Date: 2022-01-09 08:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Paranormal; Romance; Vampires; Adult
Description: What do jazz pixies, siren celebrities, and three hundred disastrous dates with supernatural men have in common? Me. I’m Cerys. And at twenty-two years old, running a paranormal dating agency with my bestie and living in the magical society of Nepos is an amazing life. Not gonna lie though, it’d be better with a little action. Kissing, maybe? A one-armed hug? Heck, after three years, I’ll take a man touching my bedsheets. Or would if this curse didn't 100 percent block me from romance. When my ‘extinct’ brand of magic explodes in the presence of true love, the off-the-charts sexy but infuriati
Publisher: Independently published

LOVE & CURSE MAKING

KELLY ST. CLARE

Love & Curse Making
by Kelly St. Clare

Copyright © January, 2022

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, media, and incidents are either products of the authors’ imagination, or are used fictitiously.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

Edited by Hot Tree Editing

Cover design by Book Cover For You

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by fines and federal imprisonment

CONTENTS

About the Author

Descendants

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

A Letter To A Witch

LOVE & MAGIC SHAKING

While You Wait

Books By Kelly St. Clare

Join the Book Barracks!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

When Kelly is not reading or writing, she is lost in her latest reverie.

Books have always been magical and mysterious to her. One day she decided to unravel this mystery and began writing.

Her works include The Tainted Accords, Pirates of Felicity, Supernatural Battle, and the Honey & Ice Trilogy.

Kelly resides in New Zealand with her red-bearded husband, a great group of friends, and whatever animals she can add to her horde.

Join her newsletter tribe for sneak peeks, release news, and disjointed musings at kellystclare.com/free-gifts/

DESCENDANTS

Jupiter’s Line

Generation One

Mage Maester

Generation Two

Earth Mage

Water Mage

Fire Mage

Air Mage

Generation Three

Werewolf

Juno’s Line

Generation One

Nymph Maester

Generation Two

Water Nymph

Forest Nymph

Generation Three

Unicorn

Harpy

Mars’s Line

Generation One

Rhage

Generation Two

Berserker

Venus’s Line

Generation One

Heart Maester

Generation Two

Heart Elemental

Maiden

Generation Three

Cupid

Minerva’s Line

Generation One

Sphinx

Generation Two

Shapeshifter

Phoenix

Generation Three

Griffin

Neptune’s Line

Generation One

Water Maester

Generation Two

Water Elemental

Water Guardian

Earth Guardian

Generation Three

Selkie

Mermaid

Siren

Kraken

Diana’s Line

Generation One

Warlock

Generation Two

Witch

Wizard

Generation Three

Genie

Vampire

Centaur

Apollo’s Line

Generation One

Healer

Generation Two

Healing Elemental

Oracle

Generation Three

Banshee

Muse

Vulcan’s Line

Generation One

Daemon

Generation Two

Incubus

Succubus

Charities

Generation Three

Wraith

Poltergeist

Ghoul

Vesta’s Line

Generation One

Brownie Maester

Generation Two

Mother Fairy

Brownie

Generation Three

Sun Fairy

Gremlin

Boggart

Mercury’s Line

Generation One

Goblin

Generation Two

Pixie

Imp

Generation Three

Jazz Pixie

Echo Imp

Ceres’s Line

Generation One

Earth Maester

Generation Two

Earth Elemental

Generation Three

Gnome

Spirte

1

I entered my apartment and let the incubus—Tarquin, was it?—inside.

The handsome blond glanced around the open-plan bedroom and lounge. “Just move in?”

I followed his sweeping gaze as it landed on the tidy row of sealed boxes by the far window seat. They contained the ornaments from the empty shelves opposite the bed. Ornaments presented a falling hazard. On nights like this, it meant they had to go away.

As his eyes continued their curious sweep, I ran the final checks.

Before the date tonight, I’d cleared my desk of all objects barring a small card with the usual phone number on it. My bed wasn’t under the small chandelier. The bedposts were bubble-wrapped after last night’s episode, and I’d taped the rug edges down. The appliances were switched off and unplugged.

This night would inevitably be ruined, probably within the next few minutes, but I’d be damned if the same disaster struck twice.

“Something like that,” I murmured, allowing myself a quick once over of the tall, muscular hunk. Incubi were never hard on the eyes, and they were perfect for the job I required—their sensual presence tended to confuse other magic.

“A woman of mystery.” Tarquin sauntered into the room, kicking the door behind him. Lunging, I just managed to catch the handle before the damned thing slammed and set off my neighbor’s feline familiar, whose yowling would set off the jazz pixie’s hellhound on the second floor, who would yank at his tether and rip a chunk of the water piping out, which would flood my apartment, causing my date to slip and break his big toe.

Wish I was joking.

That happened last month.

I dialed my smile to full wattage and ran a hand down my sleek, ash-blonde braids, watching in satisfaction as his focus dropped to the pink tips, which rested over my breasts. “Not at all. I’m an open book.”

Lie.

There were some things I just couldn’t speak aloud. Probably a lot of things if I sat down to think about it. Which I wouldn’t—because that sounded like a night that would end with me sobbing over avocado-covered chocolate.

“Shall we, handsome?” I peered past his shoulder to the bed, then lowered my lashes, hooking the bottom of my black silk camisole to draw the garment overhead.

His gaze hooded as my black bra and the contents therein were revealed.

The incubus hurried forward, reaching to grip my hips, but I side-stepped him and walked to the bed, throwing him a flirty look to soften the blow. Touch had to be as minimal as possible until it would count for the most.

“I didn’t know your type liked to be chased.” He purred, green eyes roaming my petite frame.

We didn’t. Well, not this one anyway.

I shoved down my white pleated skirt without preamble. “There are a few things you may learn about me tonight.” Women thought guys would say anything to get into their skirts? They’d never met me. Three minutes after Tarquin left, I’d have a hard time remembering his name. He would join the astronomically huge list of the other nameless dates who’d gone before him.

Three large strides and Tarquin was before me.

My pulse quickened.

Good.

We were close to the business part of the evening and we were by a bed. I took a shallow breath. Maybe, just maybe, tonight would be the night I had sex for the first time in three years.

“Got a condom?” I didn’t bother to use my bedroom voice. Kind of hard to make that question sexy in my experience, but the magical descendant community could catch sexual diseases just the same as the human community.

He snorted. “I’m an incubus, darling.”

This time my smile was genuine. “Right. True.” I leaned back on the bed, propping up on my elbows. “What are you waiting for?”

Tarquin slipped a condom from his wallet, setting it aside briefly to tear off his clothes. After, he fixed me with a smoldering look. “I’m going to rock your world.”

“I want you inside me,” I replied with appropriate breathlessness. That usually hurried things along.

Sure enough, Tarquin tore off the wrapper with his teeth and rolled the condom over his tip.

Thwack.

I shrieked, clutching at my face as pain erupted in my left eye.

The incubus grabbed at my wrists a second later. “Shit. Did it hit you?”

“Was that the condom?” I hissed between gritted teeth.

“I’m so sorry, Cerys! That’s never happened before.”

A condom just pinged me in the fucking eye.

That was a new one.

“Let me check,” he blurted.

I squeezed both eyes shut against the sting, unwilling to remove my hands from the left side of my face just yet. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Got another condom?”

The muffled laughter of a group walking on the street outside became sorely obvious in the silence that followed my question.

Tarquin cleared his throat. “Are you sure? You can’t open your eyes.”

I forced the right eyelid to open. This night wasn’t ending just yet. “It’s fine, really. Let’s do it.”

The blond incubus shrugged a shoulder after a beat. “Uh, okay. Sure. Yeah. Let me just…” Extracting another condom, he opted to open it the non-sex-demon way this time. He paused to fling me a forced smile. “I’ll take your mind off it, I promise.” He rolled the condom over his—

Thwack!

Clutching my right eye, I rolled in agony on the bed, clamping my lips against a scream that would have been part pain and part frustration.

“Oh, fuck! Cerys, I—”

“It’s okay,” I gasped, gulping in large breaths.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. I’ve done this hundreds if not thousands of times.”

Firstly, gross.

Secondly, still gross.

Thirdly, this wasn’t his fault. Unbeknown to Tarquin, he was on the receiving end of some pretty serious magic right now.

“Seriously, I’m fine. Have you got another?” I only had two eyes. If I kept them covered, this could still happen.

In this silence, I listened to the faint jingle of an infomercial coming from the poltergeist’s penthouse apartment. He liked to blare them at top volume when he first woke up.

“Uhm. I mean… your eyes are bleeding.”

I smiled widely. “No. They’re good. They’re good.”

“Seriously, something is. It’s trickling out from beneath your hands. Eye jelly or something.”

“I’m still game if you are,” I said brightly.

A third silence.

I didn’t trouble myself to stop the gigantic sigh that left my ruby lips. “This is over, isn’t it?”

His feet shuffled against the wooden floor. “I think you need to visit a hospital. I’m so sorry.”

Great. Another date down the drain.

I’d hoped he’d at least touch my bedsheets.

“Don’t worry about it.” With my leaking condom eyes still covered, I jerked my head in the direction of the desk. “Be a gem and call the number on the card there, would you?”

“You have a healer friend?”

No, I had a healer on retainer.

It was only smart considering I was cursed to never find love.

2

Soleil attacked me the moment I stepped into our office. “Tell me everything. It’s Gossip O’clock, and I want it bad.”

“I went on a date last night,” I grumbled half-heartedly, tossing my soft-pink tote onto my desk and vaguely noting the heavy thud. Maybe I should stop putting things in there and start taking them out every so often…

My siren bestie threw herself onto her seat, grabbing her prepared coffee and spinning to watch me with unveiled anticipation. “Obviously, babe. You go on a date every Friday and Saturday. Seriously, I live for Monday mornings. Your date stories are a drug, and I’m an addict. Give me a hit.”

Soleil was the only person in the world who knew about my curse—aside from the witch who’d done it.

Making her wait, I walked to the small kitchenette on one side of the office space that had cost us a small fortune three years ago.

Ugh, instant coffee.

One day I’d learn to stop for coffee on the way to work. “Friday night was with a guy named…” I paused. “Shoot, what was his name?”

The clatter of Soleil’s nails sounded against the keyboard. “His name was Fergus.”

My brow cleared. “That’s right. Fergus.”

There were a couple of perks to co-owning a dating agency. Yes, my curse to never find love was all the more ironic, but finding dates to help loosen the curse was easy.

“Fergus,” I repeated, ignoring her snigger. “He was an earth elemental who wanted to try a complicated position straight out the gate.” I choked on a sip of my instant coffee. It didn’t help that I’d heaped three tablespoons of the stuff in there, but I couldn’t get by without caffeine, even crap caffeine.

Soleil leaned forward, her brilliant green eyes—one of the trademarks of her descendant type—huge. “Tell me. It’s good. I know it. Tell me what happened, damn you!”

I mumbled my answer.

She whacked both palms on her tidy desk. “Louder!”

“He fell back and sat on the bedpost.”

Her lips parted. “Sat… on it. What do you mean?”

I met her piercing siren gaze.

She shot to her feet, covering her mouth. “No!”

Last Friday, Fergus got the penetration he never bargained for. “Yes.”

“No, no, no.” She spun in a full circle and met my eyes again. “Yes. I mean, poor guy, but the entertainment value of his pain and suffering… Yes! Yes, yes, yes.”

Having had front-row seats to the show, I was yet to see the funny side. And after what happened to my bedpost, I’d been searching for a new frame.

Soleil waved her hands in the air, face red and nearly a match for her beautiful hair. “You can’t top that one. Not ever. But who was the Saturday guy?”

