by Molly Harper
Dani strode into the office with purpose, and Zed’s feet dropped off his desk. He straightened in his chair as Dani skidded to a halt.
“Wow, you certainly have a lot of pictures of yourself,” she noted.
Zed’s only response was to grin. He’d devoted his office to all things awesome: pictures of Zed on his Harley, pictures of Zed fishing bare-handed, pictures of Zed’s maman, pictures of Zed with Bael and Jillian. He’d even crafted his own desk out of a huge live oak that had been struck by lightning out by his maman’s house. He carved the repeating pattern of Germanic runes into the face of the desk and its drawers with his own claws. He’d once even tried to refer to himself as “Zed Oakendesk” after watching The Hobbit one too many times. But Bael had vetoed his suggestion, based on some Draconian prohibition against grown men picking their own nicknames.
Shaking off her brief distraction, Dani turned to Zed. “You’ve got a problem.”
“You know, my mechanic uses the same tone of voice when he tells me I’ve got an oil leak.”
“Well, it’s an interesting comparison because that’s exactly what’s going on,” she said.
Bael swallowed the last of the sandwich and raised his hand. “I don’t follow.”
Jillian set aside her lunch plate and sat at attention, in full League supervisor mode. “What’s going on, Dani?”
“The rift is wider since the last time I saw it, since just a few days ago,” Dani said. “Someone has been pulling at it. Like when you worry a loose string on a sweater? I thought maybe I was imagining things, but it’s becoming less stable as I work with it, not more. If this continues, the birth rates you’re seeing of magique in human families? Think double or triple. Same with the adult humans suddenly sprouting antlers and previously unknown mojo. The born magique will experience big spikes in their talents, which sounds pretty good at first, except that eventually, they’ll start spiraling out of control like Carrie at the prom and even people born with those powers won’t be able to handle them. I am, of course, speculating, and not basing this on any sort of math like Dr. Aspern could apply.”
Zed growled softly, making Dani’s brows rise.
“This is going to sound like an accusation, which is not my intention, but are you sure it’s not your work de-stabilizing the rift?” Jillian asked.
Dani shook her head. “I think it might be that other energy witch in town, Maureen Sherman? She’s the only person I can imagine would be capable of doing this kind of damage. But I’ve never stayed at the site while she was working, so I can’t say what she’s been doing.”
“What? Why would the League send another consultant to work on the rift?” Zed asked, turning to Jillian.
“Maureen Sherman?” Jillian shook her head, a line of confusion crinkling her eyebrows. “I don’t know who that is.”
“Maureen Sherman?” Dani repeated. “She got to town about two weeks after I did?”
Jillian’s expression was equal parts confusion and alarm. “I haven’t met her, Dani. I swear, I’ve never even heard the name.”
“But when I was asking you about League contracts, you told me you were sorry about the redhead horning in on my territory!”
Jillian’s jaw dropped. “I meant your office space. I was talking about the redheaded socioeconomics guy who thinks that no one can smell him microwaving fish if he vents the window.”
Dani’s face scrunched into a shape of “instant regret.” Her legs seemed to sag under her. Zed stood and caught her elbow, supporting her weight. “Oh my God, I just ended the conversation as quickly as possible because I didn’t want to endanger my job by complaining about a coworker. I needed the money so badly that I just wanted to do my work and get paid.”
“Oh, shit,” Jillian said through gritted teeth, leaning back in her chair.
“I’m so sorry, Jillian,” said Dani.
“It’s not entirely your fault.” Jillian turned to Bael and Zed. “Guys, how could we not notice a stranger wandering around town, poking around in the rift?”
Bael shrugged. “There have been so many strangers moving through town with the League, it wouldn’t seem strange to see unfamiliar faces.”
“Is it possible the League sent someone to Mystic Bayou without telling you?” Dani asked.
“It doesn’t seem likely,” said Jillian. “But we’re talking about the same people who have had garden gnome spies in the White House for ten administrations and counting.”
