by Mia Taylor
“Let’s find a way to run this guy’s prints too. Something tells me he’s got a rap sheet. John Smith, my ass.”
They both agreed, and Ash smiled serenely.
He had nothing to worry about; he didn’t have fingerprints at all anymore.
Chapter Two
A Step Down
Staring out the window of the office, Serafina was reminded of her last work environment in New York City during the days of the Duvall trial. Somehow, everything reminded her of the days she’d worked for Chatham, Crowe and Fiend, under the watchful eye of Samuel Crowe.
Once upon a time, it had a been a dream job, but as Ryker Duvall’s scandal had unfolded upon the firm, Sera had been eager to get out of the city and as far away from that mess as possible. In her mind, Ryker Duvall had put unnecessary scrutiny not only on the company, but on shifters too. The last thing the paralegal had needed was extra eyes watching her.
As she continued to study the stormy morning, Sera wondered which was more depressing: the sodden mess on Grand River Avenue or the overcrowded, undusted, dark hellhole in which she worked.
It seemed to her that it didn’t matter which direction she looked—they all made her want to vomit.
God, I hate this city. I hate this job. I hate my life, Sera thought miserably as she reluctantly turned back toward the too bright workspace, the fluorescent lighting causing her head to pound. It defied reason in this day and age that such lighting should still exist.
This is definitely not my safe space, she thought bitterly, wondering for the umpteenth time if she should pack it up and move again.
Every day she asked herself why she had stayed in Michigan, where the winters were deadly and the summers smelled like pork rinds.
I belong somewhere warm and friendly, not in a city where I drive through an entire neighborhood of burned-down houses to get to work on a bus which reeks of cat spray.
“Sera! What are you doing?” Jacob appeared at the doorway and she started although she didn’t know why; he was notorious for his unexpected appearances. He wasn’t a shifter but he should have been with his stealthy arrivals.
“Trying to find my will to live,” she muttered, but the senior—and only—partner of the firm stalked inside, his pudgy body popping out of his tweed suit. It seemed impossible to Sera that the buttons had not exploded at his chest and into her morning coffee by now.
Do they even make tweed anymore? she wondered dully, but it was just another question that she asked every single day. Jacob wore the damned outfit at least three times a week while the other two were reserved for a dress pant and Hawaiian shirt ensemble. Both outfit choices made Sera cringe.
She reasoned that Barry had just as much fashion sense and she was beginning to question her own sanity working with the two lawyers.
Just because you’re the shittiest lawyer in America doesn’t mean you have to dress like the shittiest lawyer in America, she thought hatefully. The problem was, Sera wasn’t even sure she hated Jacob. She simply detested everything about the way her life was going at the present. Was it really his fault that she had resigned herself to such a fate?
“You have to get to Henry Ford Hospital right away!” the lawyer ordered, and his announcement was interrupted with a fit of hacking coughs.
Sera waited impatiently for him to finish his thought, already not liking the sound of her impending task. When he finally stopped choking, he flashed her a nicotine-stained smile.
“There’s a hit and run, a slip and fall, and a dog bite in emergency right now!” he declared, pulling a pack of Marlboros from his breast pocket and lighting one up. She considered reminding him that smoking had been banned from all workplaces for at least ten years, but she thought better of it. It wasn’t like wasting her breath was going to save any of his.
Sera eyed him dubiously, wrinkling her nose as the cigarette smoke wafted into her sensitive nose and caused her eyes to water. Being a shifter only enhanced her senses, particularly that of smell.
“Have you been listening to the police scanner again?” she asked with disgust. “The cops already warned you about that last time. They’re going to arrest you.”
“Of course not!” Jacob cried, seeming hurt that she would suggest such a thing. She stared at him pointedly.
“No?” she demanded. “You just happen to know about all these potential clients in the ER how exactly?”
The middle-aged attorney looked down at his hands and shrugged nonchalantly.
“I paid off one of the interns to let me know,” he conceded, and Sera groaned aloud. She wasn’t sure if she was more annoyed at what he was doing or that he hadn’t given her a raise since she started working for him.
Sure, he’s got money for shit like that, she thought furiously.
“JACOB!” she groaned. “What the hell? That’s just as bad as listening to the scanner and it’s a breach of medical ethics.”
She wondered why she had to spell this out to her boss. He was supposed to be an attorney, after all.
The matter was not an ethical issue to Sera—it was one of survival.
If Jacob lost his license to practice law, she would be without a job, and if there was something Sera could not stomach, it was the thought of being homeless.
Again.
Before fighting her way through school, she’d lived in places that she would have sooner forgotten—if only there was something like brain bleach out there.
Why did I ever start working here? she bemoaned silently. Why did I pick Detroit? Of all the places in the world to move…
The answer was relatively simple; she hadn’t come with references from Chatham, Crowe and Fiend, her abrupt departure hardly leaving a good taste in anyone’s mouth in New York. Her dream was to attend law school herself, but her grades had never been better than mediocre. Her only choice was to settle for any job she could find.
