Bile burned a fucking hole in his esophagus. Wilson swallowed and then swallowed again as he listened to Alan. The leopard shifter finished speaking, and Wilson wordlessly ended the call and set his phone on the desk.
“We need to hit them again,” Dax said from his spot near the door. “We need to hit them tonight when they’re not expecting it. I’ll lead the team. I need two dozen men and -”
With a low cry of rage, Wilson snatched up the small paperweight globe next to his laptop. He turned and hurled it against the wall. It made a satisfying thud when it broke the drywall before falling to the hardwood with another heavy thump.
He smoothed back his hair before turning toward Dax.
“Feel better?” Dax said.
“I underestimated them, I’ll fucking admit it, but don’t you dare take that fucking tone with me,” Wilson said.
Dax growled under his breath. “I’ll fly out there this afternoon. By tomorrow night, Emerson and her bitch sister will be dead.”
“No,” Wilson said as he reached for his phone inside his suit jacket. “You’re not going. No one is. I need a new plan, one that -”
“What you need is to clean up that fucking mess. I told you Alan was an idiot. I won’t fuck this up, and I certainly won’t let a fucking bird shifter and his friends dose me with -”
“They have a polar bear and grizzly bear, you asshole!” Wilson screamed. “A fucking polar bear in the city! When the fuck did they stop living in the frozen wastelands of Canada and Alaska and move to the fucking city? Tell me one goddamn time in history where a tiger shifter has defeated a polar bear. Go on, fucking tell me!”
He didn’t need to be a shifter to smell Dax’s rage. He could see it all over the big man’s face, see it in the way his body swelled and in the beard that was growing on his face. Wilson sat behind his desk and slipped his hand under it, wrapping his fingers around the gun strapped to the underside. His anger gone, he waited calmly for Dax to either back down or try to kill him.
After about thirty seconds, Dax’s body returned to normal. His eyes still a dark golden colour and his pupils' narrow slits, he said, “With enough men, we can defeat them, Wilson.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Wilson said.
“You need to do something. Emerson’s probably already gone to the fucking police with what she knows.”
Wilson shrugged. “Probably, but she has no proof. And if by some miracle, the police show up here asking questions because of what she’s told them, I have four other employees who are willing to sign affidavits swearing that Emerson Joyce is a disgruntled ex-employee looking for revenge for being fired for incompetency.”
Dax frowned. “She was well-liked here. How are you getting people to lie about her?”
Wilson grinned bitterly. “Money makes people willing to do all sorts of things. For now, we leave Emerson be. I have other issues requiring my attention. The Healing Hands gala is this weekend and -”
“You can’t possibly be considering going to it,” Dax said.
“Of course, I am. I go every year, and if the police or the fucking FBI are watching me, it’s more important now than ever to keep up appearances. I haven’t missed the gala in over a decade, and I’m not missing it this year either.”
“We have no idea where Clay is. What if he shows up? What if he fucking teleports you right out of the goddamn gala?” Dax said.
“He won’t,” Wilson said. “He knows if he kidnaps me, his brother is dead. Trust me, I’m perfectly safe.”
He scrolled through his phone. “I’ve arranged for the serum to be loaded and shipped Wednesday evening. A memo’s been sent out to the employees about the warehouse being cleaned that night, but a final sweep of the office and warehouse for any employees is needed before Martin Grimes’s men arrive with the serum.”
“What about Emerson?” Dax said. “When exactly are you taking care of -”
“Enough!” Wilson said. “Trust that I am working on a solution to the Emerson problem and stay in your fucking lane, Dax.”
“Yes, sir,” Dax growled before stalking out of his office, slamming the door behind him.
“Clay didn’t tell you what she said?” Kat handed Emerson the last dinner plate, and she stacked it in the dishwasher before shutting the door.
“No. He got a text from her around five, and he brought me here and then left.” Emerson sank into a kitchen chair and took the beer Ronin handed to her with a nod of thanks.
“What’s her name again?” Kat joined her at the table and took a sip of Ronin’s beer before giving it back to him.
