She pulled into the parking garage, spent way too much time trying to find a parking spot, then headed for the elevator – but before she reached it, a familiar voice called her name.
“Angel!”
She turned and smiled despite her circumstances when she saw her boss headed her way.
“Director Bates. It’s good to see you.”
“I’m glad I caught you, Angel,” he said, leading her towards a section of the garage further from the elevators. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Dying of boredom,” she replied, “but otherwise fine. How about you?”
Angel had heard enough to know Bates wasn’t on probation and hadn’t lost his job, but the rest of the details weren’t publicly available. While he hadn’t been the one to perform the blood magic, he’d not only allowed it to happen and he’d acted as a donor. Scott, being a Warner with plenty of connections, had come out completely unscathed. She didn’t begrudge him that; he had the potential to be a great Agent and didn’t deserve to have his career tanked alongside Angel.
Bates absently waved his hand.
“I’ve been around long enough to collect a few favors, and I’m not usually one to rock the boat. I got a slap on the wrist and a stern look. I do wish I’d been able to do more to help your case, though.”
Angel just shrugged.
“They didn’t fire me outright. Or lock me up. Probation makes sense. I just wish it wasn’t dragging on so long, or that they’d give me more information about my test results. Being in the dark sucks.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t help much with that either. They keep that information locked up pretty tight. But I’m confident you’ll be back to work soon enough.”
“Thanks.”
“You should go,” Bates said, “before I make you late.”
She frowned but started heading back towards the elevator. They climbed in, and she hit the button for the third floor. When they reached her stop, Angel stepped out, giving Bates a little wave.
“Bye.”
“Good luck,” he replied as the elevator doors closed.
Angel turned and headed towards the front desk, where she was greeted by the usual dreary secretary and directed to sign the visitors log, then wait in the sitting area to the left. Flopping down into a well-worn armchair, Angel tried not to fidget. About ten minutes later, a woman entered the lobby, calling out Angel’s name.
“That’s me,” Angel replied, standing quickly.
“Come with me, please,” the older woman instructed.
Angel followed her down a familiar hallway and into one of the test rooms. Most of the time, these rooms were used to gauge the magical abilities of potential Agents. Angel wasn’t entirely sure how the tests worked, but basically they ran you through a series of spells, changing up the situation every now and then, and somehow they were able to get a good idea of your power level.
“Have a seat, Miss Myers,” she instructed. “You’ll receive instructions shortly, and then the test will begin.”
Angel frowned, annoyed that the woman had called her “Miss” instead of “Agent,” but before she could say anything, she was gone. The room contained a small table with a speaker box on it and a chair. The opposite wall showed Angel her reflection, but she knew from past experience it was a two-way mirror. Several witches sat behind the glass and conducted the test, delivering instructions through the speaker box. Various sensors and cameras placed throughout the room relayed various pieces of information to the witches behind the glass. The room was insulated against outside magic, which made the readings more accurate and prevented cheating.
“Are you ready, Agent Myers?” a male voice asked through the speaker box.
“Yes,” Angel replied.
“Then let us begin.”
Three hours later, Angel had completed the magical tests and moved on to the psychological evaluation part of her check-in. Doctor Weaver was an older witch, with more grey hairs than not, and for some reason he really got on Angel’s nerves. Every time she saw him, he would ask seemingly random questions, listen to her answer, and scribble notes down on his clipboard. This repeated ad nauseum until their time was up. Today wasn’t any different.
“Did you have any pets growing up?” Doctor Weaver asked.
“I had a goldfish when I was six,” Angel replied. “His name was Goldie, and he died when I overfed him. We flushed him down the toilet.”
Scribble, scribble, scribble.
“No other pets? A cat, or a dog maybe?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“My mother didn’t want them,” Angel explained, letting her frustration show.
“Is everything alright?” the doctor asked, pen poised above his clipboard.
