Page 52 of Werewolves Don't Howl
He shook his head. “On second thought, without affiliation won’t work. It’ll take months to train sufficiently for your beast to be under control, and in that time, you’ll be familiar with my members. I was going to put a spell on you after we spent a few days here, so you’d forget faces, names, scents, etc. but after months of familiarity, the spell would be stronger and have dangerous side-effects.”
I stared at him, my mouth agape. “You were going to put me under a spell that messes with my brain, and you only just mentioned it?”
He gave me a beatific smile and put a muffin in my mouth. “I trust you with my secret identities, but my associates are under my protection.”
I chewed the delicious thing, hot blueberries bursting on my tongue. “I guess that’s out then. Too bad. I was really looking forward to gardening with you.” I rolled my eyes. It was a stupid idea in the first place.
“We have members of the house that aren’t assassins. Some report to me about societies that they’re close to.”
“You mean spies? You’d want me to spy for you? I’m a society reporter. I report everything I learn to the public. And I don’t affiliate with any secret societies or members…” I’d been living in Singsong City for a long time. I’d been there through the dark days when the Undercity was run by demons, and more recent when the real estate prices shot up when all the elite wealthy moved back. I knew everyone in polite society, and I knew that a lot of them had secrets. I didn’t go looking for anything that wasn’t polite, because that wasn’t my job, specifically because I didn’t want anyone to uncover my secrets, but they were there.
He squeezed my hand. “Miss Era, you are closer to Clay than anyone else I can think of. I have been curious for some time about what secret societies he dabbles in. Then there’s Leticia Marin. Did you know that her nephew is a mafia boss in Apple City? What events is she orchestrating behind those lovely garden parties?”
I gaped at him. “Keep Leticia out of this. You’re suspicious of everyone.”
He brushed my nose with his, sending a shiver of awareness through me. For a moment it struck me, how close I was being held by the strong, sensationally delicious elf of my dreams. Why didn’t I hate that more?
“I am suspicious of exactly the number of people who are suspicious. Do you agree to be allied to the House of Mercy as long as I am its head?”
I bristled and crossed my arms, sitting up so I was barely perched on his knees instead of being sprawled on him, surrounded by his muscular arms. “If I don’t agree, you’re going to spell my mind?”
His violet eyes glimmered. “Yes.”
“That’s not much of a choice.”
“You won’t remember what you forgot.”
I pushed on his chest, but his pectorals flexed under my palms and I pulled them back like I’d been burnt. “I don’t want to spy on my friends.”
“If you weren’t a spy, but you became aware of a situation where someone was going to do something that would harm innocent people, would you report it? Of course you would. You wouldn’t even let Zephin Clay, close family friend, get away with torturing kittens.”
“So I’d just live my regular life, only report to you if I happen to stumble on a drug ring?”
He smiled. “Think how fun that will be. We’ll go to political parties and then afterwards we can talk about everyone there, who talked to who, who was allergic to shellfish, who seemed suddenly more than comfortably wealthy, like they’d just gotten a fresh infusion of illegal funds.”
“Illegal funds? I thought you were only interested in hunting monsters.”
“So it’s settled then. I’ll arrange the usual bindings after breakfast.” He gave me a blinding smile that made me feel like I was falling off the edge of a cliff. No, like he’d pushed me off the edge of a cliff.
ChapterFourteen
“No one has your way with difficult people,” Nannette said, trying to lure me back to the city before I had to go to Bama for my brother Bram’s wedding.
“I’m still working on my big article. It’s taking more time than I thought.”
Actually, I was kneeling in the garden next to Cross, trying to commune with the sapling between my knees. For four hours. After that, it was knitting with Marv the Gnome Cross had brought in while Lynx worked hard to tangle all the yarn. Cross would also be there. For four hours. After that was working the beast with Harold. Cross would be there too. He wasn’t the charming Senator Silverton here. He was the Head of the House of Mercy, which means that I saw him at his core. His core was tireless, meticulous, perfectionist, and demanding. In my particular case that meant he saw clearly what the possibilities were and would push you until you reached them.
I’d been sleep deprived and physically, mentally, emotionally drained for the last three months. But I was starting to see progress.
I focused on the sapling, breathing in the air, feeling it vibrate as I tuned in to the magnetic pulses around me, the music that wove through natural magic. I sank my fingers into the soil and pushed the roots deeper. You didn’t focus on growth up, but down. Build the roots and the branches would flourish.
“You could send a photo, a little teaser for when you give me the article.” Nanette’s voice was harsh against my nerves, making the beast stir.
No. I had to maintain the beast’s peace, or I wouldn’t be able to touch the Elven magic. It would be much easier without the call, but of course the call’s purpose was to help me work with jarring, irritating distractions. Like Cross himself wasn’t enough.
“Mm. I’m still working on all the details, like whether I want to publish in a larger paper first. I’ll let you know.”
She sighed. “The senator’s rubbing off on you. I suppose it’s good that you’re learning to be a bit more clever.”
