by Lyla Oweds
I was losing him—I was losing my last chance. And with that, the end of everything I’d worked so hard for. I had avoided this location; this was the least desirable of all the precincts I’d sought after. But suddenly, even working here would be a dream.
It didn’t matter how hard I had worked or what I’d accomplished. No one was going to hire me because I was a woman. “But sir, if you’d just give me the chance, I’ll prove myself. Just put me on a field team, please. That’s all I ask.”
“It’s too risky.” Even though his white mustache almost entirely covered his mouth, it still didn’t hide his heavy frown. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “Some precincts will hire females, I know. In the cities, where the movements are strongest. But here, it will take decades for our people to catch up to their sentiments.”
“No.” I slammed my hands on the desk even as tears rushed to my eyes. It was weak, and I felt foolish for becoming so frustrated. After all, I had expected this might be the outcome. But it still hurt. “I can’t move to another city. I have to stay here. In this area. Somewhere close by.”
“Miss Protean.” His voice was firm now, all signs of his patience having fled. “That’s enough. Now, if you’ll excuse yourself—”
“She can work on my team, maybe?” Michael interjected—he’d been so quiet I’d nearly forgotten that he was here. “Gregory and I could use the extra set of eyes. And her nose. Joe wouldn’t be against it.”
This time, I sought him out. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed him leaning against the door. His arms were crossed and his left ankle hooked behind the other. For all intents and purposes, he was completely at ease. As if he was making conversation instead of undermining his superior in front of an outsider.
Usually, he was arrogant, but that was gone. Right now, he only radiated determination.
I knew what this meant, and my heart pounded in both excitement and anxiety. What was he doing?
“Don’t talk about your commanding officer with such familiarity.” Chief Conner turned his disapproving glare to Michael. “Between the three of you, your team can see the spirits of the dead, read their memories, and exorcise them. Why would you need a shifter? Besides, your line of work is the worst for a woman to start—”
“What do you investigate?” Hope made me reckless, I was potentially alienating the chief of police by pressing this further. But a line had been thrown, and it would have been foolish not to grasp it.
Not even if it meant I’d have to see Michael’s face every day.
Michael turned his sharp eyes toward me, capturing mine. As it always did when the weight of his attention was on me when I wasn’t on my guard, my face flushed.
I hoped I could stand working with him every day.
Then the words he had spoken while I’d found myself staring at his lips registered.
“We work on abandoned cases,” he had said. “Usually those which involve a bit of a curse, and other investigators tend to steer clear of due to unfortunate happenings to previous case workers.”
“Abandoned cases?” I asked, offended. While it was true that my interests lay in this sort of work, for obvious reasons, it was the point of the matter. No one invested in cold cases. “You fund this but claim to be unable to hire me? I’m a guaranteed resource for your department! What is their success rate?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Chief Conner didn’t seem offended by my question. “And the team has had no success, at least not yet. Mr. Abernathy is the newest addition to the department, which was only formed late last year. Besides, the entire team works almost completely pro-bono.”
My next argument fell silent on my tongue, and my surprised gaze turned to Michael.
He was pointedly staring away from me but was still unable to hide his red-tinted cheeks or the telltale sound of his racing heart. Unlike earlier, when I’d done my best to ignore his face, his clothes, everything about him—this time I actually paid attention.
Michael Abernathy, who so often dressed in meticulous perfection, with nary a thread out of place, had the hint of frayed hems on his slacks. His shirt, while still brilliantly white, wasn’t as freshly pressed as from the days when we’d shared classes. And even the colors of his checkered suspenders weren’t as brilliant as usual—a sign that they’d been worn and cleaned a few times previously.
In short, Michael wasn’t the same pretentious snob I’d grown to know. He seemed almost normal now.
Still, even with the proof in front of me, I was doubtful. It was a fact his family could have bought him a position anywhere. He’d never agree to live like a commoner. “You work without pay?”
“Of course not.” Michael frowned, glancing at me as he touched his burgundy tie. “I’m a professional. We don’t work for free.”
I raised my eyebrow, noting his discomfort scenting the air heavily. Michael had always been a terrible liar.
He noticed, of course, and rolled his eyes. “It’s not free. We make a dollar an hour, if you must know.”
“Why are you working somewhere where you’d make minimum wage?” And, even more importantly, why create a team of investigators and compensate them half the average salary for our profession? What was the point? Especially if that team hadn’t delivered anything in all its existence.
“It is rude to discuss finances with a lady.” Chief Conner rested his chin on his fist as he frowned at Michael. “And it is irrelevant anyway. We cannot bring on another investigator into this department. We don’t have the pre-approvals in place. Plus”—he glanced toward me—“I’m not going to lie. You’re a risk, and people are going to push back against your presence. You should be at home, taking care of your husband and children—”
My blood burned hot, and my fists clenched at my sides. No one, not even the people who’d laughed outright at me, had dared to verbalize the exact reason why. “I don’t have—”
“But from the looks of you and that determined expression, you’re not the sort to submit willingly.” He circled his finger in the air. “You’re trouble. And we cannot afford trouble. But what you do with your free time is up to you.”