I dutifully recounted my not-so-successful night with Tarquin, watching as my best friend’s face morphed from red to purple. “… Then when the healer arrived, he waited around for an hour out of guilt before making up an excuse about an aunt with a broken leg so he could leave.”

Soleil placed her coffee atop the dating applications stacked on either side of her keyboard. I had to ignore her extreme tidiness or it messed with my work mojo. She was next-level organized.

My best friend interlaced her hands and regarded me. “To make sure I completely understand this, Cerys…”

I waited.

“A condom hit you in the left eye.”

Rolling said eyes—that were good as new thanks to the healer at the hospital—I downed the rest of my crap coffee and set the mug in the sink.

Soleil continued. “Following this, a second condom hit you in the right eye. Correct?”

I faced her and wrapped my long olive-green cardigan around me. It was a bit cold for jean shorts and a midriff top, but I was determined to hold onto summer until the bitter end.

Her lips wobbled. “In essence. Unless I’m mistaken. You became… a blind date.”

I snorted despite my determination not to.

That was a pretty good one.

Standing, Soleil crossed the length of our office, passing me in the kitchenette, and disappeared into our printer room.

Walking to take my seat at my very messy desk, I listened to her howling laughter through the closed door that muffled it not at all. She’d be laughing for a while. My dates last weekend were bad, even for cursed dates.

I switched on the computer and pulled up my appointments for the day. As always, the diary was filled to the brim with descendants on the search for love. I cracked my knuckles. Let me at them.

The bell above the door rang, and I glanced up, checking the clock. My first appointment wasn’t due for another hour.

I met the glacial blue eyes of a guy just a few years older than myself—well, we were in Nepos and only descendants could get through the charm surrounding our magical suburb, so this guy could be any age whatsoever. But he appeared to be just a few years older.

Despite the guy’s glacial eyes, his posture exuded warmth as did the uncertain smile on his face. Oh brother, I was a sucker for a square jaw. I swore this curse had made me notice hot guys more due to simple sex deprivation.

Most importantly, I could assume this man wasn’t my first appointment—being that he wasn’t half horse.

I stood. “Hi. Welcome to Yearning Hearts. Can I help you?”

He peered around. “Hey, are you Cerys? I’m Austin.”

In the awkward seconds that followed, it became clear he wouldn’t offer anything more.

I stepped around my desk. “Austin, it’s lovely to meet you. What can I do for you today? If it’s true love you’re after, then I’m afraid we have a long waiting list, but I’d be happy to start the process…” I trailed off.

His brows furrowed.

“… Unless you’re not after true love?”

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m here for the job. Unless I have my wires crossed, then I was meant to start today?”

He was?

Austin rubbed the back of his head. “Shit. I knew it was too good to be true.”

Really? Yearning Hearts was kickass—I lived and breathed my work—but usually other people didn’t really get it. “Don’t expire from despair yet. I’m not the brains around here. Soleil organizes this stuff, so I’ll just—” Another burst of howling laughter erupted from behind the printer room door. I blew out a breath. “Uh, she’ll be with you in a moment.”

His smile turned lopsided. “Something funny?”

“Her pet just died,” I replied with a straight face, taking in his resulting blanch before I gestured at the love seat by the bay windows on either side of the entrance. “Take a pew. She won’t be long.”

I sat again.

Did Soleil mention this guy to me? Hiring another person felt strange. Not only that, but his presence could be problematic on several levels. He was attractive, for starters. If I wasn’t careful, too much lust would trigger the curse in our expensive office space. If he was also here, ignoring that square jaw and lopsided smile could be difficult. Yearning Hearts meant too much to me to mess with it that way.

I looked up and met Austin’s glacial eyes before averting my attention back to the computer screen. What type was he? With a lot of descendants, their type was obvious. Soleil, for instance, red hair and green eyes denoted her as a siren. Half horse? A centaur. Austin’s type wasn’t obvious, and unfortunately, asking was a massive faux pas in our culture.

Focus, Cerys.

“Trent the Centaur,” I murmured at the screen. “What’s your story?”

Excitement and pent-up magic thrummed in my veins, but I was careful not to let any pink power escape my fingertips in Austin’s presence. I usually released my magic into the computer first thing in the mornings on weekdays. Being Monday, I’d let it build up all weekend. Now, a slight sweat broke out on my brow as I forced the fickle power to stay inside.

That was the second and far larger problem. I maybe not know what Austin’s type was, but though the black heart tattoo I’d drawn on my collarbone made my type obvious, he could never know how powerful I truly was.

I lifted my head to find the guy still staring.

Dammit. Trent the Centaur. I had work to do if I wanted there to be more love in the world by 5:00 p.m., which was my daily goal.

Head down again, I scrolled through Trent’s questionnaire answers. We got people who were just after a booty call on the regular, but Trent wasn’t one of them. He’d been drawn to our slogan, “We Believe Love Doesn’t Discriminate.” The more animalistic of the descendants copped a bit of superiority complex from other types. Being a centaur, Trent was a generation three descendant, so he’d get more of that attitude in general.

Trent felt lonely and inept when it came to finding love. My heart squeezed, and I sniffed. “We’re gonna help you out, buddy. Don’t you worry about that.”

The door to the printer room opened, and a cool-faced Soleil exited, taking in Austin without batting an eyelash. “Mr. Lanaray.”

He leaped up from the love seat. My friend had that effect on people. “Soleil?”

“Correct.”

I leaned back, crossing my legs. “Austin here says he’s here for the job.” I cocked a brow.

She placed a hand on her hip. “Which I told you about two weeks ago, condom eyes.”

I glared at her as Austin’s focus darted between us.

Her expression didn’t falter. “Sorry. Freudian slip. I mean, Cerys.”

To be fair, she might have mentioned hiring Austin. When I got into work, other details tended to vacate the building. The exact reason why I didn’t handle anything to do with business operations. “And what did I say during this conversation?”

Soleil pivoted to him. “I can’t do anything without a healthy breakfast. Before we discuss your role here in greater depth, could you pop down to Sonny’s Sugary and get us a dozen chocolate muffins?”

She said us, but my friend would eat them all in the next two days and still have no trouble maintaining her athletic figure.

Austin shot me a quick look. “Uh, sure thing.” He accepted the money from her and, with the soft ring of the bell above the door, was gone again.

Crossing to the kitchenette, I set about making another coffee. “That there is one good-looking problem for us.”

She huffed and plonked down at her desk. “There are times I could choose to become offended by your serious lack of memory and attention.”

“There are times I could choose to become offended when you laugh because I got blinded by condoms on the weekend.”

Soleil’s lips wobbled, but she managed not to sink into printer-room hysterics again. “Okay, I’ll repeat the main points of the discussion we definitely had two weeks ago and again last week. One, we are in dire need of admin assistance. It’s getting too much for just me, and you know anything less than perfection is a no-no-go-go for me.”

“Why not just say no-go?”

“Why not just say no-no-go-go?”

True. “It’s more what he may see and hear, Sol. You know I have… stuff.”

“To which I have told you that Austin will work mostly from home. He’ll only come in on occasion to liaise with me.”

Huh…

Right. That did make me feel better.

I sipped at my triple-shot instant coffee and grimaced. “Don’t we make enough to get at least plunger coffee instead of instant?”

“We do. But money is money.” A fierce gleam entered her eyes.

Soleil left her asshole and extremely rich family behind at seventeen, and she had something to prove. She went overboard sometimes, but I could thank her for my shiny apartment on Ceres Close, so I didn’t complain too often.

“We need Austin then,” I said.

“We need Austin if we want to help more people find true love.”

I wanted that more than anything in the world. The calling was in my blood, a drive I was incapable of refusing. “Change feels odd after so long.” Five years with Yearning Hearts and it had always been the two of us.

“Moving into this office space from our mobile operations three years ago was a big change as well.”

I nodded. A huge accomplishment too. Our business was just off Nox Street, a feat that cost all the money from the sale of my grandmother’s house plus the money from selling three of Soleil’s gold siren feathers on the black market. And that was just for the deposit. “Okay, Austin can stay. It will be an adjustment, but a good one.”

“Which is what you’ve said the last two times we had this conversation.”

“Good to know I’m consistent.”

She tossed her red hair back, and I absently noted the shimmer that rippled over her skin. The shimmer wasn’t a natural catching of the light. Most generation three descendants possessed some Apollo power and tended to be glossy even in the darkest rooms. “For the record. We’re not adjusting to shit. Austin will adjust to us. We’ll barely see him. You’ll see.”

Time would tell.

I checked the clock and hustled back to my desk. We hadn’t raised the blinds covering the bay windows yet. Austin wasn’t back. The coast was clear.

I rested my forefinger against my computer and let my pink magic flow. My shoulders sagged at the release. That felt so much better.

Soleil tilted her head my way. “Hey, back to the dates though. Do you think they helped at all? I mean, Tarquin nearly touched the bed this time, right?”

Three years ago, I couldn’t even look at a hot guy without something happening. “The dates definitely loosen the curse. Just slowly.” So slowly it threatened to break me sometimes.

Over three hundred dates and a buttload of effort, and I could nearly get a guy into bed. I shuddered as the misery of three hundred more dates crept in at the corners of my mind.

A ball of paper hit me in the temple, and I scowled at Soleil.

She leaped in fake fright. “Sweet Minerva, are you scowling at me, Cerys?” She dropped the act. “You’re too cute to pull off scary. Get to work. I don’t pay you to be sad. Or have feelings.”

Shaking my head and biting back a grin, I opened our dating software that just received some extra juice from my magic. “Trent, my friend,” I muttered to myself. “If she’s in our system already, then you’re about to find your real match.”

Or I wasn’t a cupid.

3

Right shoulder weighed down by my gigantic tote, I strolled down Nox Street. Bright storefronts and busy cafes, shops of all colors and sizes shoved together, music blared from any number of restaurants and food kiosks. Tiny tables hung from the restaurant ceilings, fully occupied by the smaller descendent types: pixies and fairies, including glowing sun fairies or “fairy lights” as some had started to call them—human culture seeped into Nepos from time to time. This street was a bustle and an energy in its own right. I’d live on it if I was a ka-trillionaire. But being that I preferred my soul within me instead of on the black market, walking down Nox Street after work each evening was the next best thing.

I snorted as a water mage shot her drink into her date’s face and stormed off. I couldn’t help double-taking as a horned and red-skinned demon entering The Three-Eyed Oracle’s shop ahead. Didn’t see generation ones every day. A forest nymph sitting with his family shot out a vine to grab the wrist of his daughter as she attempted to run away.

Inhaling, I breathed in the magic of the Roman gods suffusing the air.

Near on a thousand years ago, they’d decided to depart the universe and simply released their power into the world. Poof. Gone. Generation one descendants were the first to pop up afterward—twelve types, one born from the released power of each of the Roman gods. With a bit of mixing between the twelve types and humans over the centuries, the magic of generation one types was diluted down, and generation two descendants slowly appeared—twenty-six types of them. A bit more dilution again, and all number of types started to show up—something we referred to as generation three descendants. So far, twenty-four of them had been identified.

“Cerys! Hey.”

I looked back to see Austin jogging to catch up.

Huh. I waited for him. “Did you need something?”

He ran a hand through his wind-swept blond hair. “Glad I caught you. I just wanted to make sure everything was cool with me working at Yearning Hearts. It seemed like you weren’t aware of me joining the team.”

“I just forgot.” I glanced away. Noticing Austin was a no-no-go-go. If triggered, the curse could ruin our office space or hurt a client. I was banning thoughts of his square jaw from this moment forth.

“Good,” he said. “Either way, I wanted to reassure you that I’m not going to get in the way of your cupid magic.”

What? My heart pounded even as I delivered a calm reply. “You’re on the inside now, so I’ll confess the truth. I can’t really do cupid magic.” I leaned in and whispered dramatically, “It’s a ruse.”

