by Lyra Evans
He scrolled through it, scanning for vital information, Connor reading over his shoulder. The report was lengthy and full of inflated words so common in business literature. The bulk of the report indicated which Obscura companies were worth investing in, which were not, and whether or not Obscura was, itself, worth investing in. It was a quarterly report, but it painted a pretty vivid picture, Oliver felt.
Obscura itself was doing very well. Its stock price was up from last quarter, the overall revenue for the corporation having surpassed the quarterly projections. Most of that was due, it seemed, to the impressive sales of their pharmaceutical division. PeakPotions was the primary provider for potions, salves, drafts, and tonics for all the medical facilities in both Nimueh’s and Logan’s Courts. Oliver remembered the potions in Connor’s back room at Hunt, and the little PeakPotions symbol, a double ‘P’ turned into a mountain peak, was branded across them.
The success of PeakPotions was unsurprising, given how much they produced, but some of the other companies under the Obscura umbrella were a bit more surprising. There were clothing companies, furniture companies, and an entertainment company called AbraCan Music that seemed to be doing very good business as well.
“What does AbraCan do?” Oliver asked, curious about their numbers.
“They’re a music production company,” Connor said. “They’ve licensed a number of the artists Pierce Entertainment represents. Part of why our business partnership is so beneficial to them. Half of the popular music in your Court is made and owned by Werewolves.”
Oliver glanced at Connor, wondering at the tinge of defensiveness in his voice, then turned back to the numbers. Obscura’s finances seemed unbelievable, frankly. They suffered almost no loss whatsoever following the deaths of Eloise Carmichael’s parents. In fact, the major failing seemed to be with one specific company. ArcaShield.
“Daniel Brown’s company is hemorrhaging money,” Oliver said, scanning the information. “They’re so far in debt, it’s amazing Obscura is still pulling ahead of its numbers. The projections are even worse for the next quarter. This analyst seems to think that unless Obscura sells off ArcaShield, it’ll end up bankrupting them before the end of the year. That’s aggressive.”
Connor leaned in closer, studying the screen more intently and brushing Oliver’s cheek with his own. His hand came to rest gently on Oliver’s back. He rubbed gentle circles into Oliver’s skin with his thumb, and Oliver flushed. Thoughts about what they had just done, on this very desk, rushed over him.
“I’ve never seen a company crash this badly this quickly,” Connor said. “What do they do exactly?”
Oliver straightened as Connor did, turning to him. “They’re defense engineering. They make weapons and protective gear and enchantments. They provide some of the gear the NCPD use, actually.”
“Only some?”
Oliver nodded. “They’re defense products are reasonable quality,” he said. “They make the shields our Quick Response Team use for crowd control and riot gear. But their weapons are unreliable. They’re designed for power, not efficacy or endurance. So on testing they would sometimes fire, blowing away the target, but most of the time they failed spectacularly. Or else—” Connor cocked an eyebrow as Oliver hesitated “—they backfired. Rebounded on the caster.” Connor stared, and Oliver sighed, remembering Officer Loper’s funeral. “NCPD refused to contract with them after that.” He looked back at the numbers on the screen, not really seeing them. “Daniel Brown told me they were in the midst of a new R and D project.”
“And he didn’t mention ArcaShield was on the verge of insolvency?” Connor asked.
Oliver’s mind was racing. “No, he didn’t.” The Daniel Brown Oliver he had met only a day ago swam in his mind. A man falling to pieces, drunk and broken, crying into his glass, begging Oliver to get the person responsible for Eloise’s death—
No. He specifically asked for the son of a bitch responsible. Anti-Werewolf language, urging me to ignore politics and possibly start a war.
Suddenly the drinking and begging played out in a different light to Oliver. Daniel Brown had motive—if Eloise left him for Blake Murphy he’d lose his access to the Carmichael fortune, and if ArcaShield was failing, Eloise would be much less likely to keep it alive for her ex-boyfriend. But something nagged at Oliver.
