Her eyes widened. “Oh, crap. You did call. I totally forgot.”
“It’s okay.” I leaned in to drop a kiss on her cheek. “You have a lot on your mind.”
She didn’t answer. Grief had hit her heavily these last few weeks. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and thanks to Gran’s reports, I knew she was barely sleeping.
“Where’s Gran?” I asked.
“She went down to Marlene’s for Bingo.”
“How the hell is she going to play Bingo? She doesn’t even have hands.”
Mom shrugged. “She says she likes to watch the old men fight about how their arthritis made their reflexes too slow to mark their winning squares.”
I lifted a brow. “Has Gran always been a gangster and Grandpa Cal just kept her in check?”
“What do you think?”
“I think if she was still on two legs, she’d be in prison.”
Mom snorted.
“What’s for dinner?” I asked, heading for the kitchen.
“It’s nearly midnight. You haven’t eaten dinner?”
The tone was one I knew well: worry and chastisement. My mom had a gift for multitasking parental emotions.
“I ate first dinner with Lila. Now, I want second dinner. Got anything good?”
I didn’t wait for an answer before yanking open the fridge and digging around. I came away with potato salad and carafels—a fae delicacy my mother sometimes made when she was missing her family.
I dug into the container, not bothering with a fork.
When I looked up, mouth overflowing, my mother was watching me with arms folded and brows raised.
“Manners, young lady,” she said.
I decided to let that argument go. We both knew I got my manners from dad.
“You all ready for tomorrow?” she asked when I’d adjusted to more ladylike bites.
“More than ready,” I assured her. “I got this.”
Her brows scrunched with worry. I decided to leave out the part about the goon in the alley just now. She was already worried enough, and his threats only made me want this more.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she began, and I cut her off, too sick of the same old argument to indulge her tonight.
“I do, Mom. And you know it.” I set the food aside. “The time for talking me out of it is long gone. Save your breath and just keep the carafels coming, okay?”
“Gem, I’m your mother. I’ll always talk you out of stuff that could get you killed.”
“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “You sent me on a playdate with the Diablo pack when I was six.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Bah. I knew you could handle those wimps.”
I grinned.
She smiled.
It wobbled.
“Pretend all the other recruits are the Diablo pack,” I said.
She arched a brow. “It’s not the recruits I’m worried about.”
“The instructors,” I said knowingly.
I’d done my research and already knew who to watch for. But I wasn’t going to tell her any of the dirt. It would only make things worse.
“Your father told me his time at the academy was the worst of his career,” she warned. “And he said it was nothing compared to how they treated the kids whose parents had been agents. Those trainers live for making your life hell. Once they find out you’re a legacy, they might decide to go harder.”
“I can handle it,” I insisted, but the fact that she’d broken her own rule and mentioned Dad meant she was seriously worried for me.
“Your magic—”
“Is a secret,” I finished. “I know, Mom. You and Dad spent my entire life drilling it into me. No one knows I can shapeshift.”
Shapeshifters had all but vanished from the supernatural community in the last few decades. No one knew why or where they’d been taken, but the mystery only made it more dangerous. Dad had spent countless hours with me over the years, teaching me how to hide my ability. And Gran had apologized more than once for unwittingly passing on that part of her DNA to mine.
Even now, anyone who asked about Gran’s strange transformation got a story about how some witch had cursed her. It was safer than the truth.
“Use your griffin,” Mom urged. “It’s safest.”
Because it was my father’s form. We’d let everyone believe it was my only form too. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to take his form since he’d died, but now wasn’t the time to tell her that. She needed to think I could be strong.
“I know,” I said gently, wishing I didn’t have to leave her alone.
My mother stared back at me. “You’re the only family I have left.” Rather than sadness or fear, fury gleamed in her fae eyes. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“No one would dare,” I said. “Not with you backing me.”
Magic glimmered behind her rage, and I nearly smiled at the feel of it filling the room between us. I’d never met a more powerful fae than my mom. I’d also never met a creature more protective. Combine those two and no bully had ever stood a chance against me. I was lucky, though. She hadn’t used it to coddle me. Instead, she’d forged me.
I was daddy’s girl, but I was Momma’s warrior.
And tomorrow, I’d use both of those elements to follow in the footsteps of the only man who’d ever loved us both.
“Come on,” I said, linking my arm through hers and guiding her back to the living room. “Let’s drink bourbon and watch reruns of Buffy. I’m in the mood for a Spike and Angel sandwich tonight.”
“I thought you were done with sandwiches,” she said, amusement gleaming.
“You’re not wrong. But I think for those two, I’ll always make an exception.”
Chapter Five
Wind whipped, unforgiving and sharp, as I made my way through the wet streets. New Orleans was either brutally hot or bone-chillingly soaked—there were no in-betweens. Today, bone-chilling seemed more apt anyway. I’d slept like shit thanks to last night’s mysterious stalker. Not that I’d been hurt when he’d grabbed me, but there’d been a vague promise for pain later if I reported in today. I’d already done what I could to secure my apartment. And encouraged my mother to reset her own booby traps. But if some lackey at the SSF thought shoving me around in an alley was going to stop me, he was sadly mistaken. If anything, it only made me more determined.
