by Erin Johnson
I felt 99 percent certain that running now would result in Peter never really relying on me again. I’d go back to my life of giving pet readings and struggling to eat and generally being stuck in a rut—but maybe that was preferable to what was about to happen.
“Jolene?”
I jumped, startled out of my dark musings.
“You coming?” Peter raised his brows.
“Mm-hmm.” I rose on shaky legs, combed my long hair forward over my face, and shuffled along behind him. The receptionist (who was luckily new since I’d worked there and didn’t recognize me) showed us to the gilded spiral staircase that led to the offices on the second floor, but I’d have known my way without her.
I’d worked here for over five years, after all, and ascended this staircase day after day. I remembered how proudly I’d climbed it my first day, so excited to be working at the prestigious firm. I’d practically floated up. Now, my legs felt like lead.
My heart thundered so violently as we walked out onto the floor that I pressed a hand to my chest, genuinely concerned I might be having heart issues. Some of the low walls that divided the space into cubicles might have been rearranged, but otherwise, it looked just the same as the last time I’d seen the place.
Clack!
“Ah!” I jumped back, startled.
“You… okay?”
Heart racing, I glanced around. A man in a cubicle right beside me froze, hand over his stapler, eyes round as he glanced at me.
“Oh… ha!” I breathed out a shaky chuckle. “Just a stapler.”
The worker flashed his eyes at me, then went back to his stapling.
Clack!
I glanced down and realized I held Peter’s arm in a death grip. I released it and shoved my hands in my pockets, then shot him a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He licked his lips. “You seem a little… on edge though. You sure you’re okay? I don’t mean to pry, but lately you’ve been a little—”
I waved a hand and cut him off. “I’m great—never better.” Or, you know, the opposite of that, but I just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
His uncertain gaze lingered on me a moment longer, then he turned, and we all followed the receptionist on through the maze of cubicles. I glanced to my right through my hair.
Big offices with glass walls and doors lined the side of the building that looked down onto the street. With their big windows, those were the coveted offices for the top performers. A few men and women sat behind their desks there or took meetings with clients.
I’d almost been one of them. When Emerson had told me I’d be promoted to partner, he’d also promised me the office in the center, right next to his, where a mustached man now sat.
I vaguely remembered the guy from my time at the firm—he’d been a new hire when I left. I smirked, bitterness tightening my jaw. Left was a kind term—when I’d been fired on the spot was more accurate.
The worker bees occupied the center cubicles, and the up-and-comings had smaller, darker offices along the sides of the floor, with windows that looked onto the closely neighboring buildings. The receptionist took a sharp left and headed toward the back of the building.
The conference rooms were back there and looked onto the small garden where I used to take breaks and chat with Zale when I first started. By the time I’d left, I didn’t take breaks anymore and worked through every lunch. I had to prioritize my work if I wanted to get ahead.
The blond led the way past a row of offices—including my old one. I slowed and glanced in, curious despite my best efforts to keep my face hidden. The desk was in the same spot, but the chair behind it was empty. I was moving to catch up with Peter, Daisy, and the receptionist when I glanced up and my mouth went dry. Zale, eyes down on a file in his hands, walked straight toward us.
Instinctively, I backed up, looking around for a place to hide. I doubted he’d let me go without a thorough explanation of what I was doing there. My mind raced and, maybe out of habit, I yanked open the glass door of my old office and dove inside.
It was as dark as ever. There was a single window, but the building next door was only about a foot away and kept the room always in shadow. I backed further away from the glass wall, trying to disappear into the shadows, and watched Zale pass by. He looked up, tucked the file under his arm, and paused to chat with a coworker.
He’d always been on me to spend more time building relationships and to let loose. Then again, he hadn’t been the one on track to make partner. He nodded goodbye, then moved past and disappeared among the cubicles.
I approached the glass wall. I rose on my toes and leaned right and left, scanning the milling office workers, trying to verify the coast was clear to go after Peter.