Only Jacob Winston had been willing to take a chance on her and Sera would be a fool to believe it was for any other reason than he wanted to get in her pants.
Luckily for Jacob, Sera was a lot harder working than her transcripts at New York Community College seemed to suggest.
Her hope was that she would be on a bus heading out of the wretched city, but so far, she’d barely been able to pinch together two pennies toward that goal.
Instead, she was working for an ambulance chaser, plotting her own death as Jacob stared at her with beady, blue eyes.
“Why are you just standing there?” he demanded. “You have to get going before someone else hears about them! You can’t think I’m the only lawyer in the city who does that, Sera. Don’t be naïve.”
Sera gritted her teeth and reached for her jacket which was hanging off the back of her chair.
“I’ll be out all day,” she informed him although she wasn’t sure why she bothered to mention it. She was basically free to come and go as she pleased, provided she brought back the clients he craved.
“I don’t care,” Jacob replied flippantly as she had known he would. “Just bring me back at least one of the three.”
Sera knew her track record was better than that, but she made no comment as she shrugged past him and headed toward the dingy hallway.
She was grateful to be leaving the headache-inducing atmosphere, even though it was raining, and she was going to be taking a bus to the hospital.
As she headed toward the elevator, Barry called out to her, running to her side like the eager dog he seemed to be.
“Hey, Sera!” he breathed, joining her as she jabbed almost violently at the down button. She could have easily taken the stairs down the three flights, but it was one of those days when she insisted on self-preservation. She knew she was going to need all the energy she could muster.
“What do you want, Barry?” she demanded, eyeing the intern with annoyance.
“I just wanted to tell you I’m ordering pizza for the office today. My treat. What can I get on yours?”
Ordering for the offic
e? she thought, shaking her head and rolling her green eyes. The three of them made the office. Barry made it sound like he was planning a mass event.
Looks like you and Jacob have a date today, she thought cruelly, knowing that Barry was half in love with her. Her beauty was both a curse and a blessing, although most days, Sera was sure it was more the former than the latter.
“Nothing,” she replied flatly as the light flashed to announce the elevator’s arrival. “I’m gone for the day.”
Stepping into the elevator, she noted the look of near devastation on his face and she wondered why he tried so hard.
Can’t you see that we work in a shithole and that our boss is useless? she wanted to scream at him, but of course she said nothing of the sort. There was no point—nothing ever changed, even when it did.
Instead of speaking, Sera continued to stare coldly at him until he balked and stepped back, blinking back tears of humiliation.
Am I a sadist?
The idea filled her with a spark of pleasure.
Yep. I am a sadist.
Stepping into the wet air, she made her way to the bus stop, digging for her pass and mentally rifling through the Rolodex of side boys she had stored in her phone.
The current lot was growing tiresome but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t settle eventually. It was better to be with someone than no one at all.
They can’t be side boys if there’s no main course, Sera reminded herself dully, putting her phone down and grimacing out into the rain.
Work came first.
Without a paycheck, she couldn’t make her way to Florida where she had been dreaming of going since she could remember her dreams.
To her surprise, the bus rolled up a minute later and Sera was taken aback by her luck.
Under normal circumstances, she would find herself waiting in inclement weather for half an hour, before boarding an overcrowded vehicle.
Inevitably, the others would be unwashed and full of spite, but that morning, there was almost no one on the bus.
The bus driver smiled at her and Sera gaped.
She was sure she had never seen a driver grin at her in her entire life.
Am I in the Twilight Zone? she asked herself, wandering toward the back. She could not shake the sense that something terrible was about to happen.
It made no difference that it was a Monday morning; the emergency room at Henry Ford was overflowing, people in various throes of pain or discomfort.
Despite the mishmash of human misery before her, it was not hard for Sera to spot the people whom she sought.
The slip and fall was moaning loudly, the hit and run rubbing his neck, and the small child who had been bitten had a loud-mouthed mother demanding justice from a police officer.
Sera examined the situation, wondering which one would be the most money.
Dog bite makes the most sympathetic victim, she decided. But the hit and run has insurance companies behind it… unless the slip and fall was on city property.
It was clear to see that none of the afflicted were suffering life-threatening injuries. Everyone was conscious and coherent.
That’s a shame. Jacob will be disappointed. He’s going to have to do some work for these ones to make any money.
Sera was sure that the car accident and fall were both milking the attention for a payout anyway. The little girl bit by the dog was already stitched and bandaged, but that did not stop her mother from screaming bloody murder as the five-year-old sat appearing dazed.
For a moment, Sera wished she had thought to bring Barry along with her. At least they could divide and conquer in that case.
But then I would have to share credit with that sniveling brat. No, I can do this, she decided. I will start with the—
Her thoughts faded as her mossy eyes rested on a stoic figure perched on a stretcher in the middle of the action, his grey eyes gazing serenely about as if he was trying to figure out where he was.
And what do we have here? Brain injury? she wondered with interest, noting the gauze on his face. How did that happen? Police brutality maybe?