“Sarina.” Emerson glanced at her watch. “It’s been almost two hours, and I’m getting worried. How long does it take to say either yes or no to a request for help?”
“Maybe Clay didn’t -” Kat’s sentence turned to a low growl of surprise when Clay materialized in the kitchen.
“Clay!” Emerson jumped to her feet, her jaguar growling in alarm at the blood caked beneath Clay’s nose and the swelling under his right eye. She rushed over to him, touching his face gingerly. “What happened?”
“Sarina happened,” he said. “She agreed to meet with me but didn’t agree to not punching me in the face a few times.”
“She sounds great,” Ronin said. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“I’ll remind you of what you said when she,” Clay grimaced and pulled at the crotch of his jeans, “knees you in the balls.”
Ronin’s grin turned into a laugh as Emerson used a damp cloth to wipe gently at the dried blood on Clay’s face.
“So, with Sarina not willing to help, Bishop said earlier today that he might know someone who could do it. A client knows a guy who knows a -” Kat said.
“Sarina’s in,” Clay said and then hissed out a breath when Emerson wiped the blood from his nose.
“She’s in?” Kat said.
“Yes.”
“She just, what… felt the need to punch you a few times first?”
Clay took the ice pack Emerson handed him, pressing it against his eye. “Yeah.”
“I can respect that,” Kat said.
“Do we really want someone on the team who’s willing to beat the crap out of other team members?” Emerson said.
“Be honest, Clay,” Ronin said with another grin, “she had a reason for punching you.”
“I might have tried to kill her a few years back,” Clay said.
Ronin burst out laughing as Clay said to Emerson, “But in my defense, she was trying to kill my client at the time.”
“Did she succeed?” Kat said.
“Yeah. Strangled him with his own shoelace.”
“Damn. I really need to meet her now,” Ronin said.
“How did you go from trying to kill each other to having each other’s cell number?” Emerson said.
Clay just shrugged. “The killing business is weird. I’ll bring Sarina to the city Saturday afternoon. Once she’s ready to go, I’ll teleport her and Kat to the charity gala.”
“And me,” Ronin said.
“Fine,” Clay said.
“Me as well,” Emerson said.
Clay scowled. “No, Em. You’re not going anywhere near Wilson Granger.”
“I’ll be perfectly safe,” Emerson said. “I’m not going into the gala.”
“Emmy, he’s right. You should stay here,” Kat said.
“Well, lucky for me, I’m an adult, and neither you nor Clay can tell me what to do,” Emerson said.
“She’s got you on that one, Kitten.” Ronin took a sip of his beer.
“You still haven’t told me how you’re going to get her a ticket to the gala,” Emerson said. “It’s been sold out for months.”
“I’ve already accessed the computer system Healing Hands used to keep track of invitations. Now that I know she’s in, I’ll add mine and Sarina’s name to the list.” Kat glanced at Clay. “Your… co-worker, Saul, texted me today. I’ve set him up with remote access. Once we connect the phone, he’ll add the tracking program.”
“Wait, why are you going into the gala?” Emerson stared at Kat in alarm.
“It’ll be easier for Sarina to hand off the phone to me if I’m in the gala. She can’t exactly leave the building if she’s seducing Wilson. But a quick trip to the bathroom to give me the phone will work. I’ll bring it back to her when we’re done, and she can slip it back into Wilson’s jacket without him being the wiser.”
“What if Wilson’s looked up pictures of you?” Emerson said. “He probably knows what you look like, Katarina. Which means if he sees you, he’ll know something’s up, or he might,” she swallowed hard, “try to kill you.”
“He won’t see me. But I’ll wear a wig and coloured contacts just in case,” Kat said. “Honey, it’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Then I guess we’re set,” Emerson said, even though her stomach was churning at the idea of Kat being in the same room as Wilson. She took Clay’s hand. “It’s getting late. We should go home.”
It was impossible to miss the look Kat gave Ronin, but as much as Emerson loved her sister, she didn’t care what Kat thought of her relationship with Clay. It was new territory for her. She’d always cared deeply about Kat’s opinion on the men she dated. Although Kat had never come out and said it, Emerson knew that she’d never liked Ira, and Ira had downright hated Kat. Probably because she’d called him on his bullshit.
