by Celia Kyle
He shook out his sugar packets, and Aurora felt an unaccountable affection for him. So much that she was even starting to find his casual vulgarity endearing.
“Not only that, but dig this, little miss. Tomorrow, I’m going to file the paperwork to make you a full investigator. No more of this junior shit for you. You’re past that.”
Aurora’s heart rose like a phoenix from the ashes. Her first thought was how excited Dane would be to hear the news, but she caught herself. Even with all of this, she needed to be careful about falling for him too hard. Her job might be saved, but her heart was too fragile to invest in a losing bargain.
“I just…” she started, but her throat locked up on her for a moment. “I guess I just want to say thank you. For trusting me.”
“Meh,” he waved her off again, “like I said, it all came down to your work ethic. That’s what those other clowns are short on.”
By now, her coffee was so full of cream and sugar, it could barely be called coffee anymore. Still, it was drinkable—even if it was going to keep her up all night. After the highs and lows of the day, sleep was going to be in short supply anyway.
“Here’s the thing that gets me,” Paul said, sipping at his own concoction. “Who would want to eighty-six ol’ Abernathy? I mean, sure, he saw that shithead stealing some potion, but that’s pretty small potatoes. Right?”
“That’s what I thought at first,” Aurora said, trailing off before explaining herself, still nervous about keeping her job secure.
“Lay it on me.”
“It’s just... Okay, so the potion Finch took was powerful, but was that really enough to kill someone over? At most he would have received a year, if that. Ever since this whole thing started, I’ve been wondering why some low-grade thief like Griffin Finch would want that stuff anyway.”
“That’s first-class thinking. But still, Finch is a career criminal. He most likely thought he could earn a pretty penny on the black market. Hell, a guy like that might pull some shit just to see what he could get away with.”
“Maybe? I don’t know.” She fell into contemplation of the horrid drink in her hands.
“Gotta admit, I didn’t peg him as the type to go killing people though.”
“Oh, but he didn’t!” She was so certain, she caught Paul with his mug at his lips.
“No? So we don’t have to worry about him running around out there like Othercross’s very own Jack the Ripper?”
“No, for a couple of reasons. Finch is dead.”
Paul’s face shifted, shock flashing across it.
“Say that again.”
“It’s true. I saw his body not long ago. If I were to bet, the authorities are still working the crime scene.”
“I didn’t know that. How exactly did you end up stumbling across the scene? Tripping over two dead bodies in twenty-four is some real fucking luck.”
“It wasn’t luck, actually. After the triune closed the case this morning and Finch bolted out of the courtroom, Dane Hensley and I tracked his scent. Well, he did it in his wolf form, but we were together. It all just seemed too convenient. You know? I had a feeling all of this went deeper than a relatively minor theft. Now that Finch’s throat was cut, I’m sure of it.”
“Wait, Finch’s throat was cut too?” Paul searched the air for a moment, as if filing away the details in his mind. “That’s interesting. You may just have something here, Rhonelle.”
After the familiarity of him asking to call her by her first name, something was awfully professional about hearing him use her surname. Instead of sounding condescending, it felt more like admiration.
“I think so too.” She leaned over the table. “In fact, after Dane and I found Finch’s body, we followed his killer’s scent all the way to the steps of this building. Then the trail went cold. But Dane says that now he knows the smell, he’ll recognize the killer in an instant.”
Paul looked at her approvingly. It was perhaps the first time anyone had regarded her that way besides Dane. And he, she reminded herself, was not unbiased. So when the lead investigator of the OCJ registered her worthiness, it carried genuine weight.
“I’m gonna tell you something, Rhonelle.” Again, he pointed one of those big, square fingers at her, but it was less terrifying than before. “I’m gonna kick up hell to get the folks upstairs to expedite your paperwork. There’s no reason why you should waste your time as a junior.”
“Thank you, sir.” Heat settled in her cheeks in a very pleasant blush.
“But I’m curious...” He pursed his eyebrows together and clapped his mug down. “What were you doing with Judge Hensley?”
Her blush deepened, and she almost regretted sharing that part of the story. Looking up into his pale blue eyes, though, she saw not only a colleague but someone she felt she could trust. For all his gruff exterior, Paul had won her over.
“Promise not to tell?”
He chuckled a bit at her request and then crossed his heart and raised a palm. Emboldened, she shared something she never thought would come out within these walls.
“Dane told me that first day in court that he thinks we’re fated mates.”
“Really?” The older investigator leaned back against his seat, looking intrigued and not at all scandalized.
“Yeah. I’m still unsure what it all means myself. But he seems certain.” With sudden urgency, she added, “Not that anything happened while the case was active! I do have my ethics.”
“Of course.”
“But I have to admit, after the mistrial…” She beamed, but Paul rolled forward with the air of a father, putting a finger to his lips.
“Let me give you a nickel’s worth of free advice, Aurora. Never answer a question that hasn’t been asked.” He winked at her, and she let out a small laugh. “If I were you, though, I’d tread carefully. You don’t need whispers going on behind your back. Now, let’s get out of here. Big day tomorrow.”