A footstep sounded behind me, and I froze.
I whirled and found the closet door open, light spilling out. I’d forgotten about the closet—it’s where I used to keep all my filing cabinets.
My stomach lurched when Eve stepped out, brown file in hand. Her eyes widened slightly. “I didn’t realize I had an appointment—can I help you or—” Her jaw dropped, and her expression darkened as recognition flitted across her face. “What are you doing here?”
25
EVE
Eve hugged the file close to her chest and edged behind the desk. “I’m calling security.”
Okay. That was too far. I rolled my eyes, too annoyed to be afraid anymore. I tapped the visitor badge on my chest that the receptionist had given Peter and me (and even Daisy, actually). “I’m here on police business, relax.” I stuck a hip out. “I’m not here to claw your eyes out.” I shot her a saucy look. “Though I think it’d be within my rights to do so.”
Eve paled.
I wasn’t actually going to do anything to her. For one, I didn’t have any magic and she could probably crush me with a single spell. But I had to admit it was satisfying to get a reaction out of her.
I sniffed and looked around, slowly pacing. “Wow. Didn’t waste any time swooping in and taking over my life, did you?” I let out a humorless chuckle, the irony really sinking in as I spoke.
“My job, my fiancé—you even took my office.” I gritted my teeth so hard, my jaw hurt. “Hope you’re happy.” I mean, I didn’t but I hoped she was picking up on the bucket of sarcasm I was throwing over every word.
Eve stood with the desk between us, face flushed, chest heaving. As I looked at her, a flood of memories and thoughts, most of them unwelcome ones I’d done my best to shove down over the years, washed over me. My hands trembled as adrenaline pumped through me.
I knew I should leave, especially since she seemed one wrong breath away from calling security on me, which would, after all, be the most humiliating outcome. But all those unanswered questions… I couldn’t hold back any longer.
I stepped toward her suddenly, and she flinched, her perfect bob swinging over her shoulders. “I’ve always wanted to ask you.” My voice trembled with emotion. “How did you find out I was a shifter anyway?”
She recoiled a little at the word “shifter.”
I sniffed. She couldn’t even bear to hear me say it. “Peeping through my windows?”
She looked up at that and met my gaze. She straightened her spine and glared at me. “You know, before you came along, Zale and I were close. He was about to ask me out. Then you started here, Miss Perfect!” She leaned across the desk and jabbed a slender finger at me. “I didn’t steal Zale—you did!”
I smirked and gestured at my wrinkled and stained outfit. “Well, clearly that Miss Perfect ship has sailed.” I crossed my arms and shook my head at her. “You must be so happy now that I’m out of the way.”
She lifted her little chin. “You know what? I am.” Her throat bobbed as she looked me up and down. “Though… I never thought you’d fall so low.”
I nodded. “Great, thanks.”
Her eyes darted to her desk, then back to my face. She smoothed her pencil skirt. “I just m
eant….” She licked her lips and looked at me with an earnestness that took me off guard. “I didn’t intend for this to happen to you. I just wanted Zale back… and for the company to see you weren’t the perfect little lawyer you pretended to be.”
I stuck a hip out, bristling at her comment. “You know, I only had to pretend to be something I wasn’t because of people like you, who’d use what I am against me. Being a shifter had nothing to do with my abilities as a lawyer—I earned every opportunity I got here through hard work.” I shook my head at her. “You know, if you’d spent half as much time and energy becoming a better lawyer—and person, while you were at it—as you did concocting that heinous curse you used on me”—I raised my brows—“You probably would’ve been the one getting the promotion.” I threw my hands up. “And who knows, Zale probably, too. He clearly moved on pretty quickly.” I threw a hand at the diamond engagement ring on her finger.
She looked down, then hastily covered it with her other hand. She kept her eyes down and her slender shoulders hiked toward her ears. “I—I didn’t make the curse.”
I snorted. “Oh all right, I’m sure that must’ve been a harrowing journey to the night market to buy it then. It’s where I live now, but you know—”
“If I knew what the curse was, I’d tell you.”