He laughed on cue. Everyone always did. Because, well, duh—cupids didn’t have magic anymore.

I followed up. “Good for business though, right? Even if everyone secretly knows the truth, they’re still desperate enough to hope otherwise.”

The words felt both foreign and bitter in my mouth.

These days, cupids—a generation three descendant type—could only sense true love matches in super-close proximity. In times gone by, the generation ones and twos of our line, heart maesters and heart elementals, were drained for the ‘love-finding’ properties in their blood or enslaved. As a result, the magic of our type was extinct.

Except for me.

I still had the real juice. Pink magical arrows that would just love to shoot from my fingertips on a whim.

But couldn’t.

Because letting my magic become public knowledge would be like existing with a noose around my neck. All the shitbags would come for me. So I’d taken the only option remaining to me other than hiding in a pit. I chose to hide in plain sight amongst other cupids playing up their power to make a living in the dating agency field. A risk, yes, but so far, it was working out, and I couldn’t think of any other believable cover story when my magic had to release each day.

“You think some really believe you have magic?” he asked.

I nodded curtly, forcing the distasteful words out. “People in the pursuit of love will believe anything.”

Austin’s gaze dipped to my black heart tattoo. “You’re doing a better job of faking true power than most of the other cupids around. I’ve met some whose black hearts are drawn on all uneven and stuff.”

Yeah, and I wouldn’t be alive without those “other cupids.”

“Thanks. I use a stencil.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Look, I’ve got to get home. But I’ll see you around.”

His smile faltered. “Sure. Of course. See you around.”

Feeling like I’d kicked a puppy, I continued down Nox Street for another block, then entered Juno Park. Ah. I inhaled the rich and earthy scent of the oaks that occupied most of the park, and the last pieces of tension from my eventful weekend loosened their grip on my neck and shoulders.

Soleil was my rock.

This park was my hot bath.

The corners of my mouth turned upward at the sight of an old couple occupying a bench in front of the Neptune fountain set at the exact center of the park. My insides sighed at the sight of them.

A true love match.

Tears stung my eyes at the beauty of the thrumming magic between them. It must have been what gazing upon Venus was like once upon a time. Wondrous, awe-inspiring beauty. I slowed my step to bask in it as much as possible.

I passed another couple. Young. Not a true love match, but that was okay. The journey to love was important. It readied us for our other half. Genuine companionship was important at all stages of life.

Leaving the crowd to take the narrow path that led to Ceres Close, I let the chittering of sprites in nearby trees and the low melody of singing mermaids from the large pond further north wash over me.

The sound cut off without warning.

Used to it, I didn’t break stride. This part of the park dipped into the human suburb, Gyes Pa. From what I understood, to humans, this area of the park appeared as a tiny reserve butted up against the neighboring suburb, Treerton. A human walking between Gyes Pa and Treerton would never enter Nepos. The charmed barrier around our magical part of the city simply deposited them on the other side as if our suburb wasn’t here at all.

“Evening.” A masculine voice interrupted my reverie.

Oo, a human.

“Good evening,” I replied brightly, moving over for the twentysomething male to pass. I tried not to be obvious with my stare. They were just so interesting and un-magic.

Walking onward, I rounded the bend and spotted another human—an older female. Ha. Two humans in one night. I hadn’t seen one here in over a month.

I’d moved aside to let her pass when my feet welded to the ivy groundcover with a suddenness that robbed me of air.

My nose twitched.

I forced a smile as she went by.

My nose twitched again.

I sucked in a breath and hissed. “No. That’s a big no.”

Sometimes I could control my magic. As I’d figured out, the chance of success was higher when I made sure to release my power at regular intervals.

But today, with a true love match ripe for the picking, my magic was coming.

Cursing, I pivoted and staggered deeper into the trees to watch the younger male and older female walking in the same direction forty feet apart. A wave of power rose within me, compelling in its force. Cupid magic left very little space for logic, personal convenience, or my safety. It obeyed the heart and the heart alone.

I shook with the struggle to contain it.

My magic hadn’t done this to me in a long time. Despite the older couple I saw during my walk through the park, true love was rare. And therefore irresistible to the pink power building in my fingertips.

After a few attempts to walk away from the upcoming disaster, I gave up and crouched, peering around in mounting panic. Magicking humans was a massive no. Like, jail time and lose my money, apartment, and business kind of no.

Which meant nothing to my fickle magic.

My arm lifted as if controlled by puppet strings. Lacking the bow of heart elementals and heart maesters, my fingers curled into the shape of a gun. Warmth, wonder, and absolute yearning filled me from head to toe.

A pink arrow exploded from my pointer finger.

I had a split second to see it hit the older woman before my arm jerked, and a second pink arrow shot from my finger gun to hit the man ahead of her. Moaning low, I felt my legs give way, and I sank into the bed of ivy, hoping it wasn’t the poisonous kind.

A languidness seeped through me. The relief was immediate. A feeling of right settled on my shoulders.

Wiping cold sweat away, I crawled to peek out from behind my oak. The younger man had run to close the distance. A few feet from each other, he wrenched to a halt, and the pair stared at each other as though struck dumb.

Another step forward from each of them. The gap was closed.

The woman reached to cup the man’s cheek, and he covered her hand with his, joy bursting from their faces.

I dashed away a tear before it could drip from my chin. My smile trembled as they walked away hand in hand. Humans may be strange and boring, but they felt love just the same as us.

Speaking of magic…

“We got lucky,” I snapped at my magic—which was currently stretched out inside me like a gremlin who’d overindulged and sunk into a food coma. “You can’t do that! There’s always someone watching.” If we weren’t in the tiny human section of Juno Park, I had no doubt we would’ve been seen by any number of descendants. I had not come this far, building up my life to live in the open to be found out. Plus, law enforcers were scary bastards.

“I’m serious,” I hissed, returning to the path with legs that now obeyed me.

Sending a last glance after the human couple, I caught sight of them just before they blinked from view, probably to reappear in Treerton.

… Damn though.

Obeying the law might be a heck of a lot easier if breaking it didn’t feel so good.

4

“Bently,” I said to the wraith sitting opposite. “I’ve put you through our system and found two matches.”

The wraith’s wispy tendrils floated around its skeletal form, and his soft voice echoed through our office space. “You did?”

The yearning in his voice was a vise around my heart. “Sure did. After reviewing your questionnaire answers as well, I’d like to set you up on a date with a woman named Aurora. She’s a banshee. Are you interested in checking out her profile?”

“Please,” he echoed, almost snatching the sheet of paper from my hand.

Was he going to read it? Ha. Guess wraiths did have eyes in their sockets.

He scrutinized the sheet of paper, and I tried not to hold my breath. My dating software—that I zapped with magic each morning—told me that Bently and Aurora had an 83 percent chance of a love match. They weren’t a true love match, but 83 percent was a great stat for a general match, and I’d hate to see them pass it by. Finding true love really was a one in a million kind of deal.

“What do you say?” I prompted. “Want us to get in touch with her on your behalf and see if she’s interested in meeting?”

Bently nodded three times so fast that he blurred.

“Great. I’ll pass that onto our operations manager, Soleil, and she’ll be in contact with you in the next two days with news. We do our best to keep our clients’ profiles and dating statuses up to date, but please be aware that Aurora may currently be dating or prefer to remain single for now. If things there don’t proceed, then we’ll move onto another match for you.”

He took a breath. “I know it’s unlikely to work the first time.”

I had a good feeling about this match. “You never know, Bently. She’s out there, and I’m determined to find her for you.”

After an echoed thanks, the wraith departed.

“I think wraiths have eyes,” I told Soleil, interrupting her furious typing to hand her Bently’s folder.

She grabbed a chocolate muffin from a tower of them beside her monitor. “For real? I thought they just had sockets.”

“Same here.”

The bell rang.

I turned to our next client, already smiling. “Hi, you must be Loritta?”

The ghoul strode forward. “Yep. I’m here to find me a man. Regular dick.”

I’d never met a ghoul without attitude. “Then you’re in the right place. Follow me—”

“—hold on,” she boomed, pointing.

Following her line of sight, I stared at the towering man outside our bay windows.

The ghoul jerked a thumb. “I’ll take that one.”

Juno’s ambrosia, I couldn’t blame her. With dark hair and what I suspected was a very firm muscular build under his long black coat, the guy would stand out as sexiness incarnate amongst a crowd of the good-looking. Blinking, I pulled my thoughts from the potential curse-trigger zone and locked them away. “Be great if things worked like that, huh?”

She pursed her lips. “Ain’t that the truth.”

I guided the ghoul to my desk, looking back as the door opened again.

“He’s in here now,” the ghoul hissed as though I’d somehow missed the super-hot guy entering Yearning Hearts. “Seriously,” she said to me. “If that man’s game for some, then I’m ready.”

“He hasn’t got an appointment,” I murmured as the man approached Soleil. Shaking my curiosity off, I took a seat. “Let’s get to you, Loritta. What are you after from Yearning Hearts?”

She inspected her nails. “Look, I’ve given up on love. These days, my hopes are just for sex I don’t have to work too hard for, but I thought I’d give this dating gig one last-ditch effort.”

Uh-huh. Sure.

Loritta wanted love.

She wanted it so badly that dejection was turning to bitterness. “Thank you for trusting me with your last effort.”

“Well, they say you’re the person to talk to. Must have a bit more magic than the average cupid, huh?”

“What little magic I have gives me good instincts for the job,” I replied calmly.

The ghoul snorted. “You’re gonna need them. Let me tell you.”

“—Detective Devereaux Vincori—” the man said to Soleil ten feet away.

I froze as the ghoul started to unload her dating history on me.

He spoke again, “I’m here to investigate a report of abuse of power against two humans at the Gyes Pa edge of Juno Park.”

Crap.

Big centaur crap.

“I mean, going for my asshole on the first date? Who was he kidding?” Loritta thumped a fist on the table.

I nodded and arranged my facial features into empathy, missing whatever the detective said next.

It didn’t matter. The guy was here for me.

A shiver worked up my spine.

This was not good.

I had seriously, seriously fucked up.

“You must be mistaken,” Soleil was saying. “Cupids no longer have magic, as you’re well aware.”

“The sprite witness reported a pink or purple magic exploding from nearby trees, which hit both humans, who then fell madly in love,” the detective replied in bored tones.

“And sprites are well-known for their reliability,” she snapped.

He surely couldn’t argue that one. If a lie was more interesting than the truth, you could be sure a sprite would fib, and the little shits loved to gossip.

“Use of magic on humans is a serious crime. I’ll need to talk with—” He paused. “Cerys Concordia.”

“She’s busy with a client.”

I could almost hear the purr in the guy’s voice as he said, “I can wait.”

Ignoring the love seats, the detective left to stand outside. My insides hammered. There was an eye witness to what I’d done.

The sprite saw me use cupid magic.

This was a disaster. More than a disaster. This could mean an end to my relative safety for good.

Pulling myself together, I tuned into Loritta with difficulty.

She grumbled, “And I said to him, ‘Look, you’re not half bad, but the good half doesn’t make up for you flopping your dick out at dinner.’ I’d just met him! Give it a few hours, ya know?”

What the hell did I just miss? “Uh, you’ve had a lot of bad dating experiences. Trust me, I’ve had my share of them too.”

She eyed my long ash-blonde hair and chest. “You. Bad dating experiences. Sure.”

Did long hair and decent-sized boobs mean I only landed good dates? “Bad dates don’t discriminate. I can say with total sincerity that the majority of men aren’t like the ones you’ve encountered. Don’t lose hope. I meet them every day in this job, and if you’ll trust me with the task of finding your match, then I’d like to set you up with one of the good ones.”