Clay set the ice pack on the table as Emerson kissed Kat’s cheek. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, all right?”
“Yes.” Kat looked like she was about to say something else before smiling at Emerson and moving to where Ronin sat. She sank into his lap, putting her arm around his shoulders as he stroked her back.
“Good night, guys,” Ronin said.
Clay nodded before pulling Emerson into his embrace. “Ready?”
“Yes.” She put her arms around his shoulders as he tightened his arms around her waist and the spinning blackness descended.
It didn’t surprise Clay that Sarina neither staggered on her feet nor vomited when they returned to his penthouse. A slight grimace was her only reaction to teleporting before she dropped her bag on the floor and stared at Emerson.
Looking a little nervous and unsure, Emerson held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Emerson.”
“Sarina.” She shook Emerson’s hand before walking to the windows. She studied the city below them. “This is some view you’ve got here, Clay.”
“Thanks.”
An awkward silence descended. Emerson cleared her throat. “Thank you for helping us.”
Sarina shrugged. “I owe Clay a debt.” She turned to face him. “This clears it, remember that.”
“I won’t forget,” he said. A part of him, apparently the part that had a death wish, wanted to point out that pickpocketing a phone didn’t seem like evening the score for saving Sarina’s life, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
The shapeshifter was tough, and while he wasn’t afraid of her, he didn’t doubt that she could and would kill him easily with no less than four of the items on the bookshelf she was currently eyeing. Although he hadn’t seen it himself, he’d never doubted the rumour that Sarina had once killed four Colombian drug lords with nothing but a pencil and her bare hands.
“How long until the gala?” Sarina said.
“Three hours.”
Sarina picked up her bag. “Show me where I can shower and change.”
“This way.” Clay led Sarina to the guest room.
“Holy shit,” Emerson breathed beside him. “She looks… stunning.”
Clay nodded. Sarina did look amazing. Although as far as he was concerned, Emerson was exceedingly more beautiful than the shapeshifter, even in the simple t-shirt and jeans she wore.
In sharp contrast to Emerson’s casual look, Sarina wore a floor-length dark green evening dress with a fitted lace bodice and the skirt just flowy enough to hide the multiple weapons he was sure she’d hidden on her body. Flawless make-up and her long auburn hair piled on top of her head completed her look.
“That’s a beautiful dress,” Emerson said. “You look perfect for the gala.”
“Thank you,” Sarina said.
“There are metal detectors,” Clay said.
Sarina muttered a curse and hiked up the dress to reveal black thigh-highs and the gun in the holster strapped to her left thigh, and the knife strapped to her right.
“Oh… wow,” Emerson said, as Sarina unstrapped them both and dropped them on the chair next to her.
She smoothed down her dress, arching one perfect eyebrow at Clay when he stared at her. “What?”
“Like that’s all you’ve got. If you set off the detector, this is all over, Sarina, and your debt is not repaid.”
She glared at him before reaching into the bodice of her dress. She rummaged in her cleavage for a few seconds before producing a pair of brass knuckles and a switchblade.
“You didn’t mention I’d have to go in completely unarmed,” she said.
“I could give you a pencil,” he said.
A small grin crossed her face before she pulled a thin steel rod about as thick as a pencil but half the length from her hair. The one end narrowed into a needle-sharp point. It joined the other weapons on his living room chair.
Emerson stared at Sarina in a combination of surprise and awe. As Sarina adjusted her dress, Emerson leaned over to Clay and whispered, “I want to be her when I grow up.”
He grinned and surprised himself by bending and pressing a kiss against her mouth. Public displays of affection weren’t his thing, but he suddenly didn’t care if Sarina knew how he felt about Emerson. “Baby, you’re just as tough as she is, trust me.”
She grinned and purred softly. “Sweet of you to say, but completely untrue.”
The buzz of the door made Emerson jump. “Are you expecting someone?”
“No,” he said.
“It’s my sister,” Sarina said.
“Your sister?” He could hear the annoyance in his voice. “You told your sister where I fucking live?”
