Kaliope rolled her neck, massaging the tension in her shoulder. She paused, watching Ronin in his office. He'd withdrawn from the team somewhat in the past couple of days, burying himself in work. It wasn't unlike his habit, but there was something off with him. More distant.
"Worried about the boss?"
Kaliope jumped at Inola's question. The fox demon snuck up on her from behind. Kaliope sniffed. Grabbed her jacket.
"Worried? Why would I be worried? Lycans don't die easily. A little paperwork shouldn't kill him." But she was worried about Ronin. The man shouldered the burden of the entire team. The entire company. He was actively involved in Occult cases, but he oversaw the Noccult departments as well. When did he sleep? Even when the others worked late, they always left him behind, and he was always the first in the next day.
If he left at all.
A thought struck Kaliope. "Why doesn't he have an assistant?"
"The boss is a control freak. He has a department head for the Noccult division, but that's it. Inola smiled, tilting her head as she eyed Ronin and then Kaliope, who was clumsily shrugging into her coat. "He's also single. FYI."
"Tch. He's a workaholic. What else would he be?"
Despite her nonchalance, questions lingered about Ronin's intentions toward Inola. And what about the incident in the ward? Was it all in her mind? And her obsession with Ronin's scent. None of it made sense.
Kaliope grabbed her bag and turned away from Ronin. A weird sensation crept along her neck, and she peered over her shoulder. Frowned. He wasn't focused on them, buried in his work, but she could have sworn he'd been watching her.
Inola grabbed Kaliope's arm. "Have a drink with me?" Her eyes sparkled a jewel green.
"You're not up to mischief, are you?"
Inola feigned a scandalized look. "Would you deny me my nature?"
They were waiting for the elevator when the melodic voice of the PA announcer informed them, "Caution. Portal opening in three, two, one."
A flash of light and a ding later, the door swung open, and a man emerged wearing a black and white suit. Inola stiffened at Kaliope's side. His piercing gaze penetrated Kaliope's soul, leaving an unsettling feeling in its wake. A sense of danger emanated from him, like a wild animal ready to pounce at any moment. He inclined his head in greeting before he veered toward their office.
"Know him?"
Inola shoved Kaliope into the elevator. They didn't speak again until the door closed, and they started their descent.
"He's Matthias' assistant and bodyguard, Vincent." Inola's entire demeanor changed, her presence swelling to fill the space.
"You feel it too, don't you? Like Ronin's hiding something."
Inola looked up at her with the incredible gray eyes of her Northender heritage. "You're very intuitive." She blew at her bangs. "Matthias probably has him investigating the other members of the Assembly incognito."
"Shouldn't we—?"
"Matthias wouldn't want us involved."
Inola said 'us' as if it was a bad word.
"He'll want to play this one close to his chest."
"Election year?"
Inola smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes. "You pick up fast. Matthias will use Ronin the way he always does to further his agenda. And Andreas, too, no doubt. His two sons are in coveted positions of power in the Occult world. Matthias won't squander the opportunity."
~
Inola took Kaliope to the downtown market. The entire ride there, her mind focused on Vincent and Matthias' manipulation of his sons to aid in his political agenda. There was minimal foot traffic at this time of the night, with most of the activity centered around the food stalls at the front of the location.
Inola led Kaliope through the market, away from the bustle and lights. When they turned down an alley between two shops, Kaliope clutched her handbag. It was the sort of place where unwitting travelers lost pocket money and organs.
Kaliope pitched her voice low. "Where are we going?"
Inola chuckled. "Scared?"
She continued, and Kaliope hustled behind, head on a swivel. They approached a metal door covered in graffiti, and Inola slid it open. Kaliope forgot her trepidation as the mouthwatering aroma of smoked meats and savory spices filled the air, inviting them inside an informal restaurant. Grills sizzled, and the chatter of delighted diners added to the ambiance of the dim lighting and rustic decor. A waiter guided them to an empty table.
"How'd you find this place?"
"It's a fox den."
"What?" Everyone around Kaliope appeared normal. Human.