She didn’t reply. Too wary of disappointment, perhaps.

“Let me at least explain our process.” I backpedaled. “You fill in the questionnaire now, then I go through our system and see if we already have another client you’d be well-matched to. If not, we keep you in our system and get in touch when a potential match comes along.”

“That could take forever. These cobwebs ain’t getting dusted, if you know what I mean.”

Unfortunately, I could guess.

I leaned forward. “Some clients have been on our system for a year or more, yes. But they’re still free to actively date while they wait, to find love themselves. If you decide to sign up with us though, then you’ve made the choice to go after genuine love. Because I’m not going to set you up with anyone who isn’t the real deal. And, if it’s the financial side of things you’re concerned about, then yes, there’s a subscription fee. But if we can’t find a match within eighteen months, then you’ll receive half back. No strings attached.”

The ghoul tapped her red nails on the leathery brown skin of her arm. “I’m probably stupid to keep trying, but why not. Could be a laugh, huh? Sign me up.”

She wanted it desperately, as did most people I encountered—whether they were honest about it or not.

I tried to drag out the process of entering her into our system in the hopes the detective would get an urgent call, but he seemed entirely comfortable watching foot traffic go by. My eyes roamed the broad expanse of his shoulders under the black coat. In general, the more physically capable descendants went into law enforcement—werewolves, vampires, mages, and guardians. This guy didn’t fit those profiles. Perhaps an earth guardian, but he wasn’t tall enough for that, really, even with his towering height.

“Don’t worry, love. I won’t hold my breath,” Loritta said as we both stood.

It may take me a week, month, or year, but I’d come through for her. “We’ll be in touch. I’ll pass you over to our operations manager, Soleil. She’ll discuss the subscription details with you.”

I faced my best friend, letting her see the horror I’d veiled until that moment.

Soleil swooped in. “Loritta, welcome! If you’d like to take a seat at my desk, I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

The detective’s back was to us.

“What happened?” she mouthed.

I widened my eyes at her. It was enough to convey what she needed to know—because assuming there weren’t excellent ears at work was always a bad idea.

“Fuck,” she mouthed, throwing the detective a look.

That was about the size of it.

Soleil grabbed a piece of paper from my desk and scribbled on it.

Did the sprite actually see you do it?

Don’t admit to anything.

She underlined the last sentence, and I took a breath, nodding.

The detective glanced over at me when I walked outside, and my breath was hard to come by for a different reason.

Up close, he sure was something.

Cool gray eyes set upon me, too assessing and too observant for comfort. The difference in our heights became more obvious the closer I drew to him, and from the small glimpses between the folds of his coat, I was able to confirm my earlier suspicions. There was something about a broody man that women liked, and the detective had that quality in droves. Midnight impressions and dusk mysteries were only reinforced by his single personal item, a brown leather bracelet on his left wrist.

“Miss Cerys Concordia?” he asked in the same bored tone I’d overheard inside. This guy didn’t want to be here. He had better things to do. Hopefully that worked in my favor.

I extended my hand. “Nice to meet you, Detective…?”

“Devereaux Vincori.” He gave my hand a platonic shake before extracting his notebook.

My heart raced. Keep it together, Cerys.

“How can I help you?” I asked. “My colleague said there were humans hurt.”

“Hurt, no.” He briefly met my gaze. “Magic was used on them, however.”

“They were found and examined?” I ramped up the concern in my voice.

Cool gray eyes bored into mine. They practically screamed “stop bullshitting me.” “They weren’t. The area is being monitored for their reappearance so we’re able to test them for any magical traces.”

Okay, so they had no proof magic was performed on humans. Yet. “Okay. I guess I’m interested in how you came to knock on my door. I walk home that way every day, but I haven’t encountered any humans on the walk in over a month.”

He didn’t believe me one bit, but this was a game where he didn’t need to. This game was just a matter of evidence. And so far, he had none, apparently.

“There was a witness.” He tilted his head, watching me closely.

“A sprite, right?”

His mouth thinned, drawing my attention to his full upper lip. Damn, he was nice to look at.

“Do you recall exactly what time you walked through the park last night, Miss Concordia?”

I pulled a face. “I stopped to speak to another colleague just before entering the park, so it would have been later than usual. Oh, but I’d left work early that day because my last appointment canceled.” I thought for a moment. “I’d say between four forty-five and five-thirty?”

His brow furrowed. “You can’t be more specific than that?”

Not for you, sweet cheeks. “Sorry. Time just isn’t something I pay attention to.”

That was actually pretty true unless I was working.

Detective Devereaux flipped his notebook shut and tucked that and the pen into his coat. “Humans were hit with magic and allegedly fell in love immediately after. There was a cupid walking by at the time. You expect me to believe it wasn’t you?”

I narrowed my gaze. “I don’t care what you believe, Detective. It is a well-known fact that there are no remaining cupids with that kind of magical ability. Do you think I’d be working for a pittance here if I had that kind of power?”

His lips curved. “Not if you were smart, Miss Concordia.”

I refused to look away. That seemed like something guilty people did. Or did staring make me seem guilty? Shoot. “I’m on the clock, so unless you have actual evidence, then I’d appreciate if you stopped wasting my day.”

A beat passed before the detective straightened, making me realize we’d leaned closer to one another. “You may return to work.”

I could?

Turning, I made the mistake of feeling relief.

He continued. “I’ll expect you at the station at your first convenience to present your magical testing papers and give a full statement of your whereabouts yesterday evening.”

I glanced back.

The detective assessed me with detached calm. “I suggest you put more specific thought into the timeframe of those whereabouts. The law enforcement department takes abuse of power very seriously.”

Did he though? Because I’d never heard someone sound so bored.

“I’ll be sure to come to the station as soon as I can,” I answered. Oops, too much sarcasm.

The detective closed the gap until we were shoulder to shoulder—or shoulder to elbow with the height difference. “Make sure you do, Miss Concordia.”

His gray eyes flashed a vivid blue, and a small noise escaped my parted lips.

Nox’s third boob, this guy was a berserker!

And trying to threaten me.

I narrowed my gaze. “Have a good day, Detective.”

Detective Devereaux Vincori tipped the brim of his imaginary hat and walked away.

5

“You guys leaned into each other. I was an eyewitness,” Soleil said as the air mage painted a vibrant orange onto her nails.

Loud chatter filled every inch of the salon, a normal occurrence on our Tuesday night manicure dates.

I was going for nude with white tips this week. “I know. Angry attraction energy.”

The air mage held her palms under Soleil’s, and a slight breeze swirled around their hands, drying the polish in seconds. Seriously, if I could steal a power from another descendant, that’s what I’d take.

“New guy on the scene?” the air mage asked.

I groaned. “I wish, Jedda. This guy was hot, no doubt.” I stopped, then corrected myself. “Really, really hot. But a total jerk. One of those guys who’s bored by everything and has a superior amusement complex.”

The air mage and Soleil exchanged a glance.

“No,” I insisted. “Really. Not for me.”

“You sound like you’d get naked for him in an instant, dear,” a kindly mother fairy said from my left.

I slumped on the stool. “Would I ever.” After a three-year dry spell, I probably didn’t have standards anymore—and likely more cobwebs than Loritta the ghoul.

“Jedda! Phone call,” the werewolf receptionist hollered from the front desk.

The air mage twisted the brush top back on the polish. “Back in a sec, Cerys.”

Soleil shot me a look when the air mage had departed. “You know, I’m pissed about the whole thing. You can’t be that careless.”

“It isn’t about being careless,” I replied after checking the mother fairy was in deep conversation with her nail artist about a baby boy she’d just delivered. “The human couple was the real deal. There was no option or chance to control my reaction.”

She blew out a breath. “I just worry. Losing you is the worst thing I can imagine. I’d move the universe to stop it happening. And of course I worry about the stability of our business when these things happen as well.”

“I do too,” I said softly. “I wish there was a way to give us more security.” Despite the definite upside to partnering with a cupid who possessed real magic, there was a downside. If I had to suddenly go into hiding, that would be us done. And we had a significant financial commitment to the property.

Soleil shrugged a shoulder. “I went into this with my eyes wide open. Plus, none of this shit is your fault. Other people are just coveting, cruel bastards. I was just saying. Because, well, Yearning Hearts is our baby.”

“And she’s growing every day.”

Her green eyes gleamed. “Sure is. Which will continue.”

“You’re scary when you’re ambitious.”

“Sexy scary?”

Was it possible for a siren not to be sexy? “Sexy everything.”

A nail artist down the other end of the salon gasped loudly. “You’re kidding.”

The salon was rendered silent. That type of gasp was nail salon code for “everyone listen in.” Total quiet reigned aside from the conversation of the harpy and gasping nail artist opposite her.

“Nope,” the harpy replied. “I saw it printed in the Nepos Notice, plain as day. They’d shoved it into the back section under the cryptic crossword, but I thought it should’ve been second-page content at least.”

“Grave digging isn’t so unusual,” the nail artist said in a dramatic hush. “In general, I’d say finders keepers—”

“You gotta hide your dead.” The harpy agreed.

“—but digging up heart elementals. That’s a new one.”

I stilled, feeling Soleil do the same.

The harpy grimaced. “What are they hoping to do with the bodies? Love isn’t in their bones; it’s in their blood. If you could make a love soup from their corpses, then everyone would’ve done it by now.”

The nail artist hummed. “Ain’t that the truth, sister.”

Soleil and I exchanged a loaded look.

My personal opinion was that grave digging of any kind was a nasty-ass thing to do, but in some descendant cultures, it was almost expected.

My mother had been a maiden, not a heart elemental, but if someone ever touched her grave, then I swear I’d develop siren abilities to tear the person’s throat out. As for my father’s grave. Well, though he’d been a heart elemental, he didn’t have one. Just a plaque. Shitty people drained him a long time ago and law enforcement never found the body.

I strained to hear more, but they’d moved on to discussions of the latest episode of Lyre’s Lies.

Damn. Someone ugly enough to dig up heart elementals was ugly enough to go for magic-less cupids as well.

I needed to put the word out.

Jedda plonked down in front of me. “You’re not going to believe it, Cerys. You know that favor you asked?”

My eyes widened. “Your friend is back.”

“She just returned from her quest.”

“She’s in Nepos,” I clarified, heart pounding.

Jedda nodded. “Sure is. She’ll probably need time to settle in again, but do you still want me to set up that meeting?”

My chest tightened, but I made an effort to keep my voice even. “Absolutely. I’d appreciate you doing that.”

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do after you helped me with my asshole ex.”

Muses didn’t handle breakups well, especially when they weren’t doing the breaking part.

“I’ll get in touch when she’s free.”

“Great,” I said, more breathless this time.

Jedda finished applying another coat on my nails and dried them in the same manner as she’d dried Soleil’s. “All done, ladies.”

“Your best job yet.” Soleil inspected her hands.

Jedda winked. “You say that every week. Next Tuesday?”

“And you ask us that every week,” my friend retorted. “Just book us in for a year or something.

Calling out goodbyes to the other occupants in Nails Before Males, we exited onto Vesta Vista, heading back to Nox Street.

Soleil linked her arm with mine after I’d heaved my pink tote into place. “What do you keep in that bag, friend?” she asked.

Not for the first time, I showed her the writing displayed on the side and read the slogan aloud, “I don’t know what’s in here either.”

“My guess is a full set of gym weights.”

I couldn’t say with certainty that she was wrong.

We moved out of the way for a frazzled charity with her infant triplets. At least she knew triplets were a certainty before conceiving. Not that knowing in advance probably helped her now.

Wandering to the corner, I stopped Soleil in front of a news cart.

