Protein pancakes were fine when you slathered them in syrup and ate them with a side of righteous indignation. Arthur was so sure it would only backfire if I went in all guns blazing and even knowing in my bones that polite discourse with oppressors gets you politely oppressed, I’d somehow let myself agree to play his game. Once. Just once. That was all he got. And, shit, maybe a demonstration would show Arthur what the world really looked like.
I got an update from Nic so I knew he was still alive. I called through my report to Bethany, touched base with Dierdre off the books, and followed Arthur’s advice to wear something feminine, much as it pissed me off.
But I wasn’t burning bridges today. I was helping wheels turn. Pushing shit uphill. Pick a metaphor.
Anyway, my wheels would go uphill faster with some pushing. And today that involved getting out the soft green dress I’d worn once in two years because it seemed to generate its own body odor. Cheap fabric was such bullshit.
Taig called while I was avoiding the worst of the rain under a store’s awning while I waited for the tram. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. A little bird told me you’re pleading your case to the local wizards.” I heard the complete lack of emotion in his voice. “Thought I’d give you the heads up. We know one of them is charisma’d. And you’re in the threat category.”
“Too fucking right I am,” I muttered, and a middle-aged guy hurrying along froze about a meter away, staring at me, disgusted. “I’d kiss your mother with this mouth,” I told him and puckered dramatically.
He moved along.
“She’d probably soap it,” Taig said, amused.
“Oh. Not you. Generic passerby.” I saw the tram trundle to a stop at lights on the other side of the intersection and timed my dash across traffic. “Who’s dirty?”
“Is that for me, or your passerby?” he asked, and there was laughter in his voice still.
“You.”
His voice dropped, became lower, but no more serious. “Well, I’m in public, but…”
He startled a laugh out of me. “Hellfire, Taig, you knew what I meant.”
“Bart Griffiths.” And he sounded serious, now. “South Melbourne coven. Don’t know how they’re getting at him, yet, so you haven’t been called in. You don’t know anything.”
My heart ached. I wondered if he could lose his job for this. “My lips are sealed.”
“I trust you.” There was a blast of crackling from his end. “Sorry. Windy today. You got someone watching your back?”
I rocked as the tram moved along, dinging every now and then, the familiar back and forth of commuters and the rustle of umbrellas a strangely comforting environment. “Yeah,” I said, kind of surprised when I thought about it. Because Arthur was in my corner. Sort of.
Against vampires trying to—what? Organize our bureaucracy?
“Also hearing an interesting rumor or two,” he said, and the words were so quiet I had to work to hear them. “About a very old vamp who’s transferring.”
Unease trickled up my spine. Babies I could nail. Ancients were another thing. “Keep talking.”
“Can’t. Haven’t seen the paperwork. Just know people, who know people who, who know people who are scared. Could be nothing.”
His tone said he didn’t believe it. I had respect for Taig’s instincts. “How old are we talking?”
“Word is he’s been traced back to the seventeen hundreds.” Fuck. I glanced absently at the stop number as someone else boarded, held the information in a small part of my brain. “I’ve heard a lot more, too. Don’t know if any of it is true, but there’s definitely something happening.”
The unease spread. He was very right about that. “Hey, Taig.”
“Mm?”
I tucked the phone up closer to my still-tender ear. “You’ve been to the Solstice bullshit before, right?”
“Yeah. Required attendance for anyone working in the magi field.” And that was it.
My mind spun as my body rocked. “I’m thinking about it,” I said, slowly, feeling sick.
“About…not working in the field?” he asked, just as slowly.
“No.” I tried to remember the specifics. A quiet park somewhere. Outdoors, but with marquees or whatever they called them, those big arse, fancy tents. Probably bows on the chairs. If there were chairs. Shit.
“Want to go together?” he asked, casually.
“Yeah.” Because there was a sense of dread somewhere in the pit of my stomach. “Maybe. You keen?”
With laughter in his voice he said, “Sure. Just let me know if I’m your date, your backup, or your guide, though. Helps avoid awkwardness.”