“No,” Angel admitted, “everything is not alright. I want to get back to work. I’ve done the tests, I’ve proven I’m not performing any more blood rites, and I’ve jumped through all the damn hoops you people put in front of me. What else do I have to do before I can get back to my job?”
“Well,” the doctor began, and Angel knew she wasn’t going to like his answer, “you have certainly complied with all the requirements of your probation, and your test results don’t indicate any abnormal power fluctuations. Unfortunately, we’re just not quite ready to sign off on your return to the field.”
“Why not?” Angel demanded.
“We’re concerned the stress of the job might lead you astray,” Weaver explained.
“Lead me astray!?” Angel exclaimed. “You mean you’re worried I’ll use blood magic once I’m back on the job because it’s easier?”
“Correct.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Doctor, I’m not one to take the easy route. I worked hard for everything I’ve achieved, I earned it. I became an Agent because I want to help people, and you think I might start killing people?”
“That’s not what I said,” Weaver tried to explain, but Angel had heard enough.
“Are we done?”
“We do have another ten minutes,” Doctor Weaver told her.
“Do you have any more questions for me?”
“No, not at the moment.”
“Excellent. Goodbye.”
Grabbing her coat, Angel stormed from the room and down the hallway. She reached the lobby, where a witch waited with a clipboard.
“The Agency will inform you of any changes to your probation within three business days, Miss Myers,” she explained, then held up the clipboard. “Please sign here.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Angel muttered, quickly signing her name.
Stepping into the elevator, she resisted the urge to punch something, viciously stabbing the button for the parking garage. The elevator seemed to move at a crawl, and Angel was immensely grateful when it let her out at the parking level without stopping at any of the floors in-between. Climbing into her car, she flew out of the garage, heading towards home. She grumbled to herself the whole drive, upset and frustrated. She’d done everything right, played nice with the tests, and the doctor and all those stupid office witches who looked at her funny every time she walked in the door.
Pulling into her driveway, she jerked to a stop, turned off the car, and climbed out, slamming the door behind her.
“Stupid fucking doctor,” Angel muttered to herself, “thinks he know everything. Tell me this, Doctor - what the fuck does my having a goldfish instead of a cat have to do with me getting my damn job back? Huh? Tell me that!”
Deciding she needed a nice, relaxing shower, Angel stormed inside, dumped her purse on the ground, and headed for her bedroom. She kicked off her shoes, unbuckled her belt, and pushed her jeans down her legs. Her pants were around her ankles by the time she realized something was amiss. She turned back towards the living room, her mind taking a moment to process what she was seeing. Caleb, Ryan, and Wyatt were in the kitchen, Scott and Sara sat at the kitchen table, and Cassie sat happily in her mother’s lap.
“Uh,” Angel began, trying to find the right words.
“Surprise!” Sara exclaimed, grinning widely.
“Nice undies,” Ryan said, winking at her.
“Shit!” Angel cursed, realizing she was standing there with her pants down. She quickly pulled them back up, then pulled herself together enough to speak. “What are all of you doing here?”
“We wanted to surprise you with Thanksgiving dinner,” Sara explained. “Scott told Ryan you had a check-in with work today, so we snuck in after you left to get everything ready.”
Angel went from pissed off to completely overwhelmed faster than she could track. Pausing a moment to take it all in, she saw a fully cooked turkey sitting on the counter, ready to be carved. Wyatt was mashing a giant pot of potatoes, Ryan was draining a pot of carrots, and Caleb was scooping stuffing out of the turkey. She couldn’t believe they’d gone to such lengths to surprise her like this.
“Wow,” Angel said, failing to come up with a better way to express herself. “Just, wow. This is amazing, I can’t believe you did all this for me.”
“Don’t be silly,” Sara told her, “you’re our friend, and you’ve done so much for us, we just wanted to give a little back. Now come on, have some wine and relax, the boys are almost done with dinner.”