“Hold on a sec.” I dug around in my bag for my purse. Was that hot sauce? What the weird? Pushing it out of the way, I located my purse underneath and paid the gremlin manning the cart.

I tucked the newspaper into my tote.

“Sending out word to the other cupids?” she murmured.

The grave digging was probably nothing but… “Just to be safe. Some people are idiots. And idiots will do anything.” Lowering my voice further, I said, “Did you hear Jedda? About her friend being back?”

“Something to do with the curse?”

I’d tried all manner of ways to unmake the curse, but I’d never managed to speak to a witch or wizard. Not for lack of trying. Both types were notorious for sticking to their covens and shunning outsiders when not on one of their quests to level up in power. “Her friend is a witch.”

“Sweet Minerva, for serious? That’s huge, Cerys.”

“For serious. I’m hoping…” Well, I was certain my friend could guess what those hopes were. By now, I should know better than to raise those hopes, but excitement bubbled in my chest anyway. I hadn’t touched a man romantically—had barely looked at a man romantically for longer than a few seconds—in three years. At this point, I’d try anything to help my curse-breaking efforts. This witch could have the answer. Or at least some guidance on what to do next.

She whistled. “You want company?”

Sometimes Soleil came along on my curse-breaking ventures, and sometimes I joined in on her personal venture, too—finding the three golden feathers she’d sold on the black market.

This time though… “She might be jumpy. You know how witches are.” Jedda’s friend was a total oddity amongst her type, but I should still proceed with caution.

“Let me know if you want me to rough her up,” my friend said, and in the same breath, “There’s a two-for-one sale at Galactica!”, and still in the same breath, “So what are we doing about this detective conundrum?”

We turned onto Nox Street, and I held up a finger. “Firstly, if I need muscle, you’ll hear from me. Secondly, Galactica date tomorrow. Thirdly…” I’d managed to ignore my law-sized problem for the entire afternoon.

“They don’t have anything on you,” she said.

I hoisted my tote again. “I can just ride it out and hope against hope that the detective doesn’t shout about the case to the world in the meantime.” That was the real danger. Love was the most powerful force in the world. And the desperate would always come knocking in pursuit of it.

Soleil winked at an eight-foot-something earth guardian. “When will you go to the station?”

I ran my fingers through the pink tassels hanging outside a tiny coffee shop. “I’m pretty busy these days. So busy. You know how it is. Hard to find time for anything, isn’t it?”

Soleil popped a quick kiss on my cheek. “That’s my girl.”

Detective Devereaux could kiss my perky butt.

6

Austin was here.

In the morning.

Which was about the most annoying time because I needed to zap my computer with magic before my first client and he was encroaching on Gossip O’clock. But there he was, sitting on the corner of Soleil’s desk having a grand ol’ laugh.

“You guys seem to be one of the biggest agencies in Nepos,” he was saying.

Soleil quirked a brow. “Damn straight we are.”

“Along with Pick Up.”

Her good mood evaporated.

After a bit of time to chew and swallow the unintended insult, she spat, “Yes. They would be our main competitor.”

I pressed my lips together against a smile. Soleil hated Pick Up. One, they were in her way. Two… they were in her way.

“That name is so tacky,” she said before tidying her already tidy paper pile. “Their clients are only there for a booty call. You know what’s easier to sell than love, Austin?”

He didn’t have a chance to answer.

“Sex. Yet clients who are after genuine love get hopeful from Pick Up’s advertising and then get matched with Pick Up’s shitty dating software and end up sitting across from some sleaze who’s only after a good time! You know what that does to a person? It slowly breaks their damn heart is what!”

By now Austin appeared to realize what he’d started.

I agreed with Soleil for the most part. A dating agency had a responsibility to protect the well-being of its clients. The heart was a fragile and beautiful thing, but not a tangible thing. If we wore our hearts on our sleeves, dating agencies like Pick Up would take a great deal more care with the hopefuls knocking on their doors.

“Austin,” I interrupted before Soleil could settle into her next point. “Could you please photocopy this for me?”

I held out the top paper from a pile on my desk. He blew out a breath and walked over to take it from me. I kept my smile at bay though it wanted to peep out in answer to his shock over Soleil’s rant.

He scanned the paper. “Get many ghouls in here?”

Checking the paper I’d passed him and seeing it was Loritta’s application, I shrugged. “From time to time. They want love just the same as everyone else.”

“Those I’ve met seem mostly interested in sex.”

His hair still had that wind-swept quality. Did he style it?

I turned away and pretended to consult my computer screen. “Until fifty or sixty, they’re mostly focused on sex, yes. We tend to see the ghouls out of their first youth, seventy and older, who have realized that sex feels a little empty without the other stuff.”

Austin studied Loritta’s application. “It takes them seventy years of sex to realize that?”

I didn’t answer, and the new guy took the hint, leaving to enter the printer room.

Finally.

I set my forefinger against the computer and let my magic flow.

“Hey, Cerys?”

Sucking in a harsh breath, I cut off my magic as Austin popped his head back in.

He blinked at my computer before looking at me. “You just want one copy?”

“Just one copy,” I said calmly, heart clamoring to escape my body.

This time, I waited for the tell-tale creak of the printer top opening. I released the rest of my magic into the computer, shoulders sagging as the pressure within dissipated.

The pink glow only lasted a few seconds before absorbing to do whatever it did inside the computer. Back in the mobile days of Yearning Hearts, I’d done it by complete accident and noticed that it changed things in there. My magic augmented the dating software in ways I didn’t understand, tweaking the algorithm to make our matchmaking calculations entirely accurate. I’d compared my numbers against the software without my magic. The percentages changed drastically with my power’s help. Sometimes, the percentages went up. Often, they went down. A few times I’d had a match with an 80 percent or higher success rate, which then reduced to near zero with my magic added to the calculation.

Zapping my computer was a massive part of why Yearning Hearts did so well.

Austin reentered and handed over the copy and original.

I watched him carefully, but he didn’t glance at my computer again.

Phew.

“Here you go,” Soleil grumbled, passing over a stack of files to Austin. “Do it exactly as I’ve instructed. Don’t add your own spin.”

“Never add your own spin,” I advised.

Austin threw me a grin but was solemn when he faced Soleil again. “You’re the boss. I got it.”

That realization was ideal for his lifespan. My friend liked things just so.

My online chat pinged as Austin left. I opened the chat window and read through the series of messages along the lines of… Thanks for the heads-up… Walk in pairs, everyone. One cupid had recommended stocking up on protective charms until the gravedigger was caught.

Not a bad idea.

No, we weren’t heart elementals by any stretch of the imagination, but if this grave digger didn’t find whatever they were looking for, then we could be next on their list. I could be next on their list. Austin was right on one point. Yearning Hearts was one of the top agencies in Nepos. And I was its cupid presence.

Soleil sniffed. “Okay, I’m ready to stop sulking about PU.” She stuffed a chocolate muffin in her mouth.

“You’re the bigger person,” I said soothingly. “Pick Up has no finesse, remember?”

Dusting off her hands, she swallowed her mouthful. “There’s something we need to talk about. You’re gonna hate this, but—”

“I’m not negotiating on our success percentage again.” I folded my arms.

“How did you—?”

“No.”

She rounded her desk. “Cerys, the grave digger thing has me worried. Maybe we should tone things down with how many couples we match. Throw in a few more failures.”

I could give Yearning Hearts a 100 percent success rate, but this business was also my cover, so we’d agreed to maintain an 84 percent success rate for safety purposes.

I hated that 16 percent of people could have found love but left our office dissatisfied. We tried to only do it to the applicants who were more of a Pick Up client than a Yearning Heart client, but still, purposefully matching people into a relationship that would fail was against everything I was. Against my very blood.

“Cerys.” She sighed.

“Soleil,” I replied woodenly.

Her green gaze searched my face. “I’m just worried.”

People looking from the outside-in might smile at how caring my friend was. They didn’t understand just how much though. To accept less success, she had to put aside everything that drove her to such dedication; everything that once drove her to exchange mansions and maids for broken pipes and bills at seventeen. “Maybe no one has dug up our ancestors before, but cupids are used to danger. I’m on top of this. I swear.”

She watched me in doubtful silence.

Grabbing the newspaper, I laid it out on a mostly free portion of my desk. “There’s something else you should see.”

The Hucses were front-page news. Again. Apparently one of the richest families in Nepos opening a new charity ranked higher than someone emptying graves.

Soleil snatched the paper up, feasting upon the printed words about her family. She scoffed at intervals. “They only opened another charity to evade tax.” She tossed the paper down. “They’re so full of it.”

Twelve families in Nepos were rich beyond reason. The Hucses were veritable celebrities of the magical community with their fancy cars, trendsetting fashions, and mountains of money. The origin and accumulation of a siren’s wealth were always slightly questionable—what with their ability to sing a person’s will away. But most descendants conveniently forgot this when it came to the Hucses. My friendship with Soleil showed me that the working class would forgive a celebrity of almost anything simply because they were celebrities.

Kind of gross.

“Thought you should know,” I said. When the Hucses did something new, inevitably, our clients would ask Soleil a bunch of questions for the next two days. They didn’t know she was once a Hucs herself, but her siren nature was unmissable.

She rubbed her temples. “Thanks. Good to be prepared.”

My friend could have used her family name to catapult Yearning Hearts into the stratosphere. She could have used her siren call to do the same. But even when we’d been scraping at our asses to pay rent while working nights at B Sharp, I’d never seen her do either.

Soleil jabbed a finger at me. “Don’t think I missed your distraction tactic. If the heat rises with the grave digger, then we will discuss a lower success rate.”

I grinned saucily and blew her a kiss. “Love you.”

The phone rang, and Soleil returned to her desk while I grimaced my way through the rest of my triple-shot instant coffee.

“For you,” she said, holding out the phone just as my first client entered.

I wrinkled my nose at her. It was work time.

“Jedda,” she added.

In that case. I caught the phone she tossed over. “Jedda, how are you?”

“Hungover,” she croaked. “Caught up with Yessa last night.”

Yessa was the witch friend? Keeping one eye on Soleil greeting our client, I cracked a grin. “A big catch-up by the sounds.”

“You know it. Hit a jazz bar down Mercury’s Bend.”

Having once worked at a jazz bar on Mercury’s Bend, that was all the description I needed. “Recovery day in order then?”

“Or two. The organs don’t put up with it so well these days. Listen, my friend will meet with you. She can do tomorrow evening. Say, six?”

I tended to remain behind at work on a Thursday night to organize my personal dates for Friday and Saturday, but I’d gladly forfeit that duty in favor of this meeting. “That works. Anywhere in particular?”

“How about Duke’s Dive? That’s our local haunt, and it may be best to go somewhere familiar.” She hesitated. “Yessa is a great friend of mine. We’ve been through some stuff, but I won’t pretend she’s super happy about meeting you. What you did for me went a long way in helping her to agree, but you know how witches are.”

My throat constricted. I could not let this opportunity slip from my grasp. “I do. Thanks for the heads-up though.”

“I’ve assured her you’re a good sort. Just wanted to warn you that she may not be totally welcoming. So six at Duke’s Dive, yeah?”

I chewed on my lip. Duke’s Dive was the well-known and intense competitor of B Sharp. The owners of both establishments used to date—one of those scorching-hot relationships that burned so hot it couldn’t possibly last. Now they hated each other with about the same scorching heat. That wouldn’t be a problem, except I’d worked at B Sharp five years ago. Which had automatically landed me on Duke’s enemy list at the time.

Just how long was his memory?

And if I met this witch somewhere else, would she be more likely to freak out?

I considered both options. “Duke’s Dive it is. Six. I’ll be there.”

“Cool. I’ll let Yessa know. We always sit at the same table. Back right corner.”

“I appreciate you doing this.”