They both pushed up to standing and walked to the door with a very different energy between them. Aurora was able to walk in his silence without buckling in terror.
And for the first time, the Judiciary felt like a place she’d be happy to spend her time.
Nineteen
The sun was barely peeking through her blinds when a knock on Aurora’s door pulled her from the depths of sleep. She tugged a pillow over her head, reluctant to answer. Chances were it was Kelly, still tipsy from a late night with Ronun. He’d had a positive effect on her, but it still wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
I’m in no mood for a sloppy conversation at this hour.
Maybe she could pretend to still be asleep. The knock came again. The floor vibrated under her bed, nudging her to full alertness.
“Okay, okay,” she muttered. “I can take a hint.”
If Hollow House was working to rouse her, it had to be something. She had to consider that the house was just anxious for her to start her first day as a full investigator.
The knob turned and the door creaked open just a hair. She pulled the pillow harder around her ears.
“Rise and shine.”
Oh, shit!
Language.
“Dane?” She bolted upright, shrouding herself in her blanket out of modesty, though he’d already had quite an eyeful of every secret part of her. She was certain her roommates wore next to nothing—if anything—to bed, but Aurora had always made a point of wearing well-pressed pajamas.
“Morning, beautiful,” he said softly as he tiptoed in, closing the door behind him. “Sorry to show up unannounced, but I wanted to bring you breakfast.”
He’d arrived bearing a small, grease-stained bag and two cups of coffee in a carrier. The coffee would certainly be welcome. The taste of the fetid mishmash she’d choked down the day before with Paul still lingered on her tongue.
“Wow, thanks.” In spite of herself, she couldn’t help but melt over how adorable he was, hunched in that way people do when they’re trying to be quiet.
It was one thing to have wild sex on a conjured bed in the middle of a windswept day, but another to have him on her own bed in her own room. It felt strangely illicit, and not in an entirely bad way.
“Come on.” She patted the mattress by her legs with a grin.
He hustled over and clambered up beside her, resting his back against the wall and stretching his legs out. Then he gave her a sultry appraisal.
“Damn, I’ve never seen anyone look so beautiful so early in the morning.”
In spite of how self-conscious she felt about her tangled bedhead, he actually seemed to mean it.
“Thanks.” It was going to take a while for her to navigate being complimented by this man. If he was going to stick around, that is. “What did you bring us?”
“Well, first of all…” He handed over a cup of coffee, which she gratefully accepted. Then, with a secret little grin, he passed her the white paper bag. Looking down, she let out a tiny squawk of delight.
“Donuts?”
“I hope that’s okay?”
“Of course, it is!” She almost never indulged in anything so decadent, but as today was a special day, she plunged her hand into the bag and came up with a simple glazed donut.
“Somehow, I figured you for a glazed gal.” He drew out one for himself and they tapped them together in a toast. “You know, I could treat you to a real breakfast if you let me stay the night.”
It was bashful and forward at the same time. The light confection caught a bit in her throat, and she looked over at the fully dressed hunk sitting on her bed. He looked for all the world like he was frightened of scaring away a bird. As her heart fluttered in the cage of her ribs, it wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
“Listen, Dane.” At her tone, his face sank. “No, no! It’s nothing bad. It’s just, well, in spite of what happened yesterday, I’m gonna need your patience. I’m really excited about whatever this is, but it’s all really overwhelming for me. So, can we maybe take things slow?”
“Oh, Aurora.” Again, her name on his lips sent a shiver through her. “I’m willing to take things however you want. Yesterday was amazing, but I knew it grew out of a very particular moment. So, yeah. Slow is good.”
“Really?” Could he get any more perfect?
“Of course. After all, we’ve got a lifetime together, so there’s no need to rush.”
She swallowed hard at that. True though it may be, eternity was still a lot to grapple with.
“Maybe we can slow down the way we talk about it, too, huh?”
Dane laughed. “Sorry. I’m just excited.” Then he looked at her as if he wanted to bathe in her gaze. “You’re exciting.”
“I think you’re exciting too, so...” She held up the remaining half of her donut for another toast. “To excitement?”
“To excitement.”
Like the gentleman he was learning to be with her, Dane waited outside the door without protest so she could get dressed. Not that she would have been wholly against having his eyes on her, but it was the decorum of the thing. Besides, they might have fallen back into bed, and that was far from taking things slowly.
With coffee and breakfast already consumed, Aurora only needed to pop into the kitchen to grab her lunch from the fridge, but as they drew close, terse whispers filtered out into the hallway. Not wanting to interrupt but also wanting to get her lunch, she peeked around the corner to find Nathan standing in the doorway to the basement, his arms crossed across his bare chest, scowling at Ryan. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, Ryan managed to scowl right back.
Clearly, they’d had a sleepless night, judging by their demeanor, and it wasn’t the joyous kind of late night Kelly insisted on treating everybody to. No, clearly they were ankle deep in some kind of tiff.
“What is it?” Dane whispered as Aurora tiptoed back to him.
“Nothing. I hope.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Looks like it. Poor guys.”