Jillian pulled her cell phone from her pocket and said, “Siri, call Goddess of Secrets.” She kept it on speakerphone while Siri dialed, propping it up on Zed’s desk.
A melodic alto filled the office. “Sweetie! Is this a work call or a ‘you missed me so much because I’m amazing’ call?”
“A little of both, Sonja,” replied Jillian. “I’ve got Bael, Zed, and Dani here with me on speakerphone, just as a warning.”
“I always appreciate your dedication to speakerphone etiquette. What’s up?” Sonja asked.
“Sonja, do we have a Maureen Sherman on the rolls as a League employee? And if she is, did the League send her down here as a consultant without telling me about it? Because it’s causing some confusion. And hurt feelings.”
Dani chewed at her thumbnail while the office echoed with the sound of clacking keys. Zed rubbed circles on her back, making what he hoped were soothing chuffing sounds.
“Uh, sweetie, I don’t know what exotic fern Ms. Sherman is smoking, but the League has no idea who she is,” said Sonja. “We have no records of any version of a Maureen Sherman working for us. As a consultant or otherwise.
Dani buried her face in her hands. “That’s a problem.”
“How old would you say she is?” Sonja asked, her tone no-nonsense. “Physical description?”
“Um, I’d say late forties, early fifties, red hair, fine features. Big blue eyes,” said Dani.
A few seconds later, Sonja added “And I’m not seeing any social media presence for a Maureen Sherman matching that description. I’m getting a few hits on Social Security Numbers in the right age range, but the individuals they pertain to seem to be actively employed in full-time jobs in California, Idaho, and Wisconsin.”
Dani’s grip on her chair tightened. The window rattled as if some earthquake was focused solely on Zed’s office. She took a deep labored breath and the phone signal crackled and several glass panes in the photo frames split. Zed moved to her side, stroking his warm hand between her shoulder blades. “Um, I don’t know what’s going on right now, but you need to stop. Breathe, come on, honey. Breathe.”
Zed shot an alarmed look toward Bael. He’d never seen Dani show “outward” signs of her gift that way. Was she changing, like all magique seemed to change in Mystic Bayou?
“Sorry,” Dani wheezed. Bael ever so subtly shifted his body between Dani and Jillian. And because it seemed to make Dani feel worse, Zed glowered at Bael. While Zed understood the need to protect his mate, he couldn’t help but be highly annoyed by additional distress on Dani.
Jillian snapped her fingers. “Okay, so priorities, we stop Maureen from doing further damage. And Dani goes out to the rift to do damage control and repair.”
“Agreed,” said Bael. “Where do you think she could be now?”
Dani straightened and took a deep breath. “She said she had a rental place outside of town. How many rental properties are there outside of town?”
“The Warburton place comes to mind,” Zed said. “They weren’t able to sell it, because the front yard is basically a big mud hole. Mace Warbuton mentioned renting it out on Airbnb.”
“Really?” Jillian asked.
Zed shrugged.
“Maureen seemed too high maintenance to live in a house in a mud hole, but sure, let’s give it a shot. I’ll go with you. I can ID her,” Dani said.
Bael put his hands on her shoulders and turned her away from the door. “You’re not going with me.”
“What? Why?”
“Because
I need to follow procedure and I can’t do that if I’m busy trying to keep you from whippin’ her ass,” Bael said. “Once she’s in custody, you can ID her here.”
“I wouldn’t—okay, yeah, that’s fair,” Dani said.
Bael’s tone gentled, and his arm curved around her, nudging her toward Zed. “You’re going to stay right here and rest because Jillian says that using the force takes a lot out of you and you’re going to need every bit of your strength over the next few days to get things back in order.”
“I don’t think I employed the phrase, ‘use the force,’” said Jillian.
“If Dani had said the words, ‘use the force’ when she was explaining her gift, I probably would have understood it a lot faster,” said Zed.