“Relax,” Sarina said. “She’s not going to tell anyone.”
“Why exactly is she here?” Clay said.
“I need her help,” Sarina said as the door buzzed again. “Let her in, Clay.”
He called the doorman at the front desk of the lobby. “Hi, Walter. Yes, let her up. Thanks.”
“What do you need her help with?” He stuck his phone back into his pocket.
Sarina did jazz hands. “Magic.”
“Magic?” Emerson said.
Clay shrugged. “I have no idea what she’s talking about.”
He opened the door at the soft knock and grunted in surprise as the woman smiled at him. “Hey there!”
Clay stared at the enormous crow sitting on the woman’s shoulder. “There’s a crow on your shoulder.”
“Um, yes, I know,” the woman said politely. “I’m looking for my sister, Sarina. Can I come in?”
“With the bird?”
“We’re kind of a package deal.”
He sighed and stepped back, letting the pretty brunette walk past him. “If that bird shits in my apartment, I’m sending you the cleaning bill, Sarina.”
She ignored him, her arms already outstretched for her sister’s hug. “Hello, sweetness.”
“Hi!” The woman flung her arms around Sarina. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Sarina smiled at her, holding her out at arm’s length. “You look good, sweetie. Really good.”
“You do too. That’s some dress. You’re a total hottie in it. If I’d known we were dressing up, I would have worn my jeans without the rips in the knees.”
Sarina laughed. “You look gorgeous, sweetie. Just like you always do.” She touched the four unicorn barrettes that haphazardly held her sister’s hair back from her face. “Since when did you develop a love for unicorns?”
“Oh, that’s from Liza across the hall. She’s only seven and obsessed with unicorns. Did I not tell you that she and her parents moved into Bren’s old apartment? Anyway, she wants to be a hairstylist, so she likes to come over and do my hair for me. It’s usually just a lot of unicorn barrettes.”
Sarina’s sister was pretty in a soft and sweet kind of way, Clay decided. She and Sarina didn’t look much alike. Where Sarina had almost waist-length auburn hair, dark brown eyes, and a muscular, athletic body, her sister had shoulder-length light brown hair, blue eyes, and she was on the slender side.
The crow made a low caw and stretched its head toward Sarina. She petted the bird’s head with a gentle hand. “Hello, Liliana.”
The crow rubbed its beak along Sarina’s fingers before nibbling at them affectionately.
“Did you tell Helen I was here?” Sarina said.
“No, I kept it quiet like you asked. But why are you here? I thought you would be in Paris for at least another two months.”
“I’m just here for tonight,” Sarina said. “I’m back in Paris tomorrow.”
“When did your flight land? I could have picked you up from the airport,” her sister said.
“I didn’t fly,” Sarina said with a look at Clay.
Her sister’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, did you teleport?”
“You told her I could teleport?” Clay said. “The fuck, Sarina?”
“Watch your mouth around my sister,” Sarina said.
Her sister rolled her eyes. “Sarina, I’m twenty-four. I’ve heard the F word before. Also,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’m not even a virgin.”
Emerson laughed, and Sarina’s sister turned to her with a grin and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Elora.”
“Hi, Elora. I’m Emerson.” Emerson shook her hand and studied the bird on Elora’s shoulder.
“This is Liliana,” Elora said.
Emerson sniffed the air and gave Clay a quick look before saying, “Um, so Liliana isn’t just a crow. Did you know that, or…”
“Oh, I know,” Elora said. “She’s a witch trapped in a crow’s body. I’m working on reversing the spell.” She rubbed her nose along the crow’s shiny black feathers. “Isn’t that right, honey?”
The crow cawed softly before grooming Elora’s light brown hair with her beak. When Clay joined them, Elora held out her hand. “Hi, Clay, I’m Elora. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Apparently,” he said dryly before shaking her hand. He jerked back when the crow cawed and snapped her beak viciously at him.
“Liliana,” Elora said, “enough. Sorry, Clay. She doesn’t really like men all that much.”
“How long have you had her?” Emerson said.
“Two years,” Elora said before turning back to Clay. “Don’t worry about me sharing your abilities with anyone. I’m excellent at keeping secrets.”