When she strolled up the center of the Judiciary hallway, it was with genuine purpose. After her talk with Paul, and a sunrise visit from an incredible, patient man, she felt like a goddess.
Instead of chiding herself for her lack of humility, she reveled in it. And why not? One should allow themselves a good day every once in a while. After tying herself in knots for the better part of a week, she deserved it. Pulling open the door, she found the office empty—as usual at this hour—and took a moment to survey her little kingdom.
Further, she started to formulate big plans for the weekend ahead. The power pulsing under her skin let her know she was ready. Come Saturday, she was going to attempt her first real resurrection. The one that would make her family proud and earn her that coveted shawl. She could feel it.
Percival was the next junior to arrive, and he seemed almost surprised to see her there. Coward that he always was, he didn’t say anything.
“Good morning,” she offered brightly, daring him.
“Morning,” he mumbled.
One by one, the room filled up. If there had been chatter in the hallway, it stopped as soon as the door opened and whoever it was saw her there. Only Gotho looked genuinely happy to see her.
The rest kept their heads down and waited. When all were present and accounted for, Aurora felt like she could run the entire world. Standing with the last of the paperwork from the stymied Abernathy case, she all but danced to the filing cabinet in the corner, which, as it happened, was directly next to Heather’s workstation.
“Somebody’s full of themselves this morning,” the blonde witch muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?”
For what felt like the first time, Aurora was ready to counter whatever the other girl had to dole out, head on. Heather looked up, her eyes hard.
“I said, somebody is full of themselves this morning.”
“Is that a problem?” Aurora was brazen in her confidence, so much that Heather visibly bristled at it.
“I don’t know, Rory. Is it gonna be?”
“Can’t imagine why. I’m not going to be in the pit too much longer, so there’s no reason to go starting fights.”
That tiny bit of bait cut through the room like the crack of a whip.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cleon demanded.
“After my conversation with Mr. Keenan yesterday, I’ve got reason to believe I’m not going to be a junior much longer.”
“Oh, what? Did he give you a day’s notice before firing you?”
Eric shot her a toothy grin, and the whole room burst into laughter. The tension had broken and something in it rattled Aurora. The sound of their mocking laughter was just a little too fresh, and she reacted defensively.
“For your information, Mr. Keenan told me he recognizes the hard work I’ve been putting in, and today he will submit the paperwork to make me a full investigator. So, yeah. You could say he gave me a day’s notice that my time as a junior is over.”
“Wait, what?” Heather looked livid, and Aurora looked her dead in the eye.
“You heard me.”
“Whatever,” Dion chirped. “We’ll see what happens when he actually gets here.”
“Yeah.” Zander was ever quick to get on whatever train Dion was steering. “Let’s wait ’til the old tiger gets here, and we’ll see who has the last laugh.”
“Fine by me.”
She couldn’t wait. In her mind’s eye, she saw him coming through the door without its customary bang. Those usually impenetrable eyes warm, with just the twinkle of the friendship they’d shared. It was the dawning of a new era, and with an ally like him, this office would become a completely different place for her.
When the clock chimed nine, Aurora was looking over some fresh photographs of Finch. The slash on his throat upset her, but she focused on cultivating her critical eye, scanning the scene for anything that might point her in a useful direction. After all, she was bound to have a hand in so
lving this much larger case.
Even with this new focus, her eyes kept flitting toward the clock. And she knew she wasn’t alone. The room was wound as tightly as a spring with everyone anticipating the opening of the door. Ten o’clock arrived and neither Paul nor District Attorney Widarin had darkened the threshold.
They must be out on the case. We should get a call any time now, asking me to join them.
By noon, some light snickering had begun. Aurora’s confidence was wavering, but she held fast. A few days Keenan hadn’t arrived until after lunch, looking the worse for wear after whatever night he’d had.
The others liked to joke that he’d been out drinking, but Aurora always gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was an investigator, after all, so it seemed more likely to her that he had been on a stakeout. Now that she counted him as a friend, she was willing to give him even more slack.
“Still no word, huh?” Gotho asked when he ambled back in from lunch.
It was a question that didn’t need answering.
Still, Aurora was getting worried. The crime scene photos of Finch and Abernathy, their throats cut, kept popping into her head, followed by Paul’s face superimposed over theirs.
She had told him as much as she knew, and whatever jokes the others might make about his laziness, he was dedicated to his job. What if he’d taken it upon himself to start the investigation in earnest? And what if that had ended the same for him as it did for Finch and Abernathy? The thought of it made her so sick that she tucked the pictures away and tried to forget them.
Am I responsible for Paul’s death?
The question rang over and over again in her head, growing louder with each passing minute. The closer the end of the day came, the more certain she was that he’d been hurt. She’d given him enough information to put him on the trail but not enough to protect him from whoever was out there.
Stepping into the hallway, away from all those keen ears, she pulled out her cell. It had been on silent all day, and she held out a secret hope that his name would flash on the screen. A missed call or even a text. But there was nothing. Taking a deep breath, she dialed his cell and waited.