Eat Your Heart Out: A Romance Charity Anthology
Page 59
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. Just catch the person who did this." There was a hardness in the dryad’s voice that Jenna would find intimidating if she hadn't expected it. "Whoever it is has no respect for the plants they're hurting."
"Nor for the dryads who tend them," Jenna supplied.
Sharon shrugged. "I doubt they're thinking about that. They're not stealing enough of the plants to cause us any harm. Most of the thefts aren't doing much damage to the plants either. It's almost as if they know how much they should be doing in order to not kill anyone or anything, but they don't respect the plants enough to cut them in the right way."
"Do you have any idea why someone would do that?" Jenna asked. Working out why someone was doing something like this was often the hardest part of her job. She didn't always need a motive in order to catch someone, but it always helped.
"No idea." Sharon sunk down onto the sofa opposite her. "If we did, then perhaps we might know how to stop them."
"Is there anything else you can tell me about the thefts?" Jenna asked. "Anything the thief left behind..."
Sharon shook her head. "As far as I know, there's nothing else. I'm sorry, I know it would be helpful."
"Please don't be sorry. It's not your job to hunt the culprit down, it's mine. And them not leaving anything behind is as much of a clue as them leaving a footprint, it tells us something about the person we're searching for."
"I hope you're right, and that you find him soon."
"That's what I'm aiming for," she promised, meaning every word. While their boss might not be the most effective, everyone she'd met while talking to the staff so far had been lovely and didn't deserve what was happening to them.
She would keep her promise to them and work out who was stealing their plants. What happened after that was up to the High Council, but she knew there would be consequences, and was glad of it.
Chapter 5
Baxter
Baxter was fuming, and from the expressions on his fellow dryads' faces, they were too.
"Good morning everyone," Bradshaw said, plonking himself in the chair at the head of the meeting table and avoiding everyone's eyes.
Baxter did his best not to roll his in response. How could this man be in charge of them all when he clearly didn't care about what was going on in the slightest.
"I've invited Ms Sunangel to join us so she's aware of the overnight developments," he said, gesturing vaguely in Jenna's direction.
She flashed him a tight-lipped smile, but otherwise remained silent. It seemed that as the investigator, she was as frustrated as they were that there had been more thefts overnight.
Baxter tried to ignore the delightful smell of the woman sitting next to him. It wasn't that she smelled of anything unusual, far from it. There was a scent of sunshine and flowers, both something he was used to from his job here, and yet somehow, it was different. Intoxicating almost.
"What's missing?" Bradshaw asked, bringing him back to the matter at hand. He wasn't going to manage to get anything done if he was focusing on Jenna constantly. "There's a full inventory on this list," Sharon said, thrusting a piece of paper towards their boss with an expression of tense disgust to go along with it. She was even more frustrated than he was about the whole situation.
"May I have a copy too, please?" Jenna asked. "And if anyone has anything they think will help in my investigation, no matter how small it may seem, please don't hesitate to tell me. I want the most complete picture I can get so I can help you better."
Several of the dryads grumbled under their breath, probably disliking the idea that someone who wasn't one of them was investigating.
"Yes, yes. All help Ms Sunangel," Bradshaw muttered. "In fact, why doesn't one of you become her liaison. That will make it easier."
Stunned silence fell over the room as his words sunk in. Baxter tried not to let annoyance become his motivator, but couldn't help but be frustrated. Why was Bradshaw passing off his responsibility onto one of them?
Next to him, Jenna hung her head, no doubt uncomfortable with the silence and believing that it meant no one wanted to work with her, when it was actually far from the truth.
"I can do it," Baxter said, drawing everyone's attention to him.
But he didn't care about what the others were thinking, all he cared about were the grateful brown eyes that felt like they could peer into his soul without even trying.
"Everything is going well in my sector, other than the thefts. I can spare the time for Ms Sunangel to make sure she's up to speed on everything she needs to be."
"Thank you, I appreciate it," she said.
Beneath the table, her leg brushed against his, sending a jolt of want through him. He didn't know whether or not she'd done it on purpose, but he liked it all the same.
Feeling brave, he pushed his own against hers.
Jenna looked away and bit her lip.
He tried not to let the satisfaction enter his expression lest the others wonder what was going on, and if there was something more to his offer of being the liaison.
They didn't need to know that he did have an ulterior motive. The more time he got to spend with the delightful woman next to him, the more certain he could be about whether or not she was his mate.
And the more chances he had to act on it if she was.
"Excellent. If that's all, then I have work to attend to," Bradshaw said, rising to his feet and leaving the meeting room before anyone could stop him.
"Is he always like that?" Jenna asked him.
Baxter shrugged.
"He didn't used to be," Sharon answered for him. "I remember a time when he was as involved with the work here as any of the rest of us. But he lost someone close to him and nothing seemed to matter any more. His complacency is frustrating, but it's not coming from a bad place." She softened a little as she spoke.
