by Tina Gower
She pushed some loose tendrils of hair back into her bun, exposing her forehead more. “I marked it as an alert, not a consult. See?” She motioned to the file. “Red folder. Not a consult.”
He frowned at the red folder. Gods, Predictions and their rainbow filing system.
She sighed and explained the case anyway. “The accidental death could be related to a crime. He’s not a television sales man, so it’s a little suspicious. How many people stockpile that many televisions?” She flattened her lips and covered her face for a second, letting out a frustrated grunt. She gathered herself, standing up straight. “Look, I thought you’d just pass that one along to Petty Crime.”
He took a minute to actually read the thing. He probably should have prepared a little more for his excuse to talk to her.
She was right. It did look suspicious. “We should check this one out. I can get a search warrant, we can head over to his residence—”
“What? We can’t work this case.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not our department.”
He dug into the file and pulled out the prediction sheets. “It came through Accidental Predictions. We have a right to follow up before we assume it’s something the guys in crime will want.”
“No. That didn’t work well the last time.”
“Kate—”
“Stop. Stop charming me.”
“Charming?”
“Yeah, where you say my name all deep and give me that destroyed look. Like I’m taking away your favorite chew toy.”
In a way, she was—she was taking away his time with her.
She paced. Rather, since she didn't have enough room, it was more like she bounced from one foot to the other. “And we shouldn’t be working together.”
“I’m your department liaison, so we’ll work another case together eventually. Why can’t it be this one?” He held up the file like a shield between them. “Go to lunch with me and we can discuss things. Even if I take it to Petty, I need to know what to say to make it sound legit. I want them to pay attention.”
“I wrote down all the suspicious details.” She motioned for him to hand it over and flipped it open, pointing at a hand-written list. “There, I’ve practically gift-wrapped it for you. You’ll get to ride out in a blaze of glory. Go. Go be the hero.” She shooed him off, closing the file and sliding it back to him.
He smacked it down with one hand, holding the file down on her desk. “Then ride with me over there. You should get credit for this.”
“I don’t want credit.” Her lips twitched, she looked down.
“You do. You need this as much as I do.” Not really. He’d been clapped on the back for catching Liza, with Jack’s accident merely collateral damage to Investigations. Kate, however, had been placed on probation. He’d found out through Yang yesterday. Why she'd kept it from him he didn’t know. Then again, they only slept together—they didn’t talk.
“Yang told you. She said she told you. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to think it was your fault. It’s just how Predictions works.”
“It works like bullshit. Help me shove their policies and procedures up their ass by working this case with me. This time we have an in because it came through your department first. You’re an investigative actuary; it’s your job to poke around when predictions come in that don’t add up.”
“I did investigate it.”
“From your desk?” He eyed her. Her shoulders dropped and she kept glancing away to the office, to her coworkers, as if she were paranoid they’d walk in at any second. He lowered his voice. “Are you afraid they’ll figure us out?”
“You can’t show me any special treatment. It would be unprofessional. Exactly the sort of thing they’ll pounce on if we’re caught.”
“Caught what? Caught helping each other be the best team possible? Isn’t that the reason you gave me for doing this?”
She winced. “It’s not the full story.”
He inched forward. “I’m not going to let you miss opportunities because you’re helping me.”
She shook her head. “Don’t think of it like that. We're helping each other.”
They weren’t. She was obviously taking a hit for deciding to be his pack. He lifted the file and held it behind his back. “Really? You're okay with this?”
He’d meant his taking credit for the case, but her stance softened and she pushed her jaw out, taking in soft breaths. She’d decided to take it to mean the whole arrangement. He could tell by her slow blinks as she stared at her fingers playing with her buttons. “It’s weird. I don’t know how we’re supposed to function as a team now.”
“The same as before.”
“But it’s not the same.”
He let out a breath. She was right; he wasn’t going to try to insult her by denying it. “I’ll take this case, but I’ll credit you. I’m not going to take it otherwise.”
“You can’t.”
“Don’t do this.” He clamped down hard, his teeth grinding. “I won’t let you do this to your career. You’re more talented than this.” He gestured to the desk.
She’d be practically chaining herself to her desk for the rest of her career, even though she’d never be happy as a desk jockey, quietly pushing papers around. Her pencil as her sword. She came alive out on the street, getting into a case and breaking it open in real time.
“You should go. It doesn’t look good having you in here for too long.”
“I’m in Mile’s office all the time. And I talk with Gretchen for an hour each week. Why can’t I talk to you?”
“We’ll talk tonight. Come over early and—”
“I have to work.”
“Then stay after you, you know…” She shook her head and dug her palms into her eye sockets. “I mean don’t. That sounds so horrible, like the morning after. I…just. We’ll figure it out, okay? We can talk later.” She lowered her voice as it cracked with anxiety. “Not here. Let’s not talk here.”
He nodded, not wanting to cause her more suffering. “Fine.” Then he backed out of her office and headed for the door, wondering how he'd managed to fuck that up so badly.