My heart thundered in my ears—I wasn’t sure if this was a rejection, again, or something else.
“Mr. Abernathy,” he continued, glancing toward Michael. “Please take care of Miss Protean?”
Michael grinned, something predatory and delightful at the same time. Which, also, didn’t serve to alleviate my confusion. His gray-eyed gaze met mine, and I was trapped. “It would be my pleasure.”
Chapter Two
Michael ignored my questions. He led me through narrow, winding hallways and down staircases. Unlike his usual demeanor, he was silent now, and his hand was hot against my waist as he quietly bade me to follow him.
But finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d never let anyone lead me around for so long before in my life. And although Michael had a way of making me feel like a different person, I had more self-respect than this.
Besides, I still had no idea what Chief Conner had meant by his strange statement. Someone should just come out and say it: was I employed or wasn’t I?
“Michael, where are we going?” I glanced at him, waiting for his acknowledgement. But he ignored me, smirking.
So this time, I dug in my heels, bringing us to a halt. A difficult task, considering I wore my pointed pumps, which made balance a pain anyway. “Michael, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” He dropped his hand from my waist and stepped toward a nearby door. “I’m about to head into my office, and my future wife has insisted on following me to work. Do you plan on stalking me all day?”
Heat rose to my face, and my fists tightened at my side. “I’m not your future wife!” Why was he so infuriating? “You dragged me down here, so I’ve basically been kidnapped. Besides, what do you mean, your office?” I glanced at the rows of cabinets and papers lining the hallway to the right. “We’re down here with the old filing.”
/> He turned from me, but not quick enough to disguise the wry grin on his face, and pushed open the door. “My dear Firecracker, I want to be the first to welcome you to the Department of Forgotten Mysteries.”
The room was small. Three desks were crammed into the space of what would normally have been a single, decent-sized office. So our arrival, and Michael’s announcement, didn’t go unnoticed by the inhabitant within.
He was young, possibly around the same age as Michael and myself. And was slightly taller than Michael, which meant he towered over my five-foot-seven frame.
Generally, I preferred darker features on men. And this man’s hair was almost black, and his eyes were such a deep brown that they resembled dark chocolate. He was clean shaven, and had a wider frame than Michael. He also didn’t seem pleased at Michael’s antics, evident in his annoyed scent as he glanced at the other man.
In a word, he was completely my type. He would have been perfect if he wasn’t fae. Such a waste.
It was odd, though. I rarely saw fae in this part of town. They tended to keep to their own communities.
Still, he didn’t even glance in my direction. His gaze followed Michael as the onmyoji scooted past me and hung his jacket on a rack beside the door.
“Mr. Michael, how many times must I remind you not to call our department such ridiculous things. We’ll never gain respect if you keep making jokes. Where have you been? You said you were going to follow up on our request. And now you’ve come back with a woman.” His head tilted in my direction. “Who is this?”
My God, even his voice sounded delicious.
“And why does she look like she wants to eat me?” He finally looked at me, and the desire to do that very thing grew. Though I wasn’t certain which kind of eating was more appealing at the moment.
“Because she probably does.” Michael was beside me again, his touch centered on my waist. He pulled me from the other man, leading me toward one of the file-covered desks. “It’s likely that she hasn’t had one of you for dinner in some time.”
His presence, and his words, snapped me back to myself, and I jerked away, glaring at him. “How dare you insinuate—”
“Oh, relax.” Michael, in a surprising display of strength, pressed me into a straight-backed chair. “You shouldn’t talk so much when stalking someone.”
“I’m not stalking you!” I protested, glowering at him. From his unfazed expression and the way he moved to organize a stack of papers on the desk, he didn’t care. “All of that is a figment of your imagination!”
“I like her.” The dark-haired man raised his eyebrow as he crossed the short distance between us. “So, who is she?”
Michael didn’t even glance up as he continued to root through his papers. “You could always ask her.”
“I didn’t ask her because it’s rude. You’re supposed to make introductions,” the man replied, his imploring gaze meeting mine. Despite apparently finding the action such a terrible breach of manners, he questioned me anyway. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
My heart, which had been racing alarmingly since arriving, began to steady somewhat. No matter how attractive he might be, his lack of manners had a way of dulling the appeal.
Besides, what gentleman expected a lady to introduce herself first? I’d have to be wary of this one.
But while his words were abrupt, his eyes were curious and soft. My ardor might have cooled, but still there was something that called to my instincts.
I wanted to know more about him.
So I introduced myself anyway, holding out my hand. “My name is Gloria Protean.” The way his gaze held mine—the way I was the center of his attention—it caused my breath to catch once again, and I had to force my next words out with a breath. “And I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here, to be honest.”
At my words, his brow climbed higher, and he glanced at Michael, confused. The other man ignored us as he seemed to be searching for something. The silence became almost painful before his attention drifted back to me, his eyes locking on to my still-outstretched hand.
Slowly, after a moment, he shook it.