My mouth grew dry. “What?”
Her nostrils flared and her chest heaved, but she looked me straight in the eyes. “I—I didn’t know it’d take your powers. I didn’t even know, before I threw it on you and you—you turned, that you were a shifter.”
I’d momentarily transformed into an owl that night, right in front of the whole firm. This was a frankness I hadn’t expected from her. I was momentarily thrown off-balance.
“Then how do you know I’m powerless?”
She sighed and slumped into the leather chair behind the desk—the one I used to sit in. I moved a few steps closer.
“The night you came to my townhouse, I saw you struggling with things you could’ve just magicked, like climbing over gate. I knew then, but I hadn’t known ahead of time.”
She lifted her palms and looked at me, almost imploringly. “The guy just said it’d give me everything I wanted—Zale, the promotion, a raise, recognition—I didn’t know it’d leave you so powerless and ruin your life.”
Thoughts raced through my mind. I was too upset for several moments to even know what to say. I paced in front of the desk, opening my mouth several times to speak before words would form. “You used a curse on me without even knowing what it was? And that’s supposed to be an excuse?” I whirled on her. “It could’ve killed me for all you knew, don’t act like you cared!”
Her chin quivered.
I frowned. “And what guy?”
She shook her head. “I, uh—I don’t know who he was. He came to me one night when I walking home alone. It was dark, and I’d popped by the pub after work and wasn’t totally lucid.”
I arched a brow.
“I’d never seen him before, and I’ve never seen him after. He gave me the potion, told me to use it on you, and—he disappeared.”
I shook my head, winding up to tell her off, but I didn’t seem able to think of words strong enough. I bit my lip and resumed my pacing. I glanced over at her and sneered. “Well, I hope you and Zale are happy together—at least until he finds out what you did.”
Eve’s chin quivered harder, and tears tracked down her cheeks. “He knows.” Her voice came out quiet but it hit me like she’d shouted in my ear.
I spluttered, aghast. “What?” My ex knew she’d cursed me, could’ve killed me even, and didn’t care? Wow. I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought he’d cared about me.
She dropped her head into her hands and stared down at the stack of paper in front of her. “I told him. When things started getting serious, I couldn’t take the guilt anymore. I told him and he—he took some time to think about it, but he eventually understood.”
I licked my lips, my entire body thrumming with so many strong emotions I could hardly stand still. “Let me get this straight—he knows you ruined my life with a curse some guy down an alley gave you and he’s okay with it?” Did he ever have real feelings for me? “So glad you finally found your conscience.”
She jerked her head up out of her hands and leveled me with a teary look. “I’m sorry, Jolene.” Her throat bobbed and her voice trembled, but she wrangled it under control enough to speak again. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for a long time. I’m really sorry. It wasn’t my finest moment.”
“You’re sorry?” I roughly wiped away the tears that suddenly sprang from my eyes. Where’d they come from? Why was I crying now of all times? “Like that’s supposed to make it all better?”
She shook her head. “I know it doesn’t make up for what happened but… for what it’s worth, I am. I’m sorry.”
“Jolene?”
We both turned toward the wall of glass. Peter strode forward, head turning side to side as he scanned the office floor. “Jolene?”
I shot Eve one last tremulous look and wiped away my tears before turning on my heel and marching out of what used to be my office.
“Coming!”
Peter jumped when I suddenly appeared before him. “Where’d you go?”
“I had to take care of something,” I mumbled before marching past him. I pointed at the receptionist. “Lead the way.”
Her eyes widened for a moment, then she spun and walked back down the hall with Daisy in tow. Peter jogged up beside me. “Take care of what?”
It wasn’t like Peter to press me for information, but I didn’t blame him. I’d been acting erratic and shifty for days now. Still, I didn’t have the energy to come up with a realistic lie.
“I had to use the bathroom.”