Angel moved to sit with Sara, still a little shell-shocked. Taking the glass of wine Scott offered her, she took a big swallow.
“How on Earth did you get roped into this, Scott?” she asked, curious because she was pretty sure the kid was still terrified of wolves.
“Ryan’s been teaching me how to fight,” Scott explained, “and he mentioned they were looking for a way to surprise you with something nice, so I told them you were going to be out today.”
“What?!” Angel spluttered, having just taken a sip of wine. “What do you mean, Ryan’s teaching you how to fight?”
“Relax, Angel,” Ryan said, “I’m going easy on him.”
“I thought you were afraid of wolves?” Angel asked Scott.
“I am…I mean, I was,” Scott replied, “but most of them are pretty nice.”
“I’m guessing your brother has no clue?”
“Uh, no,” Scott admitted, “and I’m planning on keeping it that way. He’s not a big fan of wolves.”
“Or me, for that matter,” Angel added. Scott laughed nervously, and Angel patted him on the back. “Don’t worry about it, Scott,” she told him. “Just make sure he doesn’t find out you’re hanging out with us.”
“Deal,” Scott agreed.
“Looks like we’re just about ready,” Caleb announced from the kitchen.
A moment later, Ryan and Wyatt came and set several bowls full of food on the table. Caleb followed, carrying the very large turkey, which he set in the center of the table. Sara stood and placed Cassie gently in her car seat, positioning it on the sofa so she could watch the baby while she ate. Angel took a seat next to Sara, with Caleb on her other side.
“Alright,” Caleb said, holding up the carving knife and fork, “who wants a leg?”
Chapter 11
Thanksgiving dinner with the wolves was incredible. Angel had never seen so much food in her life; she was in heaven. After turkey and stuffing, Sara dragged Wyatt into the kitchen, and they returned with no fewer than seven pies. After gorging herself, Angel sat back in her chair with a glass of wine.
“That was probably the best Thanksgiving meal I’ve ever had,” she said. “Thank you, all of you, this was a wonderful surprise.”
“Don’t mention it,” Ryan told her, gathering up plates and heading into the kitchen.
“Let me help,” Angel said, collecting empty glasses and cutlery.
“No, no, no,” Sara scolded, taking the dishes from Angel’s hands. “We’ll clean everything up. You go watch Cassie.”
“Are you sure?” Angel asked. “I mean, you guys did all the cooking.”
“Positive,” Sara grinned, pushing her into the living room. “Now go spend some time with your goddaughter.”
“Okay, okay,” Angel relented, moving to sit on the sofa next to Cassie's car seat. The little girl was wide awake and stared up at Angel curiously. “Hello there, little one,” Angel cooed, brushing her fingers against the baby’s tiny little hand. Cassie latched on to her finger with a surprisingly strong grip, gurgling happily. Angel pulled slightly, trying to disengage the infant, but Cassie held on tight.
“Here,” Caleb offered, sitting on the other side of the car seat and holding up a small stuffed bear, “she likes this one.”
He held the toy out to Cassie, who released Angel’s finger and grabbed at the teddy bear instead. Angel smiled as Cassie immediately stuffed one of the bear’s feet into her mouth.
“She’s definitely a wolf,” Angel joked, bopping Cassie on the nose and making the girl grin.
“So,” Caleb began, and Angel was a little worried about what he’d say next, “I take it the check-in didn’t go well?”
“No, not really,” Angel replied, relieved and disappointed at the same time. “The tests confirm the power I gained from the blood magic is fading, but it’s not fading as quickly as they’d like.”
“They don’t think you’re going out and getting more, do they?” Caleb asked, concerned.
“No,” Angel assured him, “that would show up on the tests pretty clearly. I think it’s the stupid shrink they’ve got me seeing that’s the problem.”
“Why does it not surprise me you don’t like a psychiatrist?” Caleb teased.
