“We’re going to take them out,” he said in two voices.

My eyes widened. “Why is that happening? Your voice, your eyes.”

Devereaux pressed his lips together. “My predator and I are in absolute agreement.”

“What about?”

“That no one will ever lay a finger on you.”

7

We’d rolled through water nearly high enough to enter the carriage for some time, but now we creaked to a stop before two stone pillars coated in slime and mold. The attached gates were rusty and hung askew.

Initial impression? The kraken’s nest left a lot to be desired. Despite that, I couldn’t help peeking out.

At a glance, the Dethnels’ estate appeared to be an expansive wetland with no buildings, but a closer look showed me that small channels and moats wormed in an impossible maze for as far as the eye could see.

I suppose descendants with a water affinity wouldn’t live above ground. They must sleep under the surface.

I shivered as a voice crackled through a rusty speaker on one of the stone pillars.

“Detective Vincori, Cerys Concordia, we’ve been expecting you. Enter.”

That was easy.

The carriage rolled forward through the water, and I eyed it nervously. I was a good swimmer, but the water had a dim, slimy appearance I really didn’t want to dip my favorite tan boots into.

Devereaux and I exchanged a glance in the dark.

This estate visit felt different to the others. More… loaded? Like a cocked gun. We weren’t just here digging about the break-in—which was our cover story again—we were here for Dev’s dad and the alliance too. On top of that, the Dethnels, one of the top four rich families were neck-deep in the criminal underbelly of Nepos and knew what I was.

A growl ripped from Devereaux’s throat, and his muscles strained at the material of his long coat. One of his irises turned blue again.

“What’s up?” I murmured low.

He drew in a long inhale, fisting his hands. “Having some trouble with you here.”

Maybe revealing my real type on the way here wasn’t the best idea.

I had to calm him down, but there could be cameras on us and people listening. Time to speak in code. “That attitude won’t help to keep Yearning Hearts safe,” I said to his predator. “Your usual work will.”

Devereaux shook.

“Even if you don’t agree, we probably need both to be the same color,” I added.

His blue iris faded to gray, and he exhaled, throwing me a grateful look. He cleared his throat and straightened. “I agree, Miss Concordia.”

The carriage halted again, and a tentacle slapped against the window where it dragged downward and curled around the handle before yanking.

“Stay close, please,” my berserker muttered under his breath.

I followed him out, wrinkling my nose at the fishy smell. At least my tan boots weren’t wet yet—we stood upon a large, flat stone.

A huge kraken head popped up to my left and I held my ground… just.

The descendant’s bulbous head was dark green and shiny with slime. Its eyes were pitch-black, and the water type spoke from a huge red beak. “This way.”

I released a slow exhale at the swordlike teeth filling the visible parts of his—or her—mouth.