“And I appreciated your help not so long ago,” she replied. “You’re a good sort, Cerys. I’m just happy I could offer you something in return.”

I hung up and set the phone on my desk, vaguely noting the bubbly conversation between Soleil and our client at the front door.

This witch could tell me how to loosen or unmake the curse. I could not screw this up.

It was time to get curse unmaking for real.

7

Rare was the day that I found it hard to focus on my work, and recently that rarity had become a regularity. Which just straight-up pissed me off.

Soleil had just finished her subscription spiel with the succubus I now ushered to the door.

“You’ve got everything you need?” the client asked me for the third time.

I did my best not to appear slightly frantic. I usually finished by 5:00 p.m., and this stressed succubus had pushed us out to 5:30 p.m. Of course this would happen today of all days.

I couldn’t be late to meet Yessa the witch.

My smile felt strained, but hopefully that wasn’t translating to the client. “Absolutely everything.”

“It’s just… with my appetite.”

Most people assumed incubi and succubi had it easy on the dating front. And they did unless the sex demon was after a deeper connection, which was about 20 percent of them. If one of these types were after love, then they only had two options. They could either find someone who had an enormous sex drive—one large enough to satisfy the sex demon’s appetite long term. Or they had to find someone who was okay with their significant other’s need to find and feed off sexual energy in others. Both were tall orders. “You’re not the first of your type that we’ve had in Yearning Hearts and successfully matched. Give us time and we’ll do the rest.”

It took two more reassurances, but the succubus finally left.

“Mars alive, I thought she’d never leave,” I exploded, locking our front door for fear she’d return.

Soleil was at my desk, and when I half ran to get there, she’d already arranged my change of clothes, shoes, and tote in a row.

“Lifesaver.” I shrugged out of my cardigan and replaced it with a black blazer ornamented with gold buttons. I had a white tank and high-waisted beige silk shorts on. Kicking off my white casual sneakers, I slipped into my symbolic heels. I’d worn them on my last free date—free dates were the dates I went on before the witch cursed me. The black point toes were six inches and the ankle straps were made of pearls. I’d purchased them when Soleil and I started to bring in our first serious coin.

When this curse finally wore off, I’d be wearing these damn shoes. And that meant wearing them to meetings like this one with Yessa.

Like I said. Symbolic.

Freeing my ash-blonde hair from my scrunchie, I ruffled it and arranged it around my shoulders. Then, diving into my bag, I dug around in the bottom and managed to find one matching pair of earrings out of the seven or eight earrings I extracted. Gold to match the blazer buttons. Perfect.

Heaving my tote up, I lay a quick kiss on Soleil’s cheeks before booking it to unlock the door.

“You got this,” my friend called after me.

I sincerely hoped so.

Duke’s Dive was across town. I’d break into a sweat getting there on time, but I could make it. All the nights I’d run there in heels for my shifts at B Sharp were about to pay dividends.

Shooting off Nox Street and down Vesta Vista, I dodged a group of teen boggarts and, taking a not-so-well-known shortcut around the back of Minerva Ave, I made it to Mercury’s Bend in record time.

Still got it.

Panting, I stood with my back to the crimson doors of B Sharp. Directly opposite were the black gates of Duke’s Dive.

I’d wanted to get here early to compose my thoughts, even though I spent all last night tossing and turning with ideas of how to approach the conversation with Yessa. But maybe no amount of time could ready me for this.

I wanted it to go well so badly that crying on the spot was a real possibility.

Closing my eyes, I took a breath before hoisting my tote up again and dodging commuting cyclists to cross the cobbled street.

My chest loosened when I saw the bouncer was a new face. The water elemental took me in without any animosity and opened the cordon for me to slip through.

Phew.

I straightened my shoulders and entered the jazz bar.

Jedda had directed me to the back right corner table, but she needn’t have bothered. Witches didn’t try to fit in. Just the opposite in fact. And they did it so people knew not to bother them.

The witch was already aware of me and made no attempt to hide it. A person may make the mistake of believing witches and wizards to be timid wee things with the way they stuck to their covens. Nope. They just genuinely didn’t like other types. They only wanted to spend time with each other, and out of all the types, they tended to carry the largest superiority complex. Woe to anyone who was a vampire or centaur. Witches and wizards were generation two descendants of Diana’s power. Further dilution of that line resulted in a generation three vampire or centaur. And that was considered a shameful existence by most witches and wizards.

In summary, witches and wizards tended to be assholes.

“Hey, are you Yessa?” I asked, trying to tame my nervous brightness.

She lowered her glass, wiping away what looked and smelled like smokey whiskey. “Who’s asking?”

“A friend of Jedda’s.” I didn’t bother extending my hand. “I’m Cerys.”

The witch jerked her head in what I assumed was both her greeting and an invitation to sit down.

Her eyes widened when I dropped my tote on the floor.

“Never know what you may need,” I explained.

She scowled.

Okay then. “Have you known Jedda long?”

“What do you want?” Her gaze skimmed over my outfit, then landed on my tote again.

“Right. Jedda said you’re back from your quest, and I’m sure this isn’t high on your list of things to do.” I struggled for a second, then decided to just out with it. “Three years ago, a witch cursed me. I’ve been trying to unmake the curse ever since.”

The witch blinked.

“Well, loosen it. I’ve bought healing draughts and commercial counter charms—”

Yessa snorted.

“—Yeah, I figured those wouldn’t work. I was also blessed by a sea nymph last year to no effect. Following the advice of an oracle, I doused myself in nectar of the gods during the full moon of all four solstices in a leap year. I did that during the second year—”

“Which oracle?” the witch asked.

“The one on Vesta Vista.”

She snorted again.

Cool. “There are countless other things I’ve tried.” I cut off and shrugged a shoulder. “This curse is seriously affecting my life. I want to know if there’s anything else I can do.”

Yessa leaned back, eyeing me. “You helped Jedda get rid of that jackass, Antonio.”

“He didn’t much like the thought of his picture being sent out to every female client on our database in warning about his douchebag ways.”

It’s not that the witch smiled. It was that her face softened.

Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

She pursed her lips. “What’s the nature of your curse?”

Mars alive, was she going to help? I crossed my fingers under the table. “I’m cursed to never know romantic intimacy with a man. Prolonged thoughts of attraction and lust can still trigger it, though I couldn’t feel attracted to another person at all three years ago without disaster striking. Don’t get me started on actual touch. I haven’t had sex in three years.”

The witch’s brow shot up.

Maybe she didn’t need to know that last part. “Experiencing love is a cornerstone of someone’s life. I…” I met her black gaze. “I’m incomplete without it.”

That was a gross understatement.

“A cupid unable to find love herself does possess a certain irony,” she mused, then smiled. “The perfect curse, really.”

Uh-huh. My situation was freakin’ hilarious.

The witch hummed. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“Witches don’t just curse people. What did you do?”

Erm. “A misunderstanding. She believed that I was moving in on her man. He’d told me about recently ending a relationship, but she clearly believed otherwise or was plain jealous. When she discovered us on a date, she cursed me.”

“What about the guy?” Yessa asked.

It was my turn to scowl. “He ran away.” Jackass.

She took another sip of whiskey. “Who was the witch?”

“I don’t know her name. She had a unique scar on her cheek though. It was a—”

“Vera Calzane cursed you,” she spluttered.

I straightened. “You know her?”

“Who doesn’t? She’s amongst the most powerful of our kind.” The witch scanned the bar behind me. Every night was Saturday night on Mercury’s Bend, so the place was filling up.

“A drink, ma’am?”

I jerked at the sudden presence of a middle-aged woman beside me. “Oh, uh, Espresso martini, please.”

The waitress’s face was familiar. And that was bad.

Half turning, she paused and glanced back. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I come in from time to time.”

It seemed to do the trick. The waitress left.

Yessa shook her head. “Look, going against Calzane is a bad idea for me.”

“Please—”

“Don’t beg,” she said coldly.

I’d get down on both knees if she was able to unmake the curse. “An everyday descendant would struggle with the inability to find love and intimate companionship, Yessa. But I’m a creature of love. Love is who I am. To have that torn from me is like existing without legs, like taking half breaths all day, every day. I’m not asking you to unmake the curse if doing so will bring trouble to your hearth. I just ne—” I took a steadying breath. “I need some hope. Just so I can keep my head above water a while longer.” For another three hundred dates or more.

Yessa was silent for several agonizing seconds.

“Anything,” I stressed.

She rolled her eyes. “When we engage in curse making, a witch or wizard’s emotion is a cornerstone of the magic done. To unmake a curse, a person must have the power to loosen the curse first to assess the feeling that formed it—usually rage and hate—and then be able to put in the equal and opposite emotion along with an equal amount of power.”

I stared.

She sighed. “There are few witches and wizards who could wield the power to even loosen a Calzane curse. I am not one of them. Those who could loosen it to then assess the feeling within, may not have embarked and succeeded on their emotional diversity quest yet. If not, they won’t be able to summon the pure joy needed to counter pure hate or heartbreak. Those who are capable of both likely won’t help you. Coven politics are intricate and alliances are hard-won. They will not risk going against Vera for a mere cupid.”

Superiority complex. What did I say?

I’d known unmaking the curse likely wouldn’t be on the table, but part of me had wished for it anyway. I swallowed my disappointment. “What about other ways to loosen it? I was told by the oracle this was possible without a witch’s magic.”

An espresso martini was deposited in front of me.

I thanked the woman, making sure to avoid her searching gaze.

“Took me a bit,” she cut in anyway, “but I put my finger on it. You look an awful lot like that waitress who used to work across the road at B Sharp.”

I shot her a quick glance. “Nope. Not me.”

With a suspicious glower, the waitress retreated again. Shoot, I was on borrowed time.

Yessa glanced after the waitress. “Problem?”

“Don’t worry about it.” I waved a hand.

She leaned back again. “Yes, you can try to loosen the curse over time by exposing yourself, very carefully, to whatever it is you’re cursed not to do. In your case, you could try to flirt or touch—”

“I’ve been doing that for three years,” I said.

Her eyes rounded. “How much has it loosened?”

“Uh, I couldn’t even look at a hot guy. Now I can get one into my apartment and close to the bed, but not touching it.”

Her jaw dropped. “At that rate, it will hold for another decade or more.” Yessa seemed more impressed than anything else. “She must have been truly pissed off,” the witch said in awe.

Yep. My stomach churned. “I guess she loved him deeply. Is there anything else I can do?” I peered to the bar where the waitress was now in fervent discussion with none other but Duke, the owner of Duke’s Dive.

Shoot.

“Without help from other descendants, that’s it.”

That was beyond shit news. And I couldn’t even take a second to absorb the blow because Duke was headed this way. “Other descendants? Which ones? What can they do for me?”

She raised a brow. “If you can find a genie, make a wish.”

A genie. Was she for real? They were damn-near impossible to locate. I’d never met one. And I’d never be able to afford a wish if I did find one.

“What else?” I blurted.

She shrugged. “If you can find a demon to take you to the flip side, then the curse won’t survive the journey.”

I stared at her. A genie. Or a demon powerful enough to access the underworld. Was she fucking kidding me?

Yessa seemed to realize the worth of her advice and appeared almost sheepish. The witch version of sheepish at least.

A cold voice rolled over me. “Cerys Concordia, you’ve stumbled into the wrong bar.”

Duke, shapeshifter by type, tended to wear the form of a tall, thin male with a neon-orange pompadour who’d look in place at an indie rock concert. A flower that I knew to be a hellebore and a symbol of Minerva’s power—B used to hate on it all the time after they broke up—graced the side of his jaw. Shapeshifters always had a tell, something like Duke’s hellebore, that was visible no matter their form.

He took up a power stance at my right shoulder.