“He has an alibi,” Oliver muttered to himself, frustrated. “The wards on the Carmichael Estate track people coming in and out of the grounds.”
“People?” Connor said suddenly, and Oliver looked up at him. There was a glint of excitement in Connor’s eyes. “Is that specifically what he said?”
Oliver thought back. “He said it tracks every person—why?”
Connor’s smile widened. “I have wards like that too. Got them from Obscura, actually. They have two kinds—one designed to track the entry and exits of Humanoids, and one that tracks everything—including animals.”
Oliver exhaled the breath he was holding, shaking his head. “It’s the Carmichael estate, of course they’ll have the more intensive set.” But Connor shook his head.
“I doubt it,” he said. “I had the animal one. It was a nightmare. When a Humanoid passes through the ward, it sets a small magical alarm off. It blinks once and chimes once, to alert anyone inside that someone else is there. Particularly useful for large homes with vast grounds. But the animal one—it chimed constantly. It even went off for birds passing overhead. It wouldn’t stop chiming. I had to get rid of it in order to sleep.”
Oliver stared at him, thinking back to the interview with Daniel Brown. There was no chiming, no alarm at all. It was possible that the Carmichael’s had managed to turn off the chiming, but that served little purpose. What was the point of an alarm if you turned it off?
His thoughts a jumble, Oliver tried to think through the possible connotations of that. But he kept coming up empty. How could Daniel Brown have been an animal? Could he have set an animal on Eloise? Did he have access to a large dog, or a trained wolf to sic on her? It just didn’t seem right. There was no trace of a dog at the mansion.
“Could a Werewolf have acted with Daniel Brown?” Oliver asked, and Connor’s face became stony.
“I’d have thought it was obvious by now,” he said. “No Wolf of Logan’s Court would ever do such a foolish thing. It is tantamount to Treason, and none of us has motive.” He was momentarily tense, then seemed to release it, sagging slightly. Oliver felt a twinge of guilt and shame. “And no Wolf would ally themselves with Daniel Brown, anyway. Forgetting the fact that he’s a Wizard, he’s also notoriously greedy. Wolves have a different set of values, gold not among them. Brown would have had nothing to offer.”
Oliver nodded along, thinking hard. “Then how could Brown have become an animal and attacked Eloise? It makes no sense.”
But Connor stilled, his eyes distant, staring beyond Oliver. Oli watched him in confusion a moment. Then, Connor turned abruptly and searched the bookshelves around them. Finding what he was looking for, he plucked a heavy bound leather volume from the top shelf, flipping through it. He dropped in on the table in front of Oliver, a look of victorious pleasure on his face.
“This is how,” he said. Oliver gave him a questioning look but gazed down at the page and perused the information. As he did, his mouth fell open.
“How do you have this book?” he asked, flipping the page looking for more detail.
“I have many interests,” he said, “and as I said, Wolves value gold very little. The book was expensive, but worth it. An old folk tale suggested this was the origin of Werewolves, that we were once Wizards who took too much of that,” he pointed at the page of the book, “and mated with real wolves. The children born of the union were neither Human nor Wolf, always living somewhere in between.” He shrugged. “Sounds like biased Wizard mythology to me, but it was fascinating nonetheless.”
Oliver surveyed the page. “This is a rare book then…”
“Yes,” Connor answered. “But the
re are other copies. One of them is in the Carmichael library. I know because when I was looking for this one, I tried to buy it from them first.”
Oliver’s face broke into a smile. “This is complicated—very complicated. But Obscura have the best potionmakers in the three Courts. They could manage it. Maybe they are.” And then Oliver remembered something Daniel Brown had said about ArcaShield’s exciting new research and development project. It would revolutionize tracking and undercover operations for the police. “Turning into an animal would definitely do that,” he said, more to himself than anything. “There’s no way this kind of thing wouldn’t sell…” Oliver had decided. There was no other way about it.
“Do you have a phone I can use?” he asked, and Connor nodded.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to call my Captain,” he said. “I think once I tell her Daniel Brown had access to the magic for a Transformation Potion, she’ll be more than willing to get me a warrant.”