"Is that why you don't report him?" Jenna asked.
Baxter nodded. "He can be infuriating at times, but he does normally still do right by us all eventually. I think we're all hoping that something will change for him and he'll return to the man he used to be."
Simon, the dryad on his left snorted. "I don't see that happening. Witches can be the worst for holding on to their emotions."
"You shouldn't be so quick to judge an entire species," Jenna responded tartly.
"Because we're not judged for what we are?" Simon retorted.
"That's also inexcusable," she responded evenly. "But I've seen more than one workplace destroyed by species prejudice and I'd rather like that to stop being the case."
A small smile twisted at Baxter's lips to see Simon called out on his ridiculousness. He'd been this way since school, and while several people had tried to call him out on it, none of them had managed as succinctly as Jenna had managed.
"I have work to do. Don't expect my cooperation." Simon scraped back his chair and stormed out of the room.
"Ignore him," Sharon said. "He'll help."
"It doesn't matter if he does," Jenna responded. "I'm going to get to the bottom of the thefts whether he wants my help or not. It's my job, and I'm going to do it."
"Thank you." She smiled at the other woman. "If you don't need me for anything, I'm going to go back to my tree."
Jenna nodded. "That's fine by me. I'll pop by if I need to ask you anything."
Sharon left the meeting room followed by the other dryads who had been in attendance at the meeting.
"That went well," Jenna muttered.
Baxter chuckled. "Did you expect it to?"
"Not really. I've seen enough problems like this to know how it goes. Everyone is on edge because there's a problem, not realising that opening up a little bit can solve it faster."
"Doesn't that make your job harder?" He turned so he was facing her more fully, barely resisting the urge to shuffle closer still.
"Of course, but I'm good at my job, even when people are being difficult."
"Do you think it's one of the
m?" he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.
"Hmm." She pushed a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I don't think so, but it's not impossible. I've seen it happen before, normally when an employee is unhappy about something in the workplace and they want to draw attention to it. This case doesn't seem to be like that, though."
"How can you be so sure?"
"The list." She tapped the piece of paper. "Every one of you here has suffered the exact same amount of thefts. That doesn't speak of someone wanting to draw attention to a problem. Whether they mean to or not, people like that don't consider themselves, or their friends, equally and will always damage other people's property more than their own. I find it much more likely that the thief is coming from outside the greenhouses. Or at the very least, outside the department."
"But why?" he asked, desperate to understand the reason why his tether-plant had been harmed so badly.
"I'm not sure. But I hope we can find out."
"I hate not knowing," he admitted. "I think it's the worst part."
She placed a hand on his arm, comfort radiating from the spot where they touched.
"There might not be a reason," she warned him. "There is a chance that whoever is doing this is just trying to make you uncomfortable, I've seen it happen before."
He laughed uncomfortably. "You're not filling me with confidence."
"I'm sorry, I'm not very good at lying." She glanced away as if she couldn't look at him as she said as much.
He longed to reach out and touch her, but resisted. He needed to ask her on a date, but was worried about the answer. What if she didn't feel the same bond that he could? It was hard to tell what someone else was thinking, even if they were acting like they were interested.
"We should get going," she muttered. "There's a lot to do."
Baxter nodded, his words stuck in his throat as she tidied up her things.
Perhaps now wasn't the right time, but by the end of the day, he was going to have found a way to ask her on a date. Then, he'd know the answer to how she was feeling about the bond between them.
Chapter 6
Jenna
Hunger rumbled in her stomach, and she decided it was best if she took a break from her investigation to slate it. Normally, she would leave the premises to have her lunch, but this place was so beautiful that she didn't want to leave.
She settled herself under one of the trees after checking with the closest worker that she wouldn't be doing any harm to their work if she sat under it. She pulled out her box of salad, almost at once disappointed by the healthy food she'd packed herself. She always seemed to do this. She wanted to eat all of the unhealthy things, but tried to make herself eat the healthier stuff instead.
"I see you like tomatoes," Baxter said from behind her.
She startled. "Sometimes."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, I thought you'd seen me. Do you mind if I sit?"
"If you'd like." The words were out before she could think about them, much like most of her words surrounding the man in front of her. She couldn't explain the strange tug towards him that she felt every time they met one another.
Feeling it once could easily have been a fluke. But every time across multiple days? It just didn't seem practical to think that it was just coincidence.
"May I try one?" he asked.
"Try what?" She frowned as she attempted to work out what he was on about.
"Your tomatoes."
"Is that not cannibalism?"
Baxter laughed, a deep and joyous sound that filled her with a surprising amount of peace. "Why would it be?"
