Page 72 of Ashes and Lilies
“Mr. Weaver?” My interest piqued, and I tucked the note into my pocket. “How do you know about that?” I asked her.
“I have my sources.” She grimaced. “Extremely irritating sources.”
“Anyway,” she said, pursing her lips. She leaned forward, almost conspiringly, as she whispered. “Keep away from Alexander Cole and anyone related to him. Especially Daniel—he might be my great-nephew, but don’t trust him for a minute.”
Wasn’t Alexander the chief of police? What else did she know? I opened my mouth to ask, but my courage failed.
“What?” she asked, noticing.
“What—” I glanced past her. The boy who’d been lingering had left at some point. “What do you teach?”
“I’m the chair of the criminal justice department,” she replied as her vision ran over me. “What’s yourmajor?” she asked.
“B-biology,” I answered, slinking. She was doing that weird judgy-eye thing again. “I’m planning to study botany.”
Her forehead wrinkled as she hummed under her breath. “Interesting.”
Then, without further clarification and with a surprising show of agility, she pulled over a chair, sat down, and crossed her ankles.
“Now that we’re alone,” she said. “I would visit Grace sooner rather than later. She’s only fourteen years older than me, but she isn’t in the best of health. Your time is limited.”
“Oh,” I began, and my response turned to silence.
But that didn’t deter her, and she continued, “Grace was nineteen when she married Edward Cole—Alexander’s father. He was the last owner of the Hathaway residence.”
I sat up in my seat and grabbed my notepad. I wasn’t sure why she was telling me this now, but this was probably important.
“Edward was fifty-one when Grace married him, but no one—not even my parents—could intervene because she had consented and was of age. He also had influence. He was a popular judge and had many friends. By the time they got married, he’d already abandoned the house. There was some talk of crimes being committed—girls disappearing throughout the years—but all investigations were dropped. I was a nosy child and snooped when my sister was forced to be with him, but it ended with a curse and her sending me away.”
“A curse?” I asked, peeking up from my scribbling notes. “What curse?”
“Never mind that.” Ms. Protean waved her hand in the air. “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with.”
I frowned—somehow, it seemed relevant, or it might be one day in the future. However, she was the expert. “How do you know she didn’t want to be with him?” I asked instead.
“We were close, and I knew her mannerisms,” Ms. Protean replied. “What’s more, I could smell her fear.”
Smell? A sense of apprehension touched me. “Are you a shifter?”
Ms. Protean’s lips turned down as she tapped her finger on her knee. “I’m getting the impression that you’re less aware of yourself than you should be, although I’m not certain how that’s possible,” she said.
My skin flushed.
“Yes, I’m a shifter,” she replied. “I’m a wolf, to be exact—although I am not a member of any pack. I’m also a Proxy Officer.” She gazed at me, but I wasn’t sure what to say.
So I only nodded.
“Caleb Weaver was in my quintet,” she said.
I nodded again. That explained why she’d become invested in the crime against him. Despite the grumpy man’s feelings about her pet, they must have been good friends.
“We’re Elder Tongjuns,” she continued, still watching me in that evaluative way.
Tongjuns were the third-in-command, right? I was pretty sure I was getting the hang of this. Regardless, I was beginning to get a little unnerved by her scrutiny. “O-okay,” my voice wavered. “So, you’re kind of like Dr. Stephens and Detective Kohler?”
“Gregory!” Ms. Protean’s critical expression turned sour. “Almost. But they’re Elder Er Bashous, although we worked on the same team professionally in the past. That being said, their observational skills appear lacking these days.”
I had my pencil poised to write, but I was still looking at her.