Inola bent over the table and blew in Kaliope's eyes. She blinked away the tingling sensation, and when she focused on the room again, the ordinary patrons now sported tails and ears, most of them half-changed. Kaliope gasped.
"Did you bring me into the occult section of the market?"
"Think I want fang marks on my neck?"
The waiter returned for their order, and Inola recited a long list without a menu. Beef brisket, a serving of pulled pork, and a selection of grilled sausages served with onions and peppers. And for the side dishes—coleslaw, extra cheesy, creamy mac and cheese, and buttery cornbread. To top it all off, she added two frosty glasses of beer. They waited five minutes before the server wheeled out their order and arranged them on the table.
Kaliope stared at the spread. "How are we going to eat all this?"
"A piece at a time." Inola dropped pieces of pulled pork into her mouth like a baby bird eating a worm. She whooped and dived in.
Kaliope hesitated, trying to figure out where to begin before she started with the brisket. The slow-smoked cut of beef was tender, juicy, and flavorful. Ronin crossed her mind as she plated her second serving. Had he eaten?
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
Inola swigged her beer. "Sure."
Kaliope considered how best to broach her dilemma with Ronin without jeopardizing her newfound friendship if Inola harbored feelings for their boss. Inola waited, cheeks puffed with food as she chewed. Even a good-natured fox might show its claws if it felt someone was invading its territory.
Not wanting to chance it, Kaliope waved it off. "It's nothing. Nevermind."
"Is it about Ronin?"
"Oh. No. It's nothing. Eat."
"Hmm. Okay."
Inola dropped the conversation, and they ate for a time in silence.
"Oye, human." Inola's whiplash mood change caught Kaliope off guard as the fox demon slammed her fork on the table.
"What? I didn't say anything."
"Who are you cheering for in the Fox Games?
Kaliope blinked. "Fox Games?"
"Yeah. Once a year, all the fox clans compete in a time-limited quest hosted in the Seam. It's a big event." Inola slanted her eyes. "Can't have you fraternizing with the enemy."
"Tobias isn't your enemy. And can I go? To the games?"
"Yeah. With special permission. Ronin can hook you up." Inola winked.
They finished their feast over Inola's recap of previous Fox Games. Inola's mother was a champion player for her Northender Clan before her move to the Eastenders after marriage. "Southenders won last year," Inola growled. "The trophy's coming to the East Clan next games. I'll make sure of it."
Anticipation buzzed under Kaliope's skin. Traveling into another dimension? Magic sports quest? "Wait. Are you participating?"
"I qualified to join this year." Inola beamed, proud of her achievement. "You'll see the rest of my full form."
Inola partially changed her hand up to the wrist. Butterflies fluttered in Kaliope's stomach before she remembered where they were.
"Foxes can maintain their demon fox mode for up to five hours within a 24-hour span. Hence the time limit on the quest. Some will crash out before the time lapses." Inola giggled.
"How long can you hold yours?"
"The full five. I'll need to go on fasting a week before." Inola sulked. "It's a whole thing, pre-game preparations—the only downside. I bet you'd do good in the games. If you were, you know, a fox."
Kaliope grimaced as old memories stirred. "Why do you say that?" She picked up her beer.
"You'd be a beast."
Kaliope almost spat out her beer. "I don't think—"
Kaliope's phone rang, ending her rebuttal. She wiped her sauce-covered fingers clean. Unknown number. She answered it, dipping below the table to ward off some of the noise from the other patrons. "Hello? Kaliope Barnes speaking."
There was a pause on the other side of the line before a raspy voice spoke. "Ms. Barnes. This is Ballister Falgor. I'm sorry for calling you so late."
"Oh, no, Mr. Falgor, it's alright. What can I do for you?"
Ballister broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably. All attempts to get through to him failed. Kaliope excused herself and went outside.
"Mr. Falgor? Mr. Falgor? Are you alright?"
Inola joined her, Kaliope's bag over her shoulder. "What is it?"
"Ballister. He's crying."
Inola's eyes sobered to her jade-gray. "Let's go."
~~~
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.