I tipped my head back. “Oh, hey, Duke. Just grabbing a drink with a friend.”

“She’s not my friend.” Yessa was quick to correct me.

My look of condemnation bounced straight off her. “Acquaintance then.”

“Barely.”

I didn’t like the word bitch, but sometimes it was hard not to use it. “Look,” I said to Duke. “I’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“Honey,” he said. “You’ll be outta here right now with my full knowledge. My dive don’t cater to the likes of B Sharp scum.”

There had to be something else the witch could tell me. “I worked there five years ago. Your beef with B has nothing to do with me.”

The noise in the bar quietened, and I was sorely reminded of Austin’s ignorant mention of Pick Up to Soleil.

Duke dragged in a long breath. “Nothing to do with you?”

Dammit.

“This conversation is done.” Yessa stood.

“Wait,” I blurted. “We can go somewhere else.”

She hardly gave me a backward look. “This is my local. I’m not putting that at risk. If Duke has a problem with you, then I have a problem with you.”

What about Jedda? The words halted on the tip of my tongue. Which was a good thing. I couldn’t drag the nail artist into this. She’d warned me about Yessa loud and clear. “Thank you for seeing me,” I shouted after her before huge hands clamped down on my shoulders. “Hey! I’m not leaving without my handbag.”

The water elemental bouncer tried to lift it and swore under his breath, abandoning the effort. “Yeah, you are.”

He didn’t relent in his grip, carrying me bodily back to the entrance.

I kicked him in the shin. “My handbag!”

“It’s my handbag now, hon.” Duke’s laughter followed me out.

The water elemental set me down on the pavement outside, and I whirled on him. “My handbag. Right now. I’m not leaving until it’s in my hands.”

Maybe I didn’t know what was in there, but I wanted to find out one day. It was like a time capsule at this point.

The water elemental started laughing with Duke but abruptly stopped as a shadow fell over me.

“Miss Concordia. Is there a problem?” The voice was a romantic summer night utterly destroyed by the rampant boredom covering it.

A quick glance upwards over my shoulder confirmed that none other than Detective Devereaux towered there, scowling down at me.

“Dev, darling, please tell me you’re not friends with this riff-raff,” Duke said over my head after joining us at the gate.

I’d raff his riff if he wasn’t careful.

With every muscle in my back taut in warning instinct with the detective behind me, I nevertheless opened my mouth to demand my handbag back.

He got in first. “Friends. No. Even so, please give the woman her things back.”

I spun, finger raised. “I don’t need your help.”

The detective’s dark brows rose just slightly. “Miss Concordia, do me a favor and put your finger down. It’s making me shake in my work boots.”

I glared. You’re a jerk.

His lips curved.

“Here.” The breath was knocked out of me as Duke swung my tote into my stomach.

Tears squeezed from the corners of my eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

“Your fault for keeping your grandmother’s kitchen sink in there, B Sharp scum.” Duke looked over my head again. “You still coaching out at Durita?”

Was the berserker from Durita? That was about as rough a part of Nepos as it got. The more shunned types tended to congregate there—centaurs, werewolves, imps, and the like. And it was nothing against any of those types personally, but that area did have a higher crime and violence rate. I wouldn’t ever dare to walk there, let alone coach whatever it was he coached.

Actually, their catch-up was my cue to slip away before the berserker dragged me to the station. Clearing my throat, I eased to the—

A large hand descended on my shoulder, tightening just enough to hint at the strength left unrevealed. Not having met a berserker, I could only recall fragments of their abilities, but strength and speed surely had to be qualities held by the gods’ “perfect soldiers.” Then there was the part that made everyone scared of berserkers—what they turned into.

Their other half, so to speak.

I tried to shrug off the detective’s grip as Duke and he continued chin-wagging.

Duke said his goodbye a while later and fluttered a hand in my face. “Come back again, B Flat, and you’ll regret it.”

“B Flat instead of B Sharp,” I replied. “I see what you did there. Bye, Puke.”

His face turned an ugly shade of purple, and then the good detective was dragging me away.

“That’s what B calls him,” I said conversationally.

“You know,” his gray eyes scanned the street, “Duke is more powerful than he appears. It’s unwise to start something with him.”

He’d started it with me. I’d just waitressed at his ex’s bar. “Uh-huh. Hey, listen, thanks for your help back there. I had it under control, but whatever. Always nice to have someone interfere in your personal business. Anyway, I’m sure you have heaps of crime-solving to do, so I’ll leave you to it.”

The detective watched in silence until my rambling trailed off. “Not at all. I’m happy to run into you, Miss Concordia. I’ve been expecting you at the station for the last three days.”

I widened my eyes. “Three days? Already? By Vulcan, time flies, doesn’t it? I really am so busy these days, and it’s hard to fit in any extras without my business and income being impacted. Rest assured, I’ll be there the first chance I get.”

The gleam in his eyes grew in tandem with the bullshit leaving my mouth.

“You seem free now. Let’s take a trip downtown.”

8

Crap. A trip to the station was the last thing I wanted to do.

I grimaced up at the berserker. “Shucks, but I don’t have the testing papers you asked for.”

Detective Devereaux leaned closer, his voice silken. “Drop them in another time. We can get your statement out of the way.”

Time to lie out my ass. “I haven’t fed my cat. Will this take long? She has diabetes. Leaving her too long could kill her.”

“Not long at all.”

“Okay, because she’s really diabetic.”

The detective stopped outside another bar, still gripping my shoulder. I squinted at the flashing neon sign for Trilling Playhouse. This joint didn’t carry the crowded clout of B Sharp and Duke’s Dive, but I’d always liked it. The bar had more of a dusty, smoky-aired scene and the kind of smooth jazz that would soothe a hurting soul at 1:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning. I’d spent many a night here during the second year of my curse. “Why are we stopping?”

“Errand,” the detective grunted. “Won’t take long.”

“Okay. Just don’t forget my cat.”

“Your diabetic cat. How could I?”

That seemed like sarcasm. “So this won’t take long?”

The muscle in his jaw started ticking and his gaze flashed blue, the color gone in the next blink. “Longer by the second, Miss Concordia. I would have already finished here if not for a cupid-sized pain in my ass.”

I could guess that was me. “My apologies. Proceed.” Standing aside, I gestured him forward.

He sighed and guided me into the narrow bar ahead of him.

“What can I get for you?” a man of undiscernible type asked from behind the bar.

“Nothing,” the detective replied. “I’m here to meet a brownie. Female.”

He jerked a thumb. “At the back.”

“This sounds like private law enforcer business. I can just wait here.” I gestured to the empty seats by the bar.

Detective Devereaux’s jaw ticked faster. “Just keep quiet. This is important.”

More than happy to be super annoying when the occasion demanded it, I mimed zipping my lips. “You can count on me, Detective Dev.”

He sighed again.

A brownie occupied a booth at the far and most shadowed end of Trilling. She stared at the table, wringing her hands in obvious agitation.

“Mantle,” the detective said.

She jumped and jerked her head up. “Detective.” Her focus swung to me. “Who’s this?”

I opened my mouth.

“No one,” he replied.

She frowned. “I didn’t agree to have an interview with no one. I agreed to have it with you.”

Was this my lucky day?

The ticking jaw muscle was back. He lowered his head to mine, pointing over my shoulder. “See that table? Wait there. Don’t move.”

“My cat—”

“Can wait.” He gritted his teeth.

Concealing a smirk, I trotted to the table like a good citizen. A jazz band was setting up and the bar was steadily filling. In another ten minutes, I might be able to slip away. The detective really did seem busy with important law stuff. If I stayed off his radar, then my case might be kicked down the road indefinitely.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” the detective murmured to the brownie.

Did he know that his low voice carried?

The brownie was harder to hear from my table. “You understand that this could end me. I’m breaking the most fundamental code of my kind.”

Sounded like juicy stuff.

The microphone squealed, and I missed the rest of her reply.

“You could help end a lot of suffering, Mantel.”

A group of jazz pixies flew past my table straight for the detective’s booth.

“Where you at, big man, little lady?” one squeaked.

I glanced back as the detective muttered, “What?”

“You at our table, that’s where you at,” the male jazz pixie said emphatically. The members of his troop vocalized their agreement.

Devereaux stilled. “I think you’ll find that this table is taken by a member of the l—”

Mantel cleared her throat, shaking her head several times in quick succession, and the detective cut off. Didn’t blame the brownie. If she planned to sell someone out to the detective right now, then jazz pixies weren’t the ones to tell. They tended toward friendships with sprites.

“We’ll move,” Mantel said nervously.

Devereaux stared down the pixies. “Move on. There are plenty of other places to sit.”

Oh, brother. It was like he’d never encountered jazz pixies in a jazz bar before. Telling them to move elsewhere was like someone tossing the detective out of the station. This was their turf.

The troop of jazz pixies convened.

“He’s strip, flip, tripping,” a female pixie said in her high-pitched voice. She was roughly a third of the size of my imaginary diabetic cat. “Let’s razzle-dazzle him outta our bayou.”

“Shoobee doo-wop,” the others agreed in jazz.

Yikes. This was about to go south for the detective and Mantel, and for the pixies once they realized what he actually was.

I pursed my lips.

The problem with slipping off while the detective was distracted was that he knew where I worked—probably where I lived too. But if he owed me one, maybe he’d take things easier on me with the whole abuse of power thing?

I made it to his booth just as the pixies formed a conga line—a sure sign that shit was about to hit the fan.

“Where you at?” I asked them in jazz.

“Big man on the wrong side of the rat-a-tat-tracks.” Another male pixie shook his tiny fist in the air.

“What are you doing, Miss Concordia?” the detective butted in.

I hissed from the corner of my mouth, “Saving your ass.” To the pixies, I said, “Big man don’t know the keys. He’s flowing major to minor. Freestyle. All that.”

The male seemed mollified, but the female from before flew up before me.

“Slow Sundays, bright eyes,” she squeaked.

“Shoobee doo-wop,” I agreed. “Throw a dollar in my hat, lady wings, let me play a while, see if I can’t tune his sax.”

The pixies folded their arms, and the female eventually nodded.

I turned to the detective. “Yeah, you gotta move, man.”

“That’s what I told him,” Mantel burst out.

“Why?” he asked. Since the detective turned up at Yearning Hearts, I detected a genuine sliver of interest for the first time.

I jerked my head in the direction of the pixies. “For the same reason you wouldn’t expect a gnome to leave its garden.”

He made a sound of faint surprise.

I gestured around us. “Jazz bar. Jazz pixies.”

The detective’s face smoothed. “I see. We’ll grab another table.”

“No,” the brownie whispered. “Too many people have seen us together. I’m out.”

“We’ll find somewhere private,” the detective said.

“Nope. I’m out.”

Another chance to get in the detective’s good books.

I glanced at the crowd. “No one’s paying any attention to you. They’re watching the band set up.”

She wrung her hands. “You think?”

“For sure. This is the kind of bar people come to not notice anything but the music.”

“That’s what a friend said.” The brownie breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s why I picked it.”

I bent my head closer to hers. “There’s a back door past the bathroom that says Chaos Exit above it, but the alarm is broken. Why don’t you both slip out there and have your conversation in the back alley? It’ll be empty this time of night.”

The detective fixed on me as I straightened. I maintained my half-helpful, half-innocent expression.

His gaze narrowed.

I smiled encouragingly.

His gaze narrowed further.

“That sounds okay to me.” Mantel darted a nervous look around. “You got a no-gossip charm, Detective?”

Devereaux didn’t budge his focus from me. “I do.”

I tried not to sweat under his perusal. “There you go. All sorted. That is if the good detective agrees?”

The good detective’s lips pressed together, but after a quick look at Mantel, he appeared to curse under his breath. He eyed me. “You’ll wait here.”