I walked with my head down and arms crossed tight in my new leather jacket, hoping my car was still safe when I got out of here. There was nowhere to store it on this side of town. Nowhere that wouldn’t result in four missing tires when I completed my three-month training program, anyway. I’d left it at my mother’s and made her promise to glamour it while I was gone.
“Wait . . . up.”
Gran’s voice was interrupted by a buzzy-sounding wheeze.
I slowed as Gran flew up and landed-slash-fell into my open palm.
“Shiznit, you walk fast,” she said, huffing.
“I walk like a person with legs,” I told her.
She glared up at me with her bug eyes. “Don’t sass me, girl.”
“Gran, I have to get going or I’ll be late.”
“I just wanted to wish you luck. Give those SSF lintlickers a run for their money.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“You break up with that warlock yet?”
“Z and I are over, yes.”
“Good.” She huffed. “That asscracker isn’t nearly good enough for you.”
“Gran.”
“What?”
“No one says asscracker.”
“I’m startin’ a trend.”
I shook my head. “I really need to go.”
Wings fluttered and Gran lifted off, hovering at eye level as she stared back at me. “I love you, kid. Make me proud.”
“Love you too, Gran. Take care of Mom for me, and don’t get eaten before I get back.”
“I’d like to see a motherfather try,” she said before buzzing away.
>
When she was gone, I hooked my bag higher on my shoulder and continued on.
As I got closer, my senses prickled, alert and wary.
Twice, I jerked my head upward to scan the rooftops. The hair on my neck stood up, and I was positive someone up there was tracking my journey. But when I looked, there was no one there.
I was seriously paranoid.
Irritated, I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and continued on.
When I found the building that matched the address I’d been given, I stopped in front of the door and frowned. A chain and deadbolt made it clear the front door was not an option. As I turned away, my gaze caught on a small sign on the front door. Jughfsld Ruthdkjgh.
It was written in elvish; an ancient language that had died out a couple hundred years ago. A test.
I brushed my palm over it, using my fae magic to transform the letters into something I could understand.
Visitors use rear entrance.
Booyah.
The alley was empty, and in the silence, I noted how unassuming the place looked from the outside. A nondescript building by the river. No human signs advertising its purpose. No traffic. The SSF was good at blending. Or just vanishing altogether. In fact, they were the best at making things disappear. It would be part of my training; not just defending the planet against evil monsters but making sure no one ever knew they’d been here to begin with.
I thought of my father, out on a gray, rain-soaked night much like this morning—alone. A lump formed in my throat and I resisted the urge to pat my thigh where my contraband was currently secured. Just because I couldn’t see a surveillance camera didn’t mean I wasn’t being watched.
Rounding the back of the building, my boots sloshed through puddles as I made my way to the loading dock entrance. Once there, I hesitated, heart pounding. This was it.
The moment everything changed.
There was no going back. Not to drag racing for cash on the weekends. Not to Lila’s Sandwich Shop. Nothing would ever be the same again. Then again, I decided, that was true whether I walked through these doors or not. No matter what, Dad was still gone.
With a wet fist, I banged on the door and stepped back to wait.
A moment later, the door opened.
Large, beady eyes peered out at me from the darkness within.
“Name,” said a gruff voice.
The smell of stale breath hit me, right along with a force of power I couldn’t quite place in my mental catalog of supes.
“Gem Hawkins, reporting for agent training.”
I squinted, trying to get a good look, but his wide, square-cut frame wasn’t anything I recognized. Ogre? Giant? According to common belief, both of those had long been extinct. But the smell and size weren’t anything I’d ever met before.
“Ugh.” He snatched my duffel bag and yanked it open, rummaging through it with fat fingers.
“Excuse me,” I said, but he didn’t answer.
When he finished, he handed the bag over again.
“What the heck was that for?” I asked.
“Ugh ugh,” the beast grunted and promptly slammed the door in my face.
What the hell?
I debated knocking again but then another door opened farther down and a woman stepped out. Her blue glasses and bright red lipstick stood out against the dreary backdrop. She motioned at me to join her.
“Hi, you’re Gem?”
I nodded, registering her inner feline as I got close.
“I’m Starla. I’ll be escorting you through check-in this morning. This way.”
She held the door for me, and I stepped inside, grateful to be out of the rain. The moment the door shut behind me, I shuddered. Goose bumps rose along my arms and neck and dizziness washed over me.
“What the . . .”
I braced a hand on the wall for support.
My awareness of Starla’s animal vanished. I could no longer sense her supe signature. Nor could I sense any sort of magic in myself at all.
“Oh, right. Forgive me, I always forget what a shock it is the first few times.” I stared at her in confusion. “The training academy is spelled to strip all magics from its recruits.”
“Seriously?”
The dizziness began to clear but the sense of wrongness remained.
“Certain training areas allow its use to return to you, but in the dorms and halls and the like, we don’t allow it. It’s for the safety and protection of all.”