Oh, fuck. Yeah. Woops. “Backup. Masquerade ball, all the magi gathered in the middle of nowhere—”
“It’s behind the Royal Children’s Hospital. That’s the opposite of the middle of nowhere.” But there was a hint of curiosity coming through. “Keep talking.”
I glanced up, gauging how close I was. “Can’t, gotta get off in a few minutes. But. Anyone else I should keep my eye on?”
“All of them,” he said, dismissively. “But nothing specific. Call me when you’re done? I’d value your opinion.”
“Sure. Don’t hold your breath though. Wizards talk forever.”
“Amen,” he agreed easily. “Good luck, Rory.”
I wasn’t going to get to do much, though. The goal was to make me look as least conflicting as possible. Conflictual? Conflicted?
Fuck. I was so screwed.
I stepped in a puddle climbing off the tram and my painfully cute heels offered me no protection. I could all but feel the water gleefully travelling up the boring beige stockings I’d bought specifically for this occasion. With an arm over my face to protect my very minimal makeup from the drizzle I dashed across the road and started to trudge.
One wizard; known vampire fodder. One more; recently rescued. Arthur. That was three out of five they’d had a swing at that we knew of.
And Amor was in the wind.
I kept my eyes on the path ahead. As Taig had said, it was a windy day today. I didn’t want any long-lost witches blowing in.
Why the fuck had she gone after me? Revenge? It wasn’t like I was still standing between them and Dierdre. Officially, I’d been kicked off the case. Lilith and Arthur were greater threats to whatever morally corrupt scheme they’d hatched.
I didn’t need to double check the number at the front of the building. North Melbourne Coven was emblazoned across the front window in heavy lettering. It had probably been some sort of three-story office space at some point. Now it was all witch, down to the huge window planters overflowing with somewhat dejected herbs and the black cat curled up on the couch in the reception area.
How come we didn’t get a reception area?
Our cat was cuter, though. And wanted to eat the rich.
A man stood smack bang in the center of the reception room, an espresso mug in his hand and the serene aura of unshakable power—said dickhead vibe made me confident he was a wizard.
Maybe I should start up some sort of side hustle. Can spot arseholes after point-zero-one seconds. Aura reading by Aurora. Ew. No.
“Rory,” he said, smiling and offering me a hand. “Jerome Hamilton. Welcome to my coven.”
His coven. Sure.
I put my hand in his and felt the callouses from wand use. It surprised me, a little, that this old relic in his fancy suit with his miniature coffee did work. “Pleasure to be invited,” I said, glancing down at the hand in mine. Diamonds. He was charmed to the nines.
“We both know you weren’t,” he said, amused, as he released my hand. “Arthur’s been campaigning for you.”
I met his eyes and bit back the responses I wanted to make. Instead, I just said, “He’s a good wizard.”
“He is,” Jerome agreed, making no move to lead me to wherever we were supposed to go. Or offer me a coffee. I could deal with mini coffee. The cute cup would match my cute shoes. “But he isn’t the best diplomat.”
I raised my brows. “Aren’t we on the same team, Jerome?” And, shit, I was polite.
His smile was not at all warming. “The witch who brought down the High Wizard, not understanding there are competing interests at play?” he clicked his tongue at me and shook his head in disapproval. “You’ll have to do better.” He stepped back, waving a hand at a set of stairs. “But I trust you know how. Up the stairs, first room on the right.”
I walked past him, that warning ringing in my ears and a sick weight in the bottom of my belly.
The first room on the right was well lit but not from any source of sunlight. The whoosh of ducted heating kicking in was my greeting; a table of four wizards, complete with name plates, dominated the room. One beige wall was taken up by a gigantic image of a mythical wizard holding off a demon and a whole sea of nasties with what looked like the Homefires spell. I mean, Homefires was great, but I’d been there. It didn’t look half so pretty in real life.
“Good morning,” I said brightly, taking the one seat without a name plate as Jerome shut the door behind me. “Thank you for having me today.”