"I don't know how being a dryad works, but if I were presented with a hummingbird on a plate, I would feel it crossed the line," she said, only realising after that she'd revealed what kind of shifter she was. Normally, she kept it quiet while working with new people, she often found they were dismissive of her due to the small size of her animal.
"Not like that," he assured her. "I even eat the tomatoes from my own plant."
Her eyes widened. "If you don't mind me saying, I find that rather surprising." Though admittedly, she'd never really thought about it.
"I don't mind you saying," he assured her. "I can understand how it might be confusing for someone who isn't a dryad."
"So, how do your tether-plants work?" she asked.
"You're asking a good question. The honest answer is that we don't really know."
She offered him her salad box and he picked out one of the tomato pieces. She watched attentively as he popped it into his mouth.
He grimaced. "They're not ripe enough."
"Oh. I just bought it from the supermarket." She'd always assumed that meant that she had the produce at its best, but apparently, that wasn't the case.
"They often pick the fruit that looks the best, not the ones that taste the best." He paused as if he was going to suggest something.
Should she ask him to show her a thing or two about tomatoes? She never thought she’d be able to use that as an opportunity to flirt with someone, but there was something to be said for making the most of situations that presented themselves.
"Are you free tonight?" Baxter asked before she could say anything.
"I am."
He took a deep breath. "I was planning on staying and keeping watch tonight, if you wanted to join me."
"Oh." She tried not to let her disappointment show on her face, but she didn't think she did a good job. She picked at her salad as a way of distracting herself, but despite her hunger, she didn't really find that it worked. Her attention was almost completely fixated on Baxter and what his suggestions might mean.
"But I was thinking that we could have a picnic and I could show you what a real tomato is supposed to taste like."
That statement shouldn't send her mind to the filthy places it was doing, but apparently, that was what her mind thought of when it came to Baxter's tomatoes.
"I'd like that. Will anybody else be around?" She crossed her fingers that he said no, even though that might make the primary objective of catching the thief in action a little bit easier.
But she wanted to spend alone time with Baxter even more than she wanted to catch a thief, which was certainly a first for her. She wasn't normally the type of woman to put a man over her job, even one like Baxter.
"No, it'll just be us. Bradshaw wouldn't approve overtime for keeping an eye on the greenhouse overnight, so we have to volunteer amongst ourselves if we want to keep an eye on things after everyone's gone home for the evening."
"I'm sorry, what?" she demanded more loudly than she meant to. "How can he expect to get to the bottom of what's going on when he doesn't give the most basic protection? Please tell me you still have security working here at night?" she asked.
He nodded. "Some of the plants are really rare, we'd never get away without any. But it's only a couple of witches at night, they mostly trust that the wards they have around the outside of the greenhouse to alert them to any problems."
"I have a few choice words for your boss," she muttered.
He chuckled in response. "Don't worry, we've all had them too."
"So, you drew the short straw for tonight?" she asked.
"No, I'm choosing to do it. Simon will refuse to, and Sharon has a family wedding coming up."
"A wedding? Do dryads do those?" As far as she was aware, most paranormals saw the events as completely optional and most didn't bother at all. She was surprised that dryads were different.
"Sometimes. It was more common before interspecies mating became more common. I think most of the people who do it just want to have a party to celebrate their love, which is kind of fair, if you think about it. The humans get to have one, why shouldn't we?"
"I've never really thought about it like that before," she admitted. "Do you want a wedding?"
He shrugged and met her gaze, his eyes blazing with something she couldn't define. "I've always assumed I would, with the right person."
Maybe it was the slight absurdity of having a fated mate in the first place. She understood the concept, and was yet to meet a pair who weren't perfectly suited, but why would the universe reveal it before the couple in question had gotten to know one another?
But even the humans said that love didn't make sense, and true mates were part of that when it came down to it.
"I've never thought about a wedding," she said, realising she'd been silent a little bit too long. "It's not something shifters do."
"I guess your mating is a little bit more obvious than ours."
"I can't say I know, I'm not mated," she responded.
Yet. The word sprung to mind instantly and refused to leave.
"I do have a question about that," he said slowly.
"Yes?"
"You said you're an avian shifter?"
"A hummingbird, yes."
"How do you mate?"
A blush stole to her cheeks. "I imagine in much the same way you do. If you need it describing to you, then perhaps I might suggest looking at some biology books in the library..."
He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I wasn't clear. I meant to seal the mating bond. I heard that most shifters bite, but isn't that hard with a beak."
"Ah, I see. We scratch instead of bite."
She held out her hand and partially shifted it. Her fingers lengthened and cursed, creating sharp talons. Jenna flexed them to show him what she meant.
"It isn't to scale. I'd be one terrifying hummingbird if it was." She laughed even at the thought of it.
"I can imagine the headlines now," he joked, making a text box in the air with his hands. "Giant hummingbird spotted over Basingstoke..."