Peter glanced behind him, then back at me, eyes wide. “But—that’s an office.”
I raised my brows. “Oops. Hope they pay the cleaners well.”
That stopped him in his tracks before he jogged to catch back up with me. “Hey.” He placed a hand on my shoulder as we walked. “You okay? You look a little shaken up.”
I gulped, my throat tight. “I’m fine.”
Daisy cast a glance back at me and whined, her dark eyes tight. Untrue. Even Daisy was giving me a wide berth.
I balled my shaking hands into fists, in no state to discuss my wild, racing emotions. Rage and confusion and hurt surged inside me. “I’m fine,” I ground out.
Daisy glanced back again and opened her mouth to call me out but I shot her such a ferocious look that she snapped her jaws shut again and turned to face the receptionist. I squared my shoulders. I just wanted to get questioning Emerson over with and get out of this place.
26
EMERSON WATTS
I squirmed in my chair as I sat beside Peter and Daisy. The dog took a chair so that she could see over the conference table, across from my old boss, Emerson Watts. I dipped my chin toward my chest and let my hair fall forward, hiding my face. I swiveled back and forth in agitation, my arms hugged tight across my middle.
Peter cast me an uneasy glance, then leaned forward and addressed Emerson. “Thank you, Mr. Watts, for agreeing to see us. We realize you’re a busy man.”
I looked between strands of hair at the portly older gentleman. His bushy brows were whiter than when I’d worked for him, and his jowls more quivery, but his dark eyes still held the same cunning glint. He smoothed down the front of his impeccably tailored suit and flashed Peter a bright smile.
“Of course, Officer Flint.” He spread his spotted hands. “We here at Watts, Baker & Low are friends of the police department. How can we help you? Need representation?” He chuckled.
He’d barely spared me a glance. I apparently looked so different he didn’t recognize me—or he’d already forgotten me. Peter and Daisy, on the other hand, kept shooting me nervous looks. I guessed my agitated swiveling and hiding behind my hair was putting them on edge—weird.
Peter cleared
his throat. “Actually, Mr. Watts, we’re here to ask you a few questions about your son, Jacob.”
I thought back to my time at the firm. Back then, Jacob had been a reckless teenager, which would now put him in his early twenties probably. Rumors had circulated the office that he was a thorn in Emerson’s side, always getting into scrapes, but that the old man still had hopes the kid would someday take over the family business.
Emerson froze, just a half second of unease, before he winked. “Well, then, should I call my lawyer?” He rocked back in his chair, chuckling. “Ah, just kidding. Ask away, officer, I’m here to help.” His words and his smile were all charm, but those hard, dark eyes bored into Peter.
Peter laced his hands together on the gleaming wood conference table. We were the only ones in the room, the rest of the seats at the long table empty. “A witness, Gregor Caron, was going to testify against your son. He alleged that Jacob crashed his airship into a warehouse at the docks several months ago. The crash started a fire that killed two men who’d been working inside. Did you—”
Emerson cut him off. “Perhaps you didn’t see in the file, officer?” His impossibly white teeth gleamed off the bright sunlight streaming in from the window. “Jacob reported the airship stolen earlier that evening, before the crash.”
Daisy growled. Lies.
Peter glanced at his dog, then licked his lips. “Gregor Caron ran over to help after the fire broke out. He said he could identify Jacob as fleeing the scene.”
I bounced my foot furiously and glared at my old boss through my hair. The boss I’d worked myself half to death to impress for years, and who’d fired me on the spot as soon as he found out I was a shifter. People like Eve and Emerson—they thought people like me, like those warehouse workers who’d lost their lives, didn’t count for anything.
Emerson’s smarmy smile faded, and his fleshy cheeks grew red and blotchy. “Gregor Caron… I believe that’s the same witness who brutally attacked Office Evan Davies, the deceased Officer of the Year, yes?” He leaned back and scoffed. “I hardly think the testimony of a man so clearly violent and mad as to attack an officer can be counted as reliable.”