“I’m Gregory Stephens,” he said. Uncertainty was written on his face, and I wasn’t sure why he seemed hesitant. But my self-consciousness washed away with the touch of his larger hand over mine.
However, his next words removed the distraction from my mind. “I am surprised to see you here. Michael mentioned that you were busy with wedding plans.”
My grip tightened, as did my fury, and my attention shot toward Michael. “What?”
Michael stiffened at Gregory’s words. Before I could twitch, he dropped his papers as a rare, but sudden, spike of fear emanated from his direction. “Now, Gloria.” He stepped back, out of my reach. He waved his hand in the air between us. “Let’s not be hasty.”
“Whose wedding? Certainly not ours.” I moved to stand up, but Michael was faster. He stepped back farther and pushed the desk in my direction, causing me to fall onto my butt in the seat. “Oh, I’m going to murder you.”
“Please, my Firecracker.” Michael continued to hold the desk steady. And since the wall blocked me from pushing my seat farther back, I was trapped into place. Red lined my vision, the idiotic nickname making it worse, and I growled despite myself.
A touch of anxiety laced his voice next. “I did tell you that I wanted to speak to your father. Besides, you can’t murder me. Not here. We’re inside a police department.”
“How interesting.” Gregory looked between us once, contemplation in his expression. Then, without warning, he reached forward, grabbing a corner of the table. He pulled it back with such force that it knocked Michael to the ground.
“How could you?” Michael pushed himself up, throwing a hurt look in Gregory’s direction. “We’re supposed to be best friends.”
“You’re still an ass sometimes,” he deadpanned before his gaze met mine. Even though he tried to cover his expression, it was impossible to ignore the amusement in his eyes. “Go get him,” he told me.
“Yes…” I barely had time to appreciate how amusement made his face even more striking. But first things first.
“I’m going to kill you.” Now that I was free, the first thing I was going to do was rip off Michael’s face. “And then, after you’re dead, I’m going to kill you again.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Michael got to his feet while I stalked around the edge of the table. “Yet, for some reason, it intrigues me even more.”
Gregory had stepped away, his back to the door. He crossed his arms as he watched us. “That’s because you’re a psychopath,” he said, his eyes on Michael.
Usually, I was scared of Michael, of the way his power overshadowed my own. But today, frustration had already put me on edge. Recently, I’d been denying my beast, desperate to portray myself as a professional.
But right now, I wanted to hurt him. Who knew, he might even survive and I’d have some fun.
My voice was a snarl, and I was three seconds from embracing my wolf. “I’m going to—”
The lights shut off, throwing the room into darkness. More so since we had no windows or other sources of natural light. The sound of a throat being cleared echoed through the room. Then, just as abruptly, the lights flickered back on. The extremes threw me into temporary blindness.
“What’s going on here?” A deep voice broke through both Michael and Gregory’s grumblings. When my eyes adjusted to the light, they found the intruder instantly.
A dark-skinned man, slightly older than us, stood behind Gregory. His hand was still over the switch. His eyes barely touched me before he turned the power of his look on Michael. “What did you do this time?”
Michael gasped, placing his hand to his chest as he actually had the nerve to look offended. “Joe, how could you ask that? I’m the victim—”
“My apologies, Mr. Kohler.” Gregory touched his tie, straightening it as if he was the one who’d been fighting. “It seems Micha
el might have become a bit ambitious lately.”
Mr. Kohler frowned, an unspoken question in his gaze. But before I could even introduce myself, Gregory gestured toward me. “This is Miss Gloria Protean.”
“Oh…” His lips pursed as his eyes glanced over my face. “Michael’s fiancée? What are you doing here?”
A snarl escaped before I could stop myself. “I’m not his fiancée! I am no one’s fiancée. I’ve got work to do, a mission to chase. I’ve no time for this nonsense.”
“Ah, yes.” Mr. Kohler stroked his mustache and nodded once, as if he completely understood what I was saying. “Men are disgusting creatures. I understand.”
My fury fled in an instant, and I stared at him. I wasn’t certain how he had gotten that from my statement. “Pardon?”
“I met my wife within the suffrage movement, and we have two young daughters.” He sounded sympathetic. “I know how it is.”
“I don’t hate men!” Oh, how I loathed this stereotype. “I hate being told that I cannot hold a job, or that I need to be at home—married and raising cubs. And I hate men who view women as objects for their gratification.”
“So…” His voice trailed off slightly, his face wary. “Just most men?”
“No.” I pointed at Gregory, who’d been actually quite decent this entire time. In fact, his helping out earlier had made him even more appealing to me. “He smells nice.”
“If that’s your baseline, I think you’ll be disappointed.” Mr. Kohler frowned. He barely spoke the words, yet they were still loud enough for me to hear. “Mr. Stephens is most unpleasant. It runs in the whole family.”
Gregory, who shot me an alarmed look after my compliment, made his way back to his desk. Meanwhile, Michael pouted, even though Mr. Kohler was ignoring him. And before another word could be spoken by either of us, Mr. Kohler changed the subject. “If you’re not engaged to Mr. Abernathy, then why are you here?”