Dani sighed.
“We’ll be back,” Jillian told them. “You stay here. Zed, keep her safe.”
As the door clicked behind them, Zed wrapped his arms around Dani and pulled her close. She was shaking. Dani never shook. She was always so resolute and steady in what she did, that it made him afraid for her. And yet, at the same time, a low-simmering anger was churning through his gut. She hadn’t lied to him, but she’d put herself in danger through her stiff-necked pride and doubt. He had the urge to take her over his knee or lock her away in his cave, but he was sure either instinct would earn him one of those light balls up his ass.
“I feel so stupid,” she sighed into Zed’s chest. “I just let her hang around while I worked because I assumed she had a place there. Because she had a lot of authority in her voice. This isn’t like me. I don’t let people push me around. Why did I let her get away with it?”
“You’re new to working on this scale,” Zed answered. “The League was asking a lot of you. It’s natural not to want to make waves when you have a lot at stake. And on that note, we need to talk.”
Dani scrubbed a hand over her face. “Nothing good ever followed those words.”
“Well, you have it coming, so get ready. What the hell has been going on inside your head? Why wouldn’t you mention some creepy older lady following you around town when you’ve been attacked? What do you need money for so badly that you’re willing to put yourself in danger—more danger than usual?”
Dani bristled a bit, the first emotion she’d displayed beyond anxiety since she’d walked in. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
“It’s my business if you get yourself hurt because of it. And it’s my business if people I love get hurt.”
“Dammit, that is some really sound logic,” Dani grumbled.
Zed slid his arms around her and tucked his face into her hair. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me.”
“I told you that my grandparents basically raised me at their place in Wisconsin,” she said. “And that my dad is a selfish waste of space who disappears for parts unknown for months or years at a time?”
Zed released her, letting her sit in one of his office chairs while he balanced an asscheek on his desk.
Dani pinched her nose. “Well, dear old dad has disappeared to some ashram in India with a shit-ton of cash in his pocket. Most of that cash came from mortgaging my grandparents’ farm, twice. He took out home equity loans, lines of credit, all without me or my grandfather knowing, all with my grandmother’s cooperation, because she didn’t realize what was going on. Gramma’s dementia was more serious than we thought toward the end. She had developed a lot of little coping mechanisms to hide how bad off she was, pretending she hadn’t heard us correctly when we asked her a question or pretending she’d left her car keys in the freezer as a joke. Journey had figured it out, I’m sure, and if my dad told her she was just signing some papers to give her son a little ‘help,’ I’m sure she would put her initials on anything he handed her.”
“Holy shit.” Zed sat back on his desk. He couldn’t imagine what he would do if his own mother’s livelihood, her home, was threatened. He couldn’t imagine the strain of knowing that his own parent had put someone he loved in danger. And that Dani had been going through this alone, instead of sharing her burdens with him? Hurt blended in to that simmering anger soup, making for a stomach-churning mix.
Dani nodded. “Yep. With the fee I’m earning from this job, combined with my savings, I’ll be able to pay off the debt, keep the creditors at bay.”
“So, knowing what you’ve been worrying over, I can sort of understand why you freaked out at the idea of losing this job,” he offered.
“Thank you.”
“What I don’t get is why you wouldn’t tell me about this so I could lighten the load a little bit for you?” he asked.
She shook her head, looking so very angry and helpless that Zed wanted to take her back to his cave and keep her far away from anything that could possibly hurt her feelings. “I don’t have an answer for you. I don’t know why I didn’t feel comfortable telling you. I don’t know why I wouldn’t trust you to help me. I don’t know why I do a lot of things. I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t judge me for it. I know you wouldn’t shy away. I’m just used to handling things on my own. That’s my first instinct, so that’s what I did.”
Zed leaned forward and kissed her. “Okay.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded. “Yep. What’s the ashram called?”