Chapter 18
Oli was comfortable and warm. He moved his legs slowly, sliding them down the mattress and relishing the feel of the sheets on his skin. A satisfied soreness settled into him, his muscles tightening as he arched his back to stretch. He didn’t want to open his eyes yet, the residual slowness of sleep still heavy in him. Soft kisses pressed to his neck and chest, and Oliver hummed.
Finally cracking an eye open, he found Connor leaning over him, his mouth pulled up in his signature smirk, his gaze soft as the sheets. He pressed intermittent kisses to Oliver’s skin, as though asking silent permission before each one. Oliver watched him for a long while, almost sure it was a dream, then reached up and brushed the hair from Connor’s eyes.
Nope. Very real.
Connor turned his head, into Oliver’s palm, and caught Oli’s thumb in his mouth. He sucked gently on the pad of it, his lips parted around the edge of it, and Oliver felt a familiar trickle of desire in him. He longed to let it build, longed to let Connor suck and kiss a different part of him, but now he was awake, the reality of his case came slamming back.
“Morning,” Connor said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. They were in his bed, having made their way very slowly up from the basement office last night. There were several stops on the way—on the pool table, on the staircase, against the bedroom door, and finally back in Connor’s bed. Oliver hadn’t known he was capable of wanting someone this much, of renewing that want again and again. He was always so quickly done with his partners; but Connor wouldn’t let him go. Even now, his cock stirred at the gentle pecks of Connor’s lips on his fingers, at his weight on top of Oliver, at the knowledge that they were both naked in Connor’s bed.
And as the satisfied feeling passed into awareness of the work ahead of him, Oliver was also flushed with awareness of how little he knew Connor. True, he rarely knew any of his partners for longer than the length of a dance and a drink, but his willingness to stay with Connor, to kiss him and let him inside Oliver, in more ways than one, was somewhat terrifying.
Oliver hadn’t considered a relationship with anyone for years. Not since last his heart was broken, and that was brutal enough for him to never wish to revisit the feeling again. Then, his face was plastered in every newspaper for weeks after he caught the Thistledown Thrasher. He was used to advances from both Witches and Wizards, all of them wanting a piece of him, a piece of his fame. But Oliver wanted none of it—not the suitors, not the fame, not the glory. He wanted to be left alone.
Until now. Now, he wanted Connor, and the tightening in his chest at the thought made him uncomfortable. Connor was an Alpha in Logan’s Court—a kingdom separated them. And the impropriety of getting involved with a person of interest in an ongoing investigation was something Oliver was trying very hard not to think about. There was no way it would work.
Though his pack already think you’re his consort…
Oliver shut down the thought. It would come out, surely, that Oliver was a police officer the moment he made an arrest. Then the pack would know that Connor had lied, and—and what? Oliver didn’t actually know what that would mean for Connor.
“Not a morning person, are you?” Connor asked with a laugh, rising up to Oliver’s face. Oli opened his mouth to answer but was silenced by a lingering kiss. His hands went to Connor’s neck, fingers playing in Connor’s hair. He lost himself in the kiss for a moment, drowning in disbelief at how fantastic Connor still tasted, even first thing in the morning, but as the kiss broke, Oliver sighed. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been so disappointed after I kissed them,” Connor mused, one eyebrow raised. Oliver shot him a look, a flare of anger at the idea of other people kissing Connor. Connor laughed and kissed him again. “Just a joke.”
Oliver shook his head, a smile playing on his lips nonetheless. “It’s not the kiss,” he said after a moment, but before he could elaborate, he heard his phone ding. With a groan, Oliver sat up and reached over to pick up the phone on the table. He’d hooked into Connor’s network last night between rounds with Connor, on his Captain’s orders, so that he’d know right away when the warrant came in.