“Aurora Gold, this is Samuel Brown from West, Bart Griffiths from South, and Vincetto Delerenzo from South East. You’ve met Jerome?” Arthur asked, as said slimeball slipped into his seat. Not waiting for me to respond, he said, to the table at large, “Aurora is keen to return to her work. Being a witch down, given the climate right now, is a major issue, and as a diligent worker, she’s—”
“The climate is exactly why she can’t return,” Vincetto said, sitting back. I barely remembered his face. I wondered if his kid was doing okay as his eyes went to Bart, over the table.
Bart resembled a side of pickled pork left too long in the pot and there was something very cold about his gaze that made me wonder if I’d bother taking a contract if it was just to save his hide. “We aren’t here to be judge, jury and executioner.” And he reinforced these words with a firm nod of his head. “We need to separate Caretakers from any form of law enforcement.”
I kept my mouth shut. He wasn’t technically wrong. I was a pretty good executioner, though. And not the worst judge or jury.
Samuel frowned at Bart. “The vampires are a very real threat, and we have a very real weapon, right here. Why not use it?”
Arthur cleared his throat. “Aurora is a witch, not a weapon, Samuel, however I think I take your meaning.”
“What say you, witch?” Jerome asked, setting down his espresso cup beside his laptop without looking at me.
I wondered if they’d taught him to talk like a dirtbag at Self Important Arsehole School. “I’ve taken two Retrievals contracts in the past twelve months,” I said, perfectly polite. “I do not actively seek employment in that area. I’m known to Victoria Police, it’s true, but I don’t take contracts directly from them.” I mean, I had, but only for expediency. “They contact the Retrievals handler, who weighs need against resources. I’m a resource.” And I didn’t look at Vincetto. Fucking wizards. “My focus is supporting the vulnerable. I take my job as a Caretaker seriously.”
“Aurora hasn’t been part of a Retrievals team for quite some time,” Arthur agreed, turning back to the table. “The jobs she has taken only strengthen her connections to our community.”
Samuel was nodding. “And someone who can deal with vampires and lycanthropes when the chips are down is good to have on the books.”
I folded my legs, feeling sick, and waited for the rebuttal. “Caretakers have a lot of information at their fingertips,” Vincetto said, shooting me a look of disdain. “Aurora, you leveraged that against Edward Van Der Holst.”
Fucking right I had. And I’d do it again.
“Which was, of course, the right thing to do at that point,” Bart cut in. “However, that sort of power—and the division of loyalties—isn’t viable in the long run.”
Jerome, up the end of the table, met my eyes as Arthur said, “Aurora’s role in uncovering Van Der Holst’s corruption is one we all support.” And the statement was most definitely a threat. “As do the media.” I kept my brows from rising. How come he was allowed to push his weight around? “The issue isn’t Van Der Holst or conflicts of interests. It’s the death of a woman who had been moments away from summoning an angel, and whether we feel that Aurora needs to await the results of the police investigation.”
“That’s just the symptom of the problem brought about by the actual underlying issue here—her conflict of interest,” Vincetto said dismissively. “We cannot have this as a precedent to allow other such breaches.”
The cycle kicked off again. Jerome picked up his espresso, swirled the contents of the cup, and let it continue.
Two on one side. Two on the other. And there Jerome sat, just watching me, amused.
Fuck.
I listened. I wasn’t invited to speak again and I probably couldn’t have even if I had, because they were all so keen to convince one another of their arguments. So I sat there, nonthreatening, low conflict little old me, and waited it out.
Jerome eventually cleared his throat and stood. “Perhaps we should meet again in a few days’ time, ladies and gentlemen? Aurora, if you’d wait downstairs, I’d like to consult you on a separate issue in your capacity as Retrievals Officer.” Unease climbed up my spine to wrap around my throat. “Gentlemen, when should we five meet again?”
The handle of the door was cold. My stockings had dried a little, but my shoes were still soaked. I walked downstairs, sat on the couch, and let my mind turn.