I grimaced, not sure I quite agreed with her after seeing the ogre dude at the first door. What if he decided I made a perfect midnight snack?
“Come, let’s get you settled and out of those wet clothes.”
Starla led the way, and I followed, still a little unsteady as we navigated the labyrinth of halls. We passed a few closed doors marked as dorms. Finally, Starla led us into an admin area and into a room marked “Medical.”
“Go ahead and get out of those clothes and put this on. I’ll send the nurse in shortly.”
Starla was gone before I could reply.
My clothes weren’t a big deal. The cell phone taped to my thigh, however, was. I’d just peeled it off—without yelping at the sting it caused—and stuffed it into the bottom of my duffel when the door opened.
A male fae slipped in and then quickly shut the door again. His brown eyes were wide as he stared back at me, surprise then shock then fear washing over his expression. I was hyper aware of the thin hospital gown I wore, but his eyes never strayed to my body. His panic was evident in the way his pointed ears twitched with each breath.
“Can I help you?” I asked as his gaze darted around the room.
“Listen, if they ask, I was with you last night, okay?”
“Uh—”
Before I could ask exactly what that meant—and what sort of alibi he was hoping for—the door opened again and an older woman in a white lab coat entered. If she was a supe, I had no idea what. My lack of fae senses made it impossible to read her, though if I had to guess, I would have gone with mouse shifter.
“Hello, I’m Leslie, the on-staff nurse here. I’m here to conduct your entrance exam.” Her polite smile faltered when she spotted the male hovering beside me. “Oh, I didn’t realize we were doubling up,” she said uncertainly.
The male beside me tensed.
I flashed an apologetic smile at Leslie. “I guess Starla didn’t realize there was someone in here already.”
“Huh. Well, we can’t exactly do exams in pairs, can we?”
“Not like I haven’t seen it.” The male fae spoke up, and when I looked at him in confusion, he winked.
Leslie flushed. “Oh, I see. You two know each other then?”
“Uh, yeah.” I caught his side eye and then turned back to her. “We sure do.”
My lie was terrible so far.
For good measure, I grabbed his hand in mine and added, “Pretty well, in fact, after last night.”
I could hear his sigh and wondered what the hell he’d done last night to so desperately need an alibi today.
“I see.” Leslie looked down at a clipboard. “Well, that answers at least two questions on my list.” She flipped through papers. “Gem?” She looked up at me for confirmation.
I nodded.
“And you are?” she asked the male.
“Milo,” he answered quickly. “Milo Mercer.”
She made a few notes and then looked up again. “Since we’re all here, let’s go through the Q and A portion, and then I’ll split you up for the physical. Gem, how long have you known Milo?”
“Uh, since last night?”
Leslie blinked at me. “I see.”
Judgment. So much judgment in her tone. Whatever Milo was running from, it better be good.
“And did either of you have any other . . . partners besides each other in the past ninety days?”
I frowned, thinking of Z. “One.”
“I see. And Mr. Mercer?”
“Zero.”
Liar.
One look at his guilty expression and I knew he was hiding more than just whatever he needed covered up from last night. Maybe it was my own lack of an interesting social life, but I was intrigued.
“And do either of you have any significant other, er, besides each other, waiting for you when you complete the training program?”
“No,” Milo and I said at the same time.
“And do you both understand that when you take the oath to become an agent for the SSF, you renounce all rights to choose a partner or a mate unless approved by the SSF?”
“Whoa, what?” I said at the same time Milo muttered, “Yes.”
The nurse arched a brow at me. “You haven’t read the handbook?”
“I guess I missed that chapter.”
She frowned. “If this isn’t something you can swear to, Miss Hawkins, I don’t know if the training program is a good fit for you.”
Milo squeezed my hand.
“I agree,” I said begrudgingly.
Not a big deal. You’re not here for a mate, I reminded myself.
But the rules and nosy-ass questions were really starting to piss me off.
After that, the nurse ran through things like medical history and our supe heritage. Milo was full fae while I was half-fae, half-shifter.
“What kind of shifter?” the nurse asked me.
“Griffin.”
Her brows rose, but she marked it down. “Don’t see many of those anymore. I think the last one we had was . . . ?” Her brow furrowed while she thought.
“Vic Hawkins,” I supplied. “My father.”
“Oh, my, I didn’t realize . . .” Her expression fell. “I was so sorry to hear about his passing. My condolences.”
I didn’t answer.
Milo squeezed my hand again.
“Well, I think I have everything I need,” Leslie said. “Milo, why don’t you wait outside while Gem and I finish up in here.”
“Sure.” Milo shot me a grateful look. “Thanks,” he whispered on his way out.
Leslie ran through a few physical exercises then a few mental ones meant to test whether my fae magic was really stripped. When I couldn’t see through a glamour she claimed was really a Jane Washington fantasy novel spelled to look like a bedpan, she seemed satisfied.
When I was given the all clear, Leslie handed me a set of clothes.
Kiss of Death (Supernatural Security Force Book 1) Page 4