Captain Marks had not been pleased when he delivered his leads. She spent a full minute cursing a blue streak before agreeing that Daniel Brown was the most probable suspect as the High Warlock had an ironclad alibi. But a warrant was harder to procure than it seemed. Brown was not just the grieving boyfriend but had become a prominent public figure due to his relationship with Eloise. Finding a judge who would sign off on a warrant to search the residence of one of the oldest and most well-connected families in Nimueh’s Court was tricky business, particularly without alerting the High Warlock or anyone connected to him.
But the message on his phone told him Marks had somehow managed it.
GOT THE WARRANT. DON’T FUCK THIS UP. EVERYTHING BY THE BOOK.
Oli sighed again and dragged himself out of bed, looking for his pants.
“Oh, you won’t be needing any clothes for what I have in mind,” Connor said, lazing prone on the bed, his rapidly hardening cock on full display for Oli. Oliver fought back the groan at the sight of Connor, splayed for him, and shook his head.
“I—can’t,” he said, his throat tight, his heart beating faster. “Warrant just came in. I’ve got to get back to Nimueh’s Court and search the Carmichael Estate.” He spared another glance for Connor, licking his lips at the thought of Connor’s cock, then pulled on the pants he found folded by the nightstand. He tried not to think about how his clothing ended up there, neatly folded and stacked.
When he looked back up at Connor, pants now on, Oli found him looking crestfallen. As Oli tried to pull on his t-shirt, Connor slid out of bed and began to dress himself as well. His back turned to Oli, he stood straighter than usual, as though stiff.
“Well, sounds like your case is about to be wrapped up nicely,” he said in an almost professional tone. It felt like a jab to the gut for Oliver.
“Not really,” Oli said, fighting against the lump in his throat. “It’s been two days since the murder. Brown could have destroyed all the evidence by now. There could be nothing to find, which means that I could be about to destroy my career on a hunch that doesn’t pan out.” He tried to keep his tone light, casual, but didn’t quite manage.
Connor was almost fully clothed already, taking care to button his shirt slowly, his back still turned to Oli. Oliver watched him a moment, wondering if he had somehow imagined their closeness the night before—the connection, the warmth in his chest.
Or maybe the warmth was there, but just for me. He’s got people throwing themselves at him constantly, I’m sure I’m not his first fling.
Oliver tried not to think about how often some of his own partners might have felt the way he did just then, used and discarded. He’d been so sure Connor was interested in more. Hadn’t he been the one to wake Oliver with kisses?
“Don’t you have forensic spells for that?” Connor asked, his tone edged with something hard. Oliver sw
allowed. “Isn’t that what cops do? Force their way through, call up something from nothing, use whatever they can to close the case? I’m sure the NCPD’s dogs will sniff out some kind of evidence.”
The harshness of Connor’s words cut straight through Oliver, but in the moment before he snapped back, the moment before his anger sparked to flame, a thought occurred to him.
“You,” Oli said suddenly, and Connor finally turned, his expression wary and guarded. Oliver’s mind raced. “You can smell it. You smelled the crime scene conjured, right?”
“Yes,” Connor said slowly. “It was putrid—”
“Could you smell the magic?” he asked, and Connor froze. “Could you smell the magical signature? The potion used, or the DNA of the killer—”
“Yes,” Connor said abruptly. “I’ve told you, Werewolves can smell things Wizards think they’ve washed away days ago. It’s part of our magic. Why?”
Oliver’s face broke into a dark smile. “You’re going to need to come with me.”
Chapter 19
The crossing back through to Nimueh’s Court was made somewhat complicated by the addition of Connor. Oli was meant to come back the way he came, but with Connor in tow, it wasn’t quite as simple. He’d had to okay it with his Captain first, and after several minutes’ worth of arguing and vouching and swearing on the Treaty, she’d made the arrangements for Connor to cross into Nimueh’s Court and be a consultant on the case.
It was a risky move, including a Werewolf as a consultant on a murder most people believed was committed by a Werewolf. But Captain Marks had already outlined a possible press report about the need to ensure unbiased investigation and a cooperative spirit, to maintain the hard-won peace between the Courts. Connor had assured her himself that, as Logan’s kin, maintaining the Treaty was of utmost importance to him and his Alpha.
