The name of Katerina's suspected accomplice dropped like a gavel. Seconds of ringing silence ensued as three pairs of eyes tracked toward Gale, who'd stopped typing. Ronin's attention remained on Kaliope.
"Ms. Barnes."
She faced him, chewing on her lip.
"Are you certain? You're leveling a serious accusation. There is no room for uncertainty. Not even a speck of doubt."
Kaliope straightened her posture with effort. "It was him. At the estate, he kept watching me. Inside the house. Outside on my walk with Juniper. I brushed it off as him being an arrogant asshole, but something about it made me uneasy."
Inola scratched her head. "Maybe he was worried about Katerina's charm?"
Gale shot up, his chair wheeling away from him and crashing into the wall. "Are you seriously considering this? Her brain's scrambled. Ballister's the heir of Falgor House. He wouldn't risk his name and reputation by sabotaging his own House. What reason—?"
Kaliope scuffed. As much as she liked Juniper, she held no favor toward the woman's husband. "To silence the opposition. Main Houses have done worse to excise detractors from minor branches in the past. The whole system's skewed in favor of one side, and you know it."
Gale ignored Kaliope with effort, his imploring gaze on Ronin. "They're our clients. We're supposed to investigate who stole the jewel and where it is. If the Falgors were scheming to excise the Minor House, why would they hire us? And why kill Katerina?"
"Madam Falgor hired us. And we're not accusing them of murder."
Kaliope looked at him, confused. "We're not? He was her accomplice—"
Ronin recapped the evidence they gathered while Kaliope was out and briefly explained the laws behind charm magic. How enchantments lost their power after the caster's death. Once Kaliope was on the same page, he reviewed the day he informed Madam Falgor of his theory external forces might be responsible for the theft.
"Ballister excused himself before I mentioned it." And now Ronin understood why. He wanted to monitor the loose thread—Kaliope.
Besides the murder, the rest of the case aligned except for one thing. Ballister could have plotted without his mother's knowledge. Leaked the information about the ring to the press as a decoy. But, if he was the mastermind, and his motive was to rid his House of their minor branch, how'd he know Katerina was a charm mage?
The door swooshed open, and Dr. Joriah strode in with his nurse. Despite Kaliope's protest, they hauled her out of the room. Ronin watched their departure, eyes narrowed.
What is it about you?
Gale remained up in arms, shaking with fury. "That human—"
Ronin silenced him with a withering glare. "Her name's Kaliope Barnes."
~
Kaliope sulked at the ceiling of her room. Labeled a flight wrist by Dr. Joriah, he had his orderlies strap her to the bed. Her fervent promises to behave fell on disbelieving ears, and the doctor proposed a second option—a mild sedative.
The door opened, and Kaliope adjusted as far as her restraints allowed to give her caregivers a nasty piece of her mind. Ronin strode in instead.
He was out of his jacket and tie with the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows. The silver bracelet at his wrist accentuated the appeal of his veined, muscular arms. And when he raked his long fingers through his hair, Kaliope's eyes followed the tightening and loosening of the shirt over his chest.
"Ms. Barnes?"
Startled, Kaliope dashed the mental drool from the side of her scandalous imagination. Perhaps her procedure wasn't a resounding success, and a piece of the charm still rotted her brain. Recovering from her lapse in sanity, she forced a smile to mask the discomfort of lying restrained with Ronin towering over her like a predator looming over a hapless prey.
"To what do I owe the visit, sir?"
Ronin contemplated the restraints. "They suit you."
Kaliope opened her mouth to say, bite me, and closed it. Ronin's gaze slowly moved to hers. Her mouth dried at the glint in his eyes. Words failed her as she lay ensnared by them.
Ronin raised a brow. "Perhaps I should buy a pair...for your desk."
Kaliope's stomach quivered at the short pause in his sentence. Thrown off balance by possible innuendo, she stared at him. Ronin's unblinking gaze fixed on her, and Kaliope became acutely aware of her heartbeat thumping in her ears. Of his scent crashing over her in heady notes of fresh bergamot and spicy cinnamon. The overwhelming aroma registered on her tongue, sharp and intoxicating.