“Psychologist,” Angel corrected. “And if you had to sit in a room with him for an hour, answering stupid questions that are totally irrelevant, you’d hate him, too.”
“Don’t worry,” Caleb told her, “I’m sure you’ll be back to work soon.”
“But will I go crazy from boredom in the meantime?” Angel asked, making him laugh. It was a nice sound, and she realized how nice it was to spend time with him, how natural it was.
“I can’t answer that for you,” Caleb replied, “but I might be able to help.”
“Oh?” Angel asked. She was trying to sound calm, but internally her wolf was throwing up images of the different ways he could keep her busy.
“I might have a job for you,” he continued. “There’s a conference in one week in Barrie. Every Alpha in North America is invited, and the Master Alpha is looking for a little extra security. I recommended you, and he liked the idea. If you’re interested, he’ll pay your way, you can meet him, and he can decide if he wants to hire you for the week.”
Angel’s heart fell, but she managed to pull herself together before he noticed.
“You think me working security at a werewolf conference is a good idea?” she asked. “You really think any of them would even listen to me?”
“You’d be on the Master Alpha’s private security detail,” Caleb explained. “Your interactions with other wolves would be limited.”
“Oh,” Angel said, surprised. “That’s one hell of a recommendation.”
Caleb shrugged. “I’ve worked with the Master Alpha a lot in the past. He values my opinion.”
“Why do I feel like there’s more to this than basic security?” Angel asked, her wolf telling her Caleb was leaving something out.
Caleb smiled apologetically. “There is,” he told her, “but I’m not allowed to discuss it right now. The Master Alpha will explain everything once we get to Barrie, and if you’re not interested, there’ll be no hard feelings.”
Instinct told Angel this was a bad idea; whether it was the details Caleb wasn’t allowed to share or the fact that she’d potentially be close to him for a whole week, she wasn’t sure. She considered the idea for a moment, but ultimately her curiosity, and the desire to finally do something after months off the job, won out.
“Alright,” she told him, “I’m in.”
Chapter 12
Angel was a bundle of nerves for the next week. She was both terrified and elated to spend so much time around Cale
b. On the one hand, there was the ever-present fear that he’d find out what she was and reject her, Mate or not. On the other hand, Angel was allowing herself to believe maybe, just maybe they could find a way to make things work. Maybe.
With that in mind, she flipped between incredibly depressed and overly optimistic a few times a day. During her depressed moments, she convinced herself Caleb had completely given up on her and recommending her for this job was his way of putting her firmly into the friend category. Or she imagined the worst possible reactions he could have to finding out she was a hybrid. Top of the list was him selling her to the highest bidder. During her optimistic moments, she flounced around her house like a twelve-year-old girl with a crush, fiddling with her hair and grinning like an idiot whenever she passed a mirror.
It was three days before the conference when Angel finally realized she was about to be thrown head first into a very delicate situation. Dominant wolves didn’t get along well on principle, mostly because their instincts pushed them to determine who the most dominant male was, usually by fighting. Every Alpha in North America was invited to the conference - 127 in total - and each Alpha could bring up to three additional wolves with them, for a total of over 400 werewolves. Angel was starting to get a little worried that throwing a witch into that mix would end badly. She voiced her concerns when Caleb called that evening to figure out travel plans.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Caleb?” she asked. “I mean, I get along fine with your wolves, most of the time, but most wolves really don’t like witches.”
“It’ll be fine, Angel,” Caleb reassured her. “You’ve been invited by the Master Alpha. Anyone who disagrees with his choice in security would have to challenge him openly, and no one’s going to do that.”
“Alright,” Angel relented, “but if things get stupid - between the wolves, at least - I’m out of there.”
“Definitely,” Caleb agreed. “So I figured it would be easier if we drove up together on Sunday. Then we can check into the hotel, meet with the Master Alpha, and get a good night’s sleep before the conference starts. What do you think?”
Burned: Wild Magic Book 2 Page 5