Retrievals? I’d put money on the fact that this arsehole had vampire problems. And that he was about to use my tenuous position to force me to do something I didn’t want to do.
I sat back and the cat on the couch stood and showed me its butthole. I wasn’t sure if that was approval or not. I could be cleared next week. Multiple Amors meant multiple opportunities for them to call on an angel. Even if Nic witnessed what I had, identified it, reported it, that’d be enough. Shit, I wouldn’t want them to have to actually deal with even the echo of the being that a possessed person could call on.
On the other hand, the situation could settle. And there may never be enough evidence to get Clint off my back. Then I’d have to wait on the mercy of the new District High Wizard, whenever, whoever, however that happened.
I figured the odds were unfortunately pretty good I’d have evidence of angelic threat before the month was up. I also knew firing me right now, after I’d caused such a ruckus with Van Der Holst, would be a very bad political move. ‘Oh she was super anti-corrupt earlier but now turns out she’s corrupt ha-ha promise we aren’t just singling her out’ wasn’t going to fly with the voters. Especially not after I opened my big mouth. This was a government job. The Minister of Magi didn’t want to look any worse than he already did. I was relatively safe.
Annoyed, delayed, but safe.
But it never hurt to hedge my bets, did it?
They filed out in pairs. Arthur and Samuel stopped, shook my hand. “We need you,” Samuel told me, and there was an intensity to his gaze that made the hair on the back of my neck rise. “The city is rife with vampires and lycanthropes. We need witches like you to stand against that. Thank you for your service, Aurora.”
I was reminded of the picture up on the wall of the idealized wizard standing against a flood of darkness with just a flashy kids’ trick. Fucking wizards. Everything was about them. Even in actual fights for actual causes, they made themselves the heroes. “I’m just doing my jobs, Samuel,” I said, calmly. “But thank you for your kind words.”
“Humble, too.” He nodded in approval. “Blessed be, sister.”
“Let me know when you’re free,” Arthur told me, as Samuel released me and stepped back. “Today, preferably.”
I raised a brow at this, then smoothed it quickly when I heard Jerome coming down the stairs. “Sure.”
He nodded firmly. “Be careful,” he murmured as he moved past me.
I didn’t even roll my eyes. Who the hells was I?
“I’ve got a meeting next in your area,” Jerome told me with a glance at his watch. “Perhaps you could ride with me so we can talk and travel?”
I resettled my bag on my shoulder, fell into step beside him, and was guided out front to an idling car. I hadn’t seen a single witch, just a cat. Interesting.
Jerome opened the back door of an oversized car and ushered me in. “I employ a driver,” he said as I did a quick scan for anything that should be concerning me. “Allows me to work during traffic jams.” The rest of us just employed public transport, but sure. I climbed in, slid over the leather seats to the far side.
“Usual, sir?” the driver asked, watching his side mirrors.
“Thanks, Xander. We’ll need to drop Ms. Gold off, too, perhaps at the Melbourne East Coven?” He checked with me and I nodded. It was closer to home than this was, and Arthur said he wanted to see me. “If you wouldn’t mind, Xander could drive you after I’m at my meeting.” It wasn’t a question. He took his wand and murmured a spell. A privacy wall appeared between us and the driver.
He thought he had me cold.
I watched him, curious. I was uneasy, sure, but what could this guy really do? Nothing I couldn’t fight.
“I hope you don’t mind, the consultancy was more or less an excuse,” he admitted, settling back, ankle over his knee, arms spread. Taking up space. King of the car.
My belt was buckled. I resisted the urge to dig out my phone and send a few texts just to piss him off. “I assumed.”
“We are having an exceptionally old vampire transferring,” he went on, as if I hadn’t spoken, “but it’s being managed by Retrievals.”
The word real was inferred there ahead of Retrievals. “That’s good,” I said, blandly. But mentally I ticked off Taig’s rumor as fact. ‘Exceptionally ancient’ wasn’t a precise term, though. And damned if I was showing him I was interested by asking more.
“You’ve now seen the situation,” he said, calmly.
