Page 1012 of One More Kiss

Chapter2

I spentthat afternoon researching Benedict Abercrombie and his tea company. It didn’t take long to figure out that the Abercrombie Company hadn’t gotten involved in importing tea until it became a rare commodity.

“There’s at least one person who wasn’t hurt by the Tea Apocalypse,” I murmured to myself as I scrolled through a list of the holdings they’d acquired recently.

“I take it you mean our mutual employer.” A tall, dark-haired man closed the door behind him. “Hi. I’m Connor Cole.” He held out his hand, and I stood to shake it.

“Harlowe McKee. I take it you’re the shifter he sent to help out—or keep an eye on me, maybe?”

He ducked his head, one lip quirking up in a slightly crooked grin, and glanced up at me through envy-inducing lashes. “Yep. That’s the plan.”

I bit back my irritation at having to include a stranger in my investigation and managed a smile. “I was planning to head down to Houston to interview the people who unloaded the missing shipment. Want to go with me? You can tell me what you know about the case on the way.”

“Sure. I’m all yours.”

His statement pulled me up short, reminding me as it did of a comment my former business partner—and boyfriend—had once made.

Jonah hadn’t been telling the truth, as I had discovered when I caught him in bed with another woman, and for a moment, I wondered if Connor Cole was lying, as well.

Keeping one hand down below the desk, out of Connor’s line of sight, I wove a quick spell, sending a tiny tendril of magic out into the air. It swirled through the air and around Cole, picking up information.

Abercrombie had told me Cole was some kind of shifter, but not what kind.

The magic pulsed back to me, confirming the shifter bit.

I spun the magic around in my fingertips, letting it fizz against my skin.

Not any kind of shifter I had encountered before, however. He wasn’t a werewolf, or a bear shifter, or even a snake shifter, rare as those were.

No, he carried a hint of something canine. Not one of the giant black hound shifters, either though. There was something wilder than that in him.

I flicked the magic up to my mouth, letting it sparkle against my lips and tongue. It tasted too rangy to be a fox, way too canine to be one of the big cats.

Finally deciding he was something entirely new to me, I rolled the magic into a tiny ball between my forefinger and thumb, then with a squeeze and a pop, allowed it to dissipate back into the air around us.

Connor quirked a grin at me. “Find anything interesting?”

I blinked, forcing myself not to show my surprise. Shifters generally didn’t recognize magic when it was deployed by a mage. They tended to have heightened senses in line with their animal sides, but not necessarily a recognition of magical forces.

“A little,” I acknowledged. “Not as much as I wanted to. What kind of shifter are you?”

“Coyote,” he said, his grin growing sharper. “See how easy it was to simply ask?”

I shrugged. “In my line of work, I find people are more likely to lie than not. But coyote definitely fits with what I sensed.” Without waiting for him to respond, I changed the subject. “How did you end up working for Abercrombie?”

“My parents went to college with him in the UK. So, when he came to Texas, he reached out. He said he wanted someone with local knowledge to help out as he set up his business here.”

“Are you a born shifter, or turned?”

“Born, on my father’s side. My mother’s British, and not a supernatural at all.”

“A coyote shifter attending college in the UK before the supernaturals were outed? That must have been interesting.”

“Oh, even more than you know. Apparently he didn’t tell Mom he was a shifter until she was pregnant with me.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” He grinned again, a dimple appearing in one cheek.

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