“Well, that makes me feel much better,” Clay said.
Elora laughed as he said to Sarina, “Why exactly did you decide to involve your sister in the plan without talking to us first?”
“She’s not involved in the plan,” Sarina said as the crow took flight from Elora’s shoulder. She did a couple of circles around the room before landing on top of the bookshelf and staring down at them with her beady black eyes. “I need her to do a simple binding spell, and that’s it.”
“A binding spell,” Emerson said. “You’re a witch?”
“I am,” Elora said with a hint of pride in her voice.
“By blood or apprenticeship?” Emerson said.
Elora grinned at her. “You know about witches? Are you a paranormal?”
“Yes. A jaguar shifter.”
“Cool, cool, cool. Although it’s been my experience that shifters still don’t know that much about us witches. Most of them aren’t all that interested in paranormals who aren’t shifters. No offense.”
“None taken,” Emerson said.
“Anyway, I’m a blood witch. It goes back on my mother’s side for generations. My grandmother, Helen, is a super powerful witch. My powers developed a little late, so I’m still learning control and how to cast more complicated spells. Which is why I’m struggling to free Liliana from her spell, but Helen thinks I’ll be more powerful than her someday.”
“So, if your grandmother is so powerful, why not have her free Liliana?” Emerson eyed the crow still sitting on the bookshelf.
“She won’t do it,” Elora said but didn’t elaborate.
Clay studied Sarina. “Why are you a shapeshifter and not a witch?”
“Maybe I’m both,” Sarina said.
Elora grinned. “You wish. Sarina and I are half-sisters. We share the same father, not mother.”
She glanced at Sarina. “So, the usual binding spell?”
Sarina nodded, and Emerson said, “I hope this isn’t rude because I’m honestly fascinated by it, but can I ask why a binding spell and what it’s for?”
“Of course,” Elora said. “I love talking magic. So, there can be different binding spells, depending on what you need, but this one is a real simple one because I’m not trying to, like, bind someone to another person or shit like that. I’m just gonna bind Sarina’s clothes to her body so that if she has to shapeshift, she won’t be naked when she shifts back to her human form.”
“Seriously?” Emerson’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
Elora nodded. “Yep. Normally, depending on what animal she shifts into, her clothes would either be torn apart or just collapse around her, right? Well, with the binding spell, they disappear when she shifts to an animal form and reappear when she returns to human.”
“How?” Emerson said.
“Magic,” Sarina said.
Elora laughed. “It’s kind of hard to explain how the spell works. It just does.”
“Would it work for shifters?”
“I think so. I’ve never tried it on one. The only shifter I know that well is a dragon shifter, and after my grandmother accidentally dosed her with a love potion, I’ve never felt comfortable asking her to let me practice a spell on her.”
Clay glanced at his watch. “We have about half an hour before we need to leave. Is this necessary? If you do your job correctly, the odds of you needing to shapeshift are extremely low.”
“Better to have it and not need it, am I right?” Elora said.
Sarina stared coolly at him. “I don’t tell you how to do your job, Clay. Don’t tell me how to do mine.”
He rolled his eyes, but Emerson squeezed his hand and said, “Listen, if I had the chance to have some spell put on me where I didn’t end up naked every time I shifted back from my jaguar, I’d do it too.”
Elora grinned at her. “I’ll give you my number. Anytime you want the spell performed, just let me know. This type of binding spell isn’t illegal, so the WWC won’t be breathing down our necks over it. But the spell only lasts for about twenty-four hours, so it’s not always that helpful unless you live the same type of life my sister does?”
“Not normally,” Emerson said. “Usually, I’m in my pajamas by ten on a Saturday night, eating popcorn and watching Tiny House Nation.”
Elora held out her fist, and Emerson bumped it. “You’re my people, Emerson. I’m giving you my number. Do you like Thai food?”
“Sweetie, we’re on a time limit,” Sarina said. “I need you to stop making friends and start casting spells.”
“Right, sorry.” Elora slapped her hands together and rubbed them back and forth rapidly. “Let’s make some magic.”