“I don’t need a unanimous vote, do I?” I asked him, just to make sure. And I’d double-check his answer with Arthur later.
“Just a majority.” And there was just a hint of amusement in the words. “You’re a smart woman. You know you’re on your knees, now.”
I considered that. I’d been on my knees plenty of times, and when shit got real, I’d often go there out of choice—to fight. “I should probably address the media requests I’ve been receiving since the last job I did.”
Where I’d saved Vincetto’s family. And a bunch of cops. And that was already known to the media.
“That would be excellent,” Jerome agreed, idly. “Clear up any misconceptions about poor Vincetto still being under the influence of vampires. Of course, having media involvement in most of our doings would be a lot more difficult.” He just tilted his head ever so slightly, watching me like a bug. “But I’m sure you’re right about this particular time.”
I got the inferred threat and didn’t bother to hide my amusement. “Let’s cut the dancing, Jerome. You tell me what you want, I’ll tell you what I’ll pay to get it.” Everyone knew you could catch flies with honey, but a hollowed-out corpse also worked, and I didn’t mind which way we went.
Arthur was going to flip.
He shrugged a little. “It’ll be a bit of work for me to deal with the council. Agreeing to reinstate you will mean discussions, paperwork. Annoyance. I’d consider some stress relief a fair trade.” He held my eyes. “And you are already on your knees, Aurora.”
Well, the gum was safe then. I popped open my bag, took out a stick and unwrapped it. My belly was a massive knot and that was just fine. “Just to clarify. You want me to suck your cock.”
“That isn’t what I said. There are many ways we can make one another’s life easier.”
Yeah, just in case I was recording this. But his eyes were on my mouth as I slid the gum between my teeth. I was happy to lick the boot, damned if I’d deepthroat it. “Cool. Well, to clarify, I’m actually not on my knees.” I folded the gum wrapper neatly. “I’m on the ground. And it just so happens that’s where I fight best.” I tucked the rubbish into my bag. “What I’ll offer you is that I’ll forget about this conversation and provide my expertise as a priority to you and yours for the remainder of the year.” I cocked my head, kept on smiling at him. He had a hard on and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. Climbing into his lap right now was tempting. I could do a lot of damage to that dick. And his genitals, too.
His brows rose a little. “Arthur speaks about you as a loyal witch. Your job is important to you.”
I felt the laugh bubble up in my chest. “Sure it is. It’s my life. I would absolutely go back to my Retrievals team—who, by the way, have requested me numerous times, including this morning—and use that work to fund an unfair dismissal case.” I sighed and he could make of that sound what he wanted. “The timing of this would be very inconvenient, too, what with Van Der Holst and Vincetto being compromised.” I met his eyes squarely. “And who knows who else could be dirty. Right, Jerome?”
He raised a brow. “Are you threatening me?”
I considered it. “I mean, you could buy a lot of masturbation sleeves or hours with a quality sex worker for the cost of fighting an unfair dismissal, couldn’t you?” His eyes were diamond hard and mean. “Oh, look. This is my stop. You going to give Xander the nod to let me out here?”
He didn’t glance out the window. “I don’t believe this discussion is finished.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I do.” I undid my seatbelt, my keys and wand in my hand as I steeled myself. “Just as an FYI, mate, I’ve jumped out of helicopters way more times than you’ve successfully convinced vulnerable folks to dick ride you, so I have no qualms with making a scene right now and throwing this door open.” Maybe just a few. A helicopter was light years away from a car in traffic and my armor was a wafer-thin dress.
“You have a revolting turn of phrase, Aurora.” And he ended the spell. “Xander, please stop at your earliest convenience. Ms. Gold has another appointment.”
“For what it’s worth,” I said, taking out my phone. “My offer stands until,” I checked the time. “Tonight. Make sure I’m at least BCC’d into any correspondence today if you’d like to take me up on it.”
He said nothing as the car stopped. I glanced out, saw the tram beside us. Close enough. I opened the door, climbed out into the rain and, heart in my throat, dashed toward safety.