Heat rushed up Kaliope's neck into her face. She quickly grabbed her wits about her, breaking out of the alluring spell. The scent would haunt her memories for days.
"Ms. Barnes?"
"What?"
Ronin's brow lifted at her curt response.
"Sorry." Kaliope tried to sit up. "These damn restraints." She rattled them, desperately wanting to escape the room and the sensations racing through her body.
Ronin unbuckled her ties, the action bringing him too close. Kaliope inhaled shallow breaths, fearing she might succumb again. Seated upright on the bed, she rubbed her wrists. Eyes averted, Kaliope addressed Ronin.
"Do you believe me? About Ballister?" Work. Talk about work. Work was safe. Whatever that was a while ago wasn't.
Ronin shoved his hands in his pockets and craned his head toward the ceiling. Kaliope caught herself and hurriedly looked away as her eyes roved the length of his neck.
"We can't be sure about anything until we approach him. But if we do," Ronin pinned her with his gaze, "what do you think the outcome will be? And if word reaches the press, we questioned a main branch of a Great House about framing the Minor House to fabricate grounds for expulsion. Then mix in the speculation of murder. Imagine the fallout. And if it turns out you were mistaken..."
Kaliope opened her mouth and closed it. Her grounds for defense were shaky. Her gut told her she was right, but it wasn't proof. This wasn't a mere questioning of her boss's handling of a soda commercial. Or his casting blame on a low-level subordinate because he screwed up. Kaliope was accusing the heir of Falgor House of breaking his House's constitution.
As much as most clauses protected the Main House, Ballister's plot was unpardonable. If proven beyond a glimmer of doubt. But what was her word against a witch? And like Ronin said about the backlash. Gone were the days of unemployment being her most eminent concern. Plus, Kaliope's livelihood wasn't the only one at stake. There was also the team to consider.
Ronin nodded, accepting her silence as agreement. "I'll update the Matriarch." He turned to leave.
"Boss. Don't." Kaliope's distrust in her judgment was an unfamiliar experience. Usually, her overconfidence bordered on arrogance. But she recognized her present limitations. She was out of her depths, out of her world. "My memory's still foggy." It was a lame excuse to buy time. "Maybe the charm..."
"Katerina's dead. Whatever effect she had on you, it's gone. You doubt yourself, and I suspect it's not a common occurrence."
"It's just—" Kaliope clenched the sheet in her fists. "You were right. If I mess up, a disciplinary hearing is the least. We're talking about centuries-old feuds and animosity. A woman's dead."
Kaliope never witnessed anyone die over a typo or a missing invoice. She'd gotten into a situation way above her usual reach. Handling Gale's oh, it's a human, kind of leering like she was a bug was one thing. A lynch mob of high-society witches was another. And not to mention the repercussions for the team. The company. Ronin. Kaliope shook her head.
It's too much.
"Ms. Barnes."
Kaliope regarded Ronin. His expression betrayed no reservations.
"I trust your judgment. Will you trust mine?"
"Why?" Kaliope backpedaled. "I mean, why trust me with this? Days ago, you said you didn't. What changed?"
Ronin rubbed the nape of his neck. "Forget what I said. For the team to work, we need to rely on each other. So, I'll trust you hold the team's best interest at heart, and you trust us to have your back."
Kaliope chewed her lip in contemplation. She hadn't meant to call Ronin for help. Yet, he and Inola raced to her aid. They saved her life. As unfamiliar as self-doubt, their camaraderie was also a foreign experience. Kaliope fussed with the sheets, straightening an invisible crease. He'd called her part of the team.
Don't make a big deal. Don't make a big deal.
Her position at Sage Tower wasn't clear of all opposition. "Gale wants to put a knife in said back."
"He's squeamish around blood. He'd sooner hack your electronic devices. Perhaps clear your browser history to be safe."
Eh?
Kaliope stared after her boss as he exited the room. Did the ever-humorless Ronin McIntyre attempt a joke?
~~~
To read the entire first season, along with Seasons 2 and 3, join me on Ream. The link's in my bio on the home page. Hope to see you there.