Deigning not to answer what could be interpreted as a question, I pivoted back to the waiting jazz pixies. “Big boy is bendin’ for playing his flute backward. He’s catching a ride with little lady to the shallow end of Dixieland.”

The female uncrossed her arms and dipped her head. “Sound the trumpet, bright eyes. Ain’t no stage for the dizzy at Trilling. Woo wah?”

I gave the troop a thumbs-up. “Chh-cha chh-cha.”

Crisis averted.

The detective and Mantel vacated the booth, and I pointed out the door to the left of the stage with the bathroom sign above it. Playing it cool, I returned to my table, feeling the detective’s boring gaze upon me with every step.

I took a spare seat, settling in to watch the jazz band. The only thing about Trilling? The music could be hit or miss. But if jazz pixies were here, that was a good sign.

With a loud whoop, a green-skinned banshee began to pluck at her double bass. I clapped along with everyone else. Waiting for her to complete the intro, I then cast a faux-bored look toward the bathroom.

And grinned.

He’d left me to it!

Sucker.

9

Friday.

Usually that meant a date, but I hadn’t organized any due to my meeting with Yessa last night.

A Friday to myself was a truly exciting prospect.

Grabbing the black eyeliner from my vanity, I carefully drew over the very real black heart just beneath my collarbone, then slipped into a camisole and high-waisted flowing skirt.

The landline beside the archway of my small kitchen emitted a shrill ring, and the hellhound a couple of floors above started to howl.

“This is Cerys,” I answered.

“Why are you introducing yourself? I’m the only person with your number,” Soleil’s husky voice danced down the line.

I pulled a face. “The landlord called me once.”

“Whoa, slow down, social butterfly. How did it go with Yessa the witch?”

Disappointment reared its ugly head again. “Don’t remind me.”

“She wouldn’t tell you anything?”

“She didn’t want to, but she talked in the end. It’s just not great news. She was amazed at the strength of the curse. Said it could go on another decade or more based on how little it’s loosened in three years.”

Soleil went quiet.

“Yeah. She recommended to keep doing what I’m doing and said I could visit a genie for a wish or hitch a ride to the underworld with a demon.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“My exact reaction. Do demons that strong even exist anymore? And even so, I don’t have that kind of money. I don’t even think my soul would go for that much.” I thumped my forehead against the wall next to the phone.

“That can’t be all,” my friend burst out. “There has to be something else. Someone.”

“The witch who cursed me is the real deal. High up. Other witches and wizards who would stand a chance at breaking the curse won’t because of coven politics. I pissed off the wrong person, Sol.”

“We’re going to figure this out.”

I swallowed a few times. “Yessa seemed certain those were the only options.”

Soleil replied with a few choice comments about the witch. “You’re not giving up. We have a plan, so let’s stick to it. You’ll keep dating to loosen the curse, and we’ll follow any other trails that come up between times. It’s going to work, Cerys.”

After a decade. “I’ll keep going.”

I couldn’t not. I didn’t lie to Yessa last night. Love was in my blood, and the curse cut me off from a big part of who I was. I felt less each day.

“Glad to hear it,” Soleil said. “Because I took the liberty of setting up your dates for this week.”

I groaned. “I was hoping to have the night off.”

“You haven’t got time to waste, my friend. Your true love could be just around the corner.”

I sincerely hoped not. “Please tell me you didn’t try to match me with someone for real.” My information was entered into our system, and I always made a point of selecting the matches with the lowest success rate. I didn’t want to date an actual match while cursed—how crap would that be?

“Not really,” she hedged.

Which was a yes. I thumped my forehead on the wall again. “Who are they?”

“Tonight, there will be a water elemental in your bed. Name’s Chase and he’s looking for someone who feels at home in nature and enjoys spa baths.”

I didn’t mind that stuff. If by “in nature,” he meant a stroll through Juno Park. And if his spa bath involved consumption of wine. “Chase the water elemental. Got it. Who’s Saturday?”

“You’ll like this one.”

Doubtful.

“Brent the earth guardian,” she said with glee.

My jaw dropped. “An earth guardian! Are you serious?” Earth guardians were huge on all counts. “I haven’t had sex in three years and you ease me back in with the biggest type around?”

“I thought he may have better luck dealing with the curse fallout.”

I pushed off the wall, twirling the phone line around my finger. “That’s actually a point.” Guardians healed faster than the average type and were harder to hurt. “Good idea.”

“I’m more than a pretty face and excellent body.”

My smile came easier this time. Maybe tonight would be the night I finally got a man to touch my bedsheets. My breaths came quicker at the thought.

That’s how sad my life was now. The fantasy of a man touching my blanket got me hot and bothered. “All right, I’m leaving now. See you soon.”

Hanging up, I exchanged my flowing skirt for a white mini and hooked a white denim jacket on my finger. Chucking the jacket next to my tote by the door, I surveyed the room. Bubble-wrapped bedposts. Check. Boxes against the far wall. Check.

Moving fast, I hurried around and unplugged the appliances, then pushed my bed over so it wasn’t under the chandelier. This week, I’d open the condom in the kitchen.

Shoving the contents on my desk into the top drawer, I placed the usual card with the healer elemental’s number on top.

Ornaments away. Check.

That was everything. Well, so far. The curse would prove me wrong tonight, no doubt.

Grabbing my tote and jacket, I locked my apartment, heading to the apartment lobby.

“Ceryssss,” my rich poltergeist neighbor hissed, floating the other way. He tended to sleep during the day.

“Hey, Rodney. How’re things?”

“Bright. Burning.”

I smiled. “Sleep tight.”

He gnashed his teeth and floated onward through the door to the stairs. Just what Rodney did for a living, I hadn’t figured out, but penthouse apartments weren’t cheap nor easy to come by. One day, I’d get it out of him.

Exiting onto Ceres Close, I walked in the direction of Juno Park. The houses became progressively bigger as I went until large mansions spanned either side of the cobbled lane. I trailed my fingers over the wrought-iron gate of a mansion two estates from the park. As always, my chest squeezed to the point of pain.

After Dad was drained when I was ten, my mother hadn’t lasted much longer—the downside of being a maiden. My paternal grandparents were already gone at that stage, but my maternal grandparents took me in. I’d lived in this mansion after. Grandma died a peaceful death when I was seventeen years old, and Grandpa followed. That was when I’d headed out to work at B Sharp to pay the bills. It just didn’t cover them. Selling my grandparents’ mansion was the single hardest choice I’d ever made, but they’d always told me people were worth more than things. So when I found out that the mansion sale would provide the perfect amount to put up my half of the deposit for the Yearning Hearts headquarters, it seemed like fate.

That didn’t stop the memories surfacing every day when I walked to and from work. I didn’t want the memories to stop. I’d moved back to this street to preserve them. Both good and bad. Because all of my memories were important. They were all that remained of my family.

Nearly.

Peering around for company first, I climbed atop the knee-level rock wall that formed the base of the wrought-iron fence. Pushing aside the low-hanging branches of a maple, I squinted through the gap to where a magnificent oak tree grew beside the white mansion.

The ground beneath the oak was undisturbed.

Good.

Not that the grave-digger was after maidens like my mother and grandma, but despite my reassurances to Soleil, the gruesome happenings did have me spooked.

“Love you,” I whispered my mother’s way, blinking against the memories of ten-year-old me laying a raceme of cassia atop her coffin during the midnight burial. The harpy at Nails Before Males hadn’t been wrong. In Nepos, it wasn’t wise to advertise burial sites. Not that maidens were high on anyone’s exhumation list. The extent of their Venus power was to be captured by their true love, to whom they presented a single pearl-white feather to seal the deal. Otherwise, maidens delivered grace and peace to those lives they touched, so in general, everyone loved them.

The trip through Juno Park was uneventful and relaxing as ever, but as I exited onto Nox Street on the other side, I felt the usual excitement coursing through my veins. The day was stacked with back-to-back clients as per usual. My fingers itched to release the pink power built up from yesterday morning.

Soleil was already at work when I arrived.

“Hey.” I dropped my tote by my desk.

“Hey,” she murmured, already furiously typing. “There was a note addressed to you stuck to the door.”

There was?

I picked up the envelope she’d placed on my precarious stack of completed questionaries. Prying open the seal, I unfolded the message inside.

Miss Concordia,

The station. By Sunday.

Det. Devereaux Vincori

P.S. I hope your cat lived.

I groaned loudly. “Dammit. He’s a stubborn son of a gun.”

“Who?”

“Detective.”

“Detective Hotty?”

“If that’s what you choose to call him.”

Soleil faced me with a wide grin. “Oh. I do. I really do. But I can see why it’s best for you to pretend otherwise.”

I waved the piece of paper. “Summons to attend the station by Sunday. He, uh, stumbled upon me last night.”

“You failed to mention that during our phone call this morning.”

Between a witch and cursed dates, it hadn’t come up. I screwed up the paper and tossed it in my desk drawer, then crossed to the kitchenette. Heaping three tablespoons of instant-ass coffee into a mug, I replayed last night for her.

Soleil was chewing on a chocolate muffin by the end, face screwed up in thought. “What do you think the brownie was going to tell him?”

Pouring hot water into my mug, I lifted a shoulder. “She said it would break her kind’s most fundamental law.”

The muffin fell from Soleil’s grip.

I coughed on my first sip of coffee. “What?”

“The most fundamental law of brownies is that they never betray their family,” she said. “Their assigned family. That’s enough to get you cast out of the burrow for good.”

Brownies were possibly the most peaceful of all types. They kept house for those families lucky enough to have one—usually the rich and prominent. “Oh right. Guess she was ratting them out then. That makes sense. She was super nervous.”

“Her name was Mantel?”

I nodded. “Assuming that’s her real name.”

“Sounds real. They always name their kids by random parts of the house. The Hucses’ family brownies are Hinge and Stairwell.”

Grandmother had a mansion, but her brownie had passed decades before my birth. “Do you know who Mantel is assigned to?” Sue me, the detective’s general demeanor made me want to shove my nose into his business.

“Nah, the rich don’t really talk about their brownies,” she said. “Could be assigned to anyone.”

Not the Hucses though. I downed the rest of my coffee. Neptune’s knee bone, that shit was horrible. But so so necessary.

“Looks like the game is up with the detective. Are you ready for his questions?”

I adopted a sultry voice. “You left a note on the door, Detective? How funny. There wasn’t anything there when I arrived in the morning. Must’ve blown away.”

Soleil cracked a grin. “You’re still my girl.”

“I know.” Taking my seat, I zapped my computer with magic and cracked my knuckles.

“The fuck is he doing here?” Soleil snarled, shooting to her feet.

The bell rang as the door swung open, and in strolled a man on Soleil’s top three most-hated list.

Fenton. Proud owner and founder of Pick Up.

“Fenton,” I greeted. I always took the reins when it came to this guy. It was all Soleil could do to contain herself in his presence. I could almost feel the steam coming out of my bestie’s ears. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

He tore his gaze from Soleil to me. “Cerys, sweetheart.”

“Just Cerys. You must know only old people say sweetheart these days.”

A true blow for someone who wanted to be considered hip and current. Fenton frowned but quickly recovered, grinning and revealing his two missing incisors. Vampires weren’t usually creepy, but Fenton had the quality in droves. Rumor was that he pissed off the head vampire dude and lost both his fangs as punishment. That was about when he decided to open a dating agency.

“Thought I’d touch base with my main competitor,” he said. “There’s more strength in an industry when we stick together.”

Yeah, right. Fenton came around to fish for what we were up to on the regular.

Pick Up may hold the bragging rights of the most profitable dating agency in Nepos, but we had a modern and innovative edge that he was smart enough to fear. We’d been around half the time