He’d been boxed in every time he'd tried to help her. He could pass this file off to Lipski. He would like the freebee, but it might make him suspicious to see Kate Hale’s name on the case. He knew she was the actuary from the Hamilton oracle case, and he'd wonder why Ian didn’t want the credit. He should hand it to someone else who might do him a favor in return later. That would be smarter.
He chewed on what to do for the rest of the day until his shift. He ended up driving by the house in the file several times through the evening, and at the end of his shift he parked his police cruiser a few blocks away and sniffed the area. There was a familiar scent, but one he couldn’t place, and the T.V. guy wasn’t home, despite it being nearly midnight. He checked the calendar on his phone—oh right, it was a Friday. Most people went out on the weekends, as he knew all too well from the higher-than-average number of trips to the drunk tank and noise violation calls.
He circled the house a few more times and made note to get a warrant. As much as he wanted to sneak in and poke around, he had to do this one official—for Kate. He’d find a way to credit her in some way that wouldn’t call attention to their secret pack relationship. Plus, gathering more information would mean a quicker, cleaner take-down. Everything needed to be cut and dry, no questions. He could do that for Kate.
All these Kate thoughts reminded him that she was expecting him. He did the car swap and changed out of his uniform in record time. Did the usual avoid all eye contact and anyone who was overly chatty and headed straight for her place. Inspected the area around her apartment: nothing out of place. He avoided the stairs and went for the tree at her bedroom window, just barely stopping himself from stepping on a basket at the base of the trunk.
It had his name on it. Sort of. It said “BECKER” in all caps on a card tied to the handle. He snatched it off and ripp
ed it open.
Please enjoy this little treat
Sans magic, sans meat.
~Ali Hale
The basket was full of some sort of walnut oat cookies, each individually wrapped. He sniffed them. No magic. No poison. He unwrapped one and took a bite. Waited.
Okay, so he didn’t understand why she’d leave it here. Maybe just to confirm he’d been coming to Kate's window at night. Maybe to let him in on the fact that she knew. She hadn’t warded it, either—there was no hint of magic on the basket, just her usual scent so he’d know it came from her and no one else.
Whatever. He wasn’t going to let her intimidate him. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a pen, crossed off his name from the front of the envelope and scrawled “Ali,” making sure to copy her name exactly from her signature. He’d have to remember to use it instead of ‘witch.’ She managed to call him Becker every so often between calling him ‘wolf,’ so he supposed he could return the favor.
He tapped the pen to his lips a few times. Should he make some smart ass quip like the cookies were dry or walnuts give me hives? She’d probably expect that. And it wouldn’t be true.
Thank you, he wrote instead. He pocketed the remainder of the cookies, left the card in the basket and climbed the tree to Kate’s window. He’d gotten good at it, managing to shave off a full minute from his usual time.
The window was open a crack and he sighed with relief. He'd almost expected it to be locked after their almost argument. He leaned forward and smelled the faint hint of magic. Oat and honey, just like the cookies, and it didn’t do anything to his sinuses. He didn’t get a single reaction.
He passed his hand through with no ill effects, and with no screaming witch falling from the sky above him. No attack of any kind. He waited a few more minutes to be sure, keeping an eye on his surroundings. A glance at the basket showed that it had turned over from the breeze, probably due to not having cookies weigh it down.
He climbed to the ground again and righted it, filling it with rocks to be sure it wouldn’t blow away with his message inside. Then he circled the building again: wards still in place on the front door as usual. He went around to the back of the building and back up the tree, sniffing again. If Ali were down there somewhere doing her magic no-sound routine she was probably getting a kick out of his behavior. But he couldn’t smell her. He concentrated hard on her window right next to Kate’s, which was also open a crack. He could hear the heavy breath of sleep inside, so she hadn’t set this up as some elaborate hoax for her entertainment.
A wolf trusting a witch. Stranger things have happened. He hefted himself through the window. His arms and legs got heavier with each step. He was going to crash and the aching relief soothed him like a warm massage.
It felt even better when his knees hit the bed and his body folded and curled to climb into his side. Gods, they had sides. She’d kicked off the covers, so he brought up the thinner sheet as a polite barrier, leaving the thicker top sheet twisted in her feet. He gripped the sheet in his fist and pulled it around her along with his arm and lay his body snug against hers. His nose pressed into her t-shirt, taking in her smell, like she was some kind of aromatherapy.
Kate flipped to her back, kicking down her foot to pull the sheet down to her waist. Her face turned to his. Their foreheads pressed together. So close they were breathing the same air. Ian bit his lip, knowing he should move away, give her space, but the veil of sleep pulled on his eyes and he shut them, promising he’d do the right thing and pull away. He just needed a few more seconds. Or minutes. Or days.
The whine of metal against metal woke him. Disorientated, groggy, and batting at a web over his face—which turned out to be a sheet—he jerked away from Kate. She didn’t stir. One hand covered her heart, and the other clutched his shirt. He eased from her hold and slid off the bed, checking his phone. A little after four A.M. His body often woke him around that time, convincing him some horror was going on. Usually just a dream he’d dragged into waking, before he realized it wasn’t real.