On closer inspection, she realized that he didn’t have any visible blood or swelling on him and her heart skipped as she recognized the wolf in him.
But there was something different about him, something elusive that Sera couldn’t pinpoint.
Even so, it was clear he was remarkably handsome, his sooty eyes seeming to hold the wisdom of the world in their depths.
His hair was black as if it had been dunked into a blotter of Indian ink and left to dry, glistening against the ugly lights of the hospital.
Although he was sitting, she could tell he was tall and lean but there was something beyond that which intrigued her, something mysterious and dark.
Sera had not realized that she had stepped toward him, examining his face for telltale signs of trauma, but she could see nothing but an almost eerie peace radiating from him.
Slowly, his eyes rested on her and Sera felt her heart stop.
Their stares met, and she inexplicably could not form words either with her mouth or in her mind as if the man had wiped her thoughts and motor skill with a single look.
Then his eyes moved past her and Sera found herself turning to look over her own shoulder.
Just behind her stood two uniformed cops, casting the man suspicious looks as they chatted with an abused-looking doctor.
Sera casually moved toward them, honing her ears to hear what was being said.
“…I can’t discuss his condition with you!” the resident snapped. “You know the rules as well as I do, Officer Sanders. Now if you’ll stop wasting my time, I have a full ER in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Wait!” Sanders yelled after her retreating back. “How long before he’s being released?”
“We are waiting for his CT scans to come back. I would like to keep him here overnight to be sure,” she called back. “You can come back tomorrow and speak with him. If I see you in here before that, officer, I will have you escorted from the hospital.”
The doctor didn’t wait for an answer as she disappeared among the maze of patients.
The cops exchanged a look and Sera watched as they ensured the resident was not coming back before turning toward the man.
“Mr. Smith,” the one called Sanders said as he neared. “I have a couple questions for you.”
Sera shook her auburn waves and grimaced at the blatant disobedience.
Typical cops, she thought, watching for a moment to see how the patient handled the scenario.
“I have already told you everything I can,” he replied, and Sera was stunned at the mellifluous quality of his voice. He didn’t sound like he belonged to that era and it sent shivers through her.
Licking her lips, she drew nearer, and he looked up at her, causing her pulse to race again as their eyes locked.
“I don’t think you’ve told me everything,” Sanders growled. “I think you had some drug deal gone wrong by the river and that’s why we’re here. Is that what happened?”
The man they called Smith shook his head.
“No,” he answered simply, and Sera could read the frustration on the policemen’s faces.
“If you tell us now before we find out the truth for ourselves, it will make it much easier on you,” the nameless cop offered. “We’re giving you a way to save yourself.”
“I fear I can offer you nothing else,” he told them and even Sera believed him. There wasn’t a note of guile in his tone.
And I’ve been around enough liars to know one.
“You’re only making things worse for yourself—” Saunders started to say but Serafina took the opportunity to seize control of the situation.
“Excuse me,” Sera interrupted, stepping up toward the law enforcement officers. They turned to look at her.
“Yes?” Sanders asked, seeming annoyed by the interruption. He scowled at her angrily. “What is it, miss?”
“Didn’t I just hear the d
octor tell you that this man is off limits today?” she asked innocently.
Sanders’ face grew crimson.
“Lady, mind your own business!” he snapped. “This doesn’t concern you!”
“I would say that my boss would beg to differ,” Sera replied easily, digging one of Jacob’s cards from her purse and thrusting it at the cop. “Serafina Kennedy, agent for Jacob Winston.”
The men looked down at the card, angry frowns forming on their faces in unison.
“Goddamn shysters,” the nameless cop snapped. “How did Winston even know he was here?”
“What is your name and badge number, officer?” Sera asked, flipping open her notebook. “I want to make sure I have it down properly for the lawsuit.”
He gaped.
“Come on, Lopez,” Sanders muttered. “Let’s go. You know how these vultures can be. They’ll do anything to stop us from protecting the public.”
Sera laughed and shook her waves, bemused. The truth was, she liked cops but she didn’t appreciate anyone overstepping their bounds. It went against her sense of justice.
Sanders glared balefully at Sera.
“We’ll be back tomorrow,” he assured her, and she shrugged. “I don’t care,” she replied, and she meant it. The cops did not intimidate her the way they had when she was sixteen and living off dumpster food.
She was a grown woman now and she wasn’t easily bullied.
“Come on, Lopez,” Sanders growled again and the partners reluctantly departed, but not without a backward glowering glance.
She watched as they skulked away before turning to the stranger, a feeling of both calm and excitement flowing through her.
She was hypnotized by his eyes and her breath quickened slightly as she went to speak.
“If they come back tomorrow, you should probably hire a real lawyer,” she told him, and he didn’t immediately answer, studying her face closely as if he was committing it to memory.
“Okay?” she asked, suddenly very self-conscious.
“I will not be here tomorrow,” he told her.
“No?” she asked but she wasn’t sure why she was so interested.
So what? What do I care? she asked herself. But she did care—very much.
