Tall, his skin the color of rich coffee, and dressed all in black, Jim looked like he was carved from a block of solid muscle. Logic said that at some point he must’ve been a baby and then a child, but looking at him one was almost convinced that some deity had touched the ground with its scepter and proclaimed, “There shall be a badass,” and Jim had sprung into existence, fully formed, complete with clothes, and ready for action. He was the alpha of Clan Cat, the Pack’s chief of security, and Curran’s best friend.
He braked near us.
“Have you vetted the Wolves of the Isle yet?” Curran asked.
“No.”
“Who are the Wolves of the Isle?” I asked.
“It’s a small pack from the Florida Keys,” Curran said. “Eight people. They’re petitioning to join us and for some odd reason our security chief is dragging his feet on the background checks.”
Jim waved the stack of paper in his hand. “The security chief has two thefts, four murders, and an abandonment of post to deal with.”
“Murders?” I asked.
Jim nodded.
“I gave my word to the wolves,” Curran said.
“I’m not opposed to admitting them.” Jim spread his arms. “All I’m saying is let me make sure the people we have are safe before we add any more to them. By the way, Kate, did you review the Guild documents I sent you?”
Deflecting attention, are we? I gave him my tough stare. It bounced off Jim like hail from the pavement. “Somewhat. I was busy.”
“See?” Jim pointed to me. “Your mate is doing the same thing I’m doing. Prioritizing.”
I would get him for this. Oh yes.
Curran looked at Jim. “Do you need my help with the background checks?”
A muscle in Jim’s face jerked. “No, I’ve got it.”
Ha! He didn’t want Curran in his hair either. “Don’t worry, he’s coming with me to investigate things.”
“In the city?” Jim asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s a great idea. You both should go. To the city.”
Curran and I looked at each other.
“He’s trying to get rid of us,” I said.
“You think he’s planning a coup?” Curran wondered.
“I hope so.” I turned to Jim. “Is there any chance you’d overthrow the tyrannical Beast Lord and his psychotic Consort?”
“Yeah, I want a vacation,” Curran said.
Jim leaned toward us and said in a lowered voice, “You couldn’t pay me enough. This is your mess, you deal with it. I have enough on my plate.”
He walked away.
“Too bad,” Curran said.
“I don’t know, I think we could convince him to seize the reins of power.”
Curran shook his head. “Nah. He’s too smart for that.”
We finally made it up the stairs, through the long hallway, up the second flight, and into our quarters. I dropped my bag down, shrugged out of my sword and scabbard and took a deep breath. Aahh, home.
Generally, tackling someone from behind is very effective, because the person doesn’t know you’re coming. However, after being tackled a dozen times, the victim becomes accustomed to it. Which is why when Curran made a grab for me, I danced aside and tripped him. He grabbed my arm, then we did some rolling on the floor, and I ended up on top of him, our noses about an inch apart.
He grinned. “You’re jealous.”
I considered it. “No. But when you stared at that woman like she was made of diamonds, it didn’t feel very good.”
“I stared at her because she smelled strange.”
“Strange how?”
“She smelled like rock dust. Very strong dry smell.” Curran put his arms around me. “I love it when you get all fussy and possessive.”
“I never get fussy and possessive.”
He grinned, showing his teeth. His face was practically glowing. “So you’re cool if I go over and chat her up?”
“Sure. Are you cool if I go and chat up that sexy werewolf on the third floor?”
He went from casual and funny to deadly serious in half a blink. “What sexy werewolf?”
I laughed.
Curran’s eyes focused. He was concentrating on something.
“You’re taking a mental inventory of all the people working on the third floor, aren’t you?”
His expression went blank. I’d hit the nail on the head.
I slid off him and put my head on his biceps. The shaggy carpet was nice and comfortable under my back.
“Is it Jordan?”
“I just picked a random floor,” I told him. “You’re nuts, you know that?”
He put his arm around me. “Look who’s talking.”
We lay together on the carpet.
“We can’t let the necklace kill that boy,” I said.
“We’ll do everything we can.” He sighed. “I’m sorry about dinner.”
“Best date ever. Well, until people died and vampires showed up. But before that it was awesome.”
We lay there some more.
“We should go to bed.” Curran stretched next to me. “Except the carpet is nice and soft and I’m tired.”
“You want me to carry you?”
He laughed. “Think you can?”
“I don’t know. Do you want to find out?”
It turned out that carrying him to our bed wasn’t necessary. He got there on his own power and he wasn’t nearly as tired as he’d claimed to be.
Morning brought a call from Doolittle. When we arrived at the medward, Roderick was sitting on the cot, the same owlish expression on his face. The necklace had lost some of its yellow tint during the night. Now it looked slightly darker than orange rind.
I crouched by the boy. “Hi.”
Roderick looked at me with his big eyes. “Good morning.”
His voice was weak. In my mind the necklace constricted around his fragile neck. The bone crunched…
We had to get a move on. We had to get it off him.
Doolittle led us toward the door and spoke quietly. “There is a definite change in the color of the metal. He’s beginning to experience discomfort.”
“So that thing is getting hungry,” Curran said.
“Probably.” Doolittle held up a small printout. A pale blue stripe cut across the paper. The m-scan. The m-scanner recorded specific types of magic as different colors: purple for the undead, green for shapeshifter, and so on. Blue stood for plain human magic—mages, telepaths, and telekinetics all registered blue. It was the basic human default.