Except there was the squeak. Again. Footsteps on the stairs. Might be Kate’s cousin headed out early to bake at the cafe where she worked. He often heard her as she walked past Kate’s apartment window on her way to jog down the stairs. It didn’t matter if it was three in the morning or noon, that witch always seemed to have enough energy to bounce her way to her car. Definitely the work of magic. Probably illegal, too.
But these footsteps were slow, methodical. They’d move a few steps up and then back down again.
Ian frowned and checked Kate. She was still out. He set his pillow where he usually slept, tucking it close to her. Then laughed at himself. She wasn’t a wolf, so she didn’t need to keep his smell nearby to ease her if she woke up afraid and he wasn’t close to soothe her. She also wouldn’t need to be held or stroked, yet she'd figured out fast that he did. Her arm hooked his as he tugged himself away. Half asleep, she brought him close and her fingernails lightly scratched the back of his forearm and wrist. The sensation cut the edge off his immediate need to chase down her neighbors.
He rubbed her hand and placed it on the pillow, relaxing when she gripped the pillow instead of him and pulled it into her chest.
Crouching low, he eased out of her bedroom and glanced at the bank of windows which exposed Kate's living room to the outside. All the blinds were shut. Good. He snuck past, then waited by her door and listened. There was someone out there. Their shadow cut through the blinds and scattered in slats along her couch. Too tall to be Kate’s cousin, and the scent was all wrong. And it breathed as if it were synched with a team. Ian listened for a second just to confirm the guy actually was breathing that precise. Weird.
He kept low and watched the shadow of the figure for a moment. Watched as it leaned forward and cupped its hands over the glass and peered inside.
That’s it. Ian flew back into Kate’s room and glanced at her to be sure she was still safely tucked inside. He shoved his shoes on, and by the time he ran to the window again the perp was already down the stairs. He’d have to cut the guy off from the backway. He crawled out the window, shimmied down the tree, and tore around the corner of the building.
Ali came running down the stairs as he approached, her hair half-done, in a loosely-buttoned shirt and pajama bottoms, her apron flung over her neck.
“Hey!” she called out, her slippers grinding against the pavement. She brushed past Ian. “That way. Go!”
He could see the bristle and scattering of leaves through a hedge and he ran.
The scent changed. Morphed and dissipated. What the…? He circled around the building. No trace of the man.
He sped back to the staircase.
Ali stood at the top, hands on her hips. “What are you doing? Why didn't you go after him?”
“His scent is gone. What the hells kind of magic are you pulling?”
“Me?” Her eyes go wide.
“You covered your sound, now this.”
“That was not me. And I sure as hells wouldn’t help some peeping creep.” She took a step back and glared. “I was getting ready for work when I felt a tug on the wards.”
“They don’t work anymore.” He shook his head violently, his fingers curling into claws. It was taking all of his restraint to keep himself from hooking them into her.
“They don’t work on you anymore. I lowered them for you. You’re welcome, big bad wolf.”
“Becker,” he growled out the correction.
“Big Bad Becker?”
“No. Stop calling me wolf. It’s demeaning.” Well, when she said it, anyway.
She snorted. “Whatever. That doesn’t excuse the fact you let some asshole peep into Kate’s apartment and then get away. What’s the point of you being around if you’re not protecting her?”
“I was asleep.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Asleep? In Kate's apartment?”
He bit off a curse. “Don’t say anything. Don’t. Say. A. Single. Word. A
bout. It.”
She pressed her lips together and blew out a long breath from her nose. Wait for it…
“It’s just—”
“Didn’t I say to keep quiet?”
“You said not to talk about the fact you’re sleeping with my cousin.”
“You just—”
“Zip it, wolf. Becker Wolf. I don’t really care about all that much except where my family is concerned. I have a dad who couldn’t bother to come home after my mom got sick and a mom in a mental hospital. Kate and her brothers are all I have. You think I want to see Kate, my only family in town, in some kind of danger?”
He crossed his arms, listening.
“Is she in danger from you?” she asked.
He didn’t answer, because he didn’t really know. He was still stuck in fight mode; his brain couldn't catch up to his body. So he stood there with his mouth hanging open and his forehead crinkled in question.
She nodded. “Well, good. I’m satisfied.”
“But I didn’t say anything.”
“Oh please. You of all people should know you don’t need to talk to communicate. Get your butt back inside. I’ll reset the wards.”
“No.”
Her eyebrows raised. “I have to reset them for it to work next time.”
“Reset them. I’m not going back inside. Check on Kate for me.” He walked away.
“You’re leaving her alone? After this?”
“I didn’t say that. I’ll be close. I—” can’t. He’d fucked up. Ali knew the secret he’d promised Kate he’d keep. And how did he know that his presence hadn't triggered this whole incident? Liza had made it clear she hadn’t given up on exacting what she thought was justice.
“I won’t say anything, okay?” Ali followed him down the stairs. “I already figured.”
He stopped, tensing up. Her picking up on his weakness—it was too revealing. Maybe it would be better for Kate if he told Ali it was strictly for pack. He wondered how much to explain.
Ali kept on rambling. “You’re both adults. Use protection. Don’t mark her. Don’t do the werewolf stuff. Just sex, okay? Unless you tell her about the commitment. She won’t be okay with it.”