“It’s not called anything. It’s known as The Place With No Name, which is really difficult to track down, no matter how good your Google skills are—”
He pressed a solemn kiss to her lips. “Let me get this one.”
“I don’t understand?”
“I’m still annoyed at you,” Zed answered. “And we’re going to spend a lot of time talking about you taking too much on yourself. But I am very close to loving you and I’m going to take care of this one thing for you, okay? Let me get your father off of your back.”
“I don’t see how you’re going to do—”
He kissed her again.
“Stop kissing me to shut me up!” she protested.
“You got a more fun way to do it?”
Dani sighed. “Fine. You can have this one.”
“Awesome. Eat this.” Zed handed her a still-warm sandwich and a bottle of water. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. Rajesh picked up on the second ring.
“Zed! How are you, my friend?”
Zed cleared his throat. “Hey, Rajesh, how’s it going?”
Winking at Dani, Zed walked out of his office and shut the door gently behind him.
“Very well! We just found out that Analah is expecting our first child,” Rajesh said, his tone proud.
Zed hooted into the phone, grateful for some good news during what had been a really shitty day. “Really? Congratulations, buddy! When’s she due?”
“Thank you. We’re very excited. And in about six months. We hope that by then, the medical staff will have moved into town. I can’t exactly take her to a human doctor’s office for an ultrasound of our baby big cat cub.”
“Any day now, Rajesh, I promise. Dr. Ramsay has had a little bit of trouble tracking down a doctor willing to move to the Bayou permanently.”
“I suppose that’s reasonable. If you’ve spent that much on medical school, you probably don’t want to end up in a town with two stoplights,” Rajesh said.
Zed snorted. “Hey, man, we’re going to have the third stoplight installed in a couple of weeks.”
“Now, what can I do for you?” asked Rajesh. “You normally don’t call me in the middle of the day.”
“Yeah, I know. I just have a quick question—how often do you get over to India?”
14
Dani
Dani sat alone in Zed’s office, feeling the full weight of her stupidity. She’d been tricked. This woman Maureen fed her a pack of lies and she’d just bought it, without asking. If she’d just said something earlier, instead of being so paranoid about keeping her job that she’d put up an entirely unnecessary front, a lot of this might have been avoided. If she hadn’t been so determined to k
eep Zed at a distance, he wouldn’t be quite righteously pissed at her. If she had said something to Jillian, the rift wouldn’t be in such bad shape.
And Zed? Instead of yelling or telling her off, he’d been so understanding about the whole thing. Which just made her feel worse. As someone who didn’t suffer this sort of crisis of conscience very often, she told herself this was a feeling she would learn from and never repeat again.
She pushed the sandwich aside, too nauseated to eat, but drank the bottle of water. She tipped her head back against the chair. And it was possible that she’d nodded off because in what felt like no time at all, Zed was marching back into his office with Bael and Jillian in tow.
“Did you find her?” Dani asked. “Did you question her? Tell me it involved a phone book and a hose.”
Bael grimaced and took a step back from her. “Maureen Sherman won’t be answering any questions. She’s dead.”
Dani slumped in her seat. “I immediately regret the phone book comment. Am I a suspect?”
“No, it looks like she had a heart attack in her kitchen. There was a bottle of heart medication on the counter. I think she was trying to get to it. Ivy Portenoy will be able to give us some test results in a few days to help us figure out what happened. The ID in her purse and the label on her meds both said ‘Maureen Sherman,’ but Ivy should be able to confirm that with dental records. Once we figure out cause of death, we’ll know whether this is a murder or if it’s just a weird problem that resolved itself with tachycardia.” Bael shot Zed a wry look. “And that’s why we need a coroner.”
Zed shuddered. “She’s still creepy.”
“Did Maureen ever say anything to you about having a heart condition?” Bael asked.
“Not really,” Dani replied. “But she’d been hiking through heavy terrain a couple times a week. And if she’s been working with the rift a lot, she probably felt drained. It wouldn’t be out of the question for her to just collapse.”