door behind him. “What’s going on?”
Flowers steps back immediately, respectful and at attention. "Lyon and I were just splitting up the research about that issue she caused with my speech last night."
Bennett's eyes flick suspiciously between us.
I move aside and point at the stack of books on the desk. “Flowers was shoving these books over to me.”
“Oh,” Bennett looks sheepish. “Well, you have a suspect in room two, waiting on questioning.”
“Letting him stew a bit, sir,” Flowers replies. “Lyon is going to go in and assist.”
Bennett scrunches his brow. “I thought it was Becca’s turn in the rotation.”
“This guy has a -ae, a -airy … ” Flowers eyes shift to tiger briefly.
“A what? A hairy what?” Bennett asks.
“A girl-riend with wings,” Flowers hands turn into fists and he presses them into the desk. Probably to resist using those fists on my face.
Bennett looks at me, lost. “A hairy thing with wings? A Griffin? A genfin?” Bennett asks, clearly not understanding Flowers at all.
“GIRL-riend,” Flowers repeats. Whatever I did to him, his lips won’t even form the ‘f’ sound at all.
“Girl rent? He rents from a girl? Rents girls? He’s into prostitution? Fuck. Write it down man. I have no clue.”
But Flowers can’t write it down because he’s so pissed, his hands have shifted into tiger paws.
I close my eyes and clench my teeth as I translate for Flowers. “He means fairy girlfriend. This suspect has a fairy girlfriend. He wants me in the room to try and soften the guy up.” My eyes apologize to Flowers but he simply points a paw at the stack of books. I nod. FML and my powers.
Bennett purses his lips like he doesn’t like the idea of me softening anyone up. Hey, I don’t really either, especially considering the guy we’re about to question is probably one of the addicts from the nap shack last night. Given the state of the shack, I’m sure this guy’s hygiene level is questionable at best. I hope it isn’t the chickie pup. Because, seriously, if he asked me out and had a girlfriend, we will be having words.
“Alright. Just make sure Becca gets the next one,” Bennett says.
Flowers gives a brisk nod. “Yes, sir.”
Bennett strides out, deliberately leaving Flower’s office door wide open. He makes eye contact with Flowers that is almost dad-like. As in ‘keep this door open young man.’
I fight an eye roll. Not an issue. Unless he worries Flowers will kill me. Then—very much an issue.
“Who are we going to question?” I ask as I heft the stack of books into my arms.
“Remember that little shit lizard bear that lost his t
ail?”
"Him?"
Flowers nods. "Seena saw him on the list o- people who owe money to Louise Grant about an hour ago. He’s about two thousand gold in the hole."
"Got it. Am I playing good cop?"
Flowers rolls his eyes. “Obviously. Put those books away, grab the guy a co—ee… a drink, and meet me in two. And don’t -uck this up." Flowers shakes out his paws and they transform back to human. He stands and walks out of the room without offering to help me carry the fifty pounds of books he loaded me down with, like the troll fart he is.
I decide I’m going to start making all my curse words tiger-related. Because I can’t think of anything worse than that tiger. So, when I load the books into my locker and one hits my foot, what do I say? “Striped shifters—that hurt!”
When I limp into questioning after pulling every muscle in my back, I stop short. The lizard bear’s human form is not at all what I expect. His look screams nerdy accountant. He's got thinning hair on top, thick glasses, he's slightly on the chubby side. His arms are covered in thick black hair that I’m sure he wishes were on his head on a daily basis. (I’m telling you, that arm hair is so thick, it’d make a seriously nice toupee.) He doesn't look capable of murder to me. At least not for two large. But I have a role to play, so I slide into my chair with a smile. I push a steaming cup of joe toward him.
Lizard bear smiles and takes the coffee gratefully. I finally learn his name when Flowers says, "Mr. Geraldo Lilypunt, thanks -or coming down to talk to us. I'm hoping we can come to a mutually beneshicial arrangement."
I press my lips together. Flowers totally just gave himself a lisp so he could get that word out. Is the recorder on in here? Oh God, I hope so. I need to replay that endlessly for Seena and JR. Endlessly.
Mr. Lilypunt gives a brief nod, but Flowers says, “I need you to verbally agree, sir.”
“Yes,” Lilypunt hisses and I can hear a bit of lizard in his voice. It has a hissy, breathy quality.
“So, tell us about last night,” Flowers crosses his arms and leans against the wall. He lets the silence stretch.
Lilypunt’s fingers dance nervously over the sides of the coffee cup. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. Last night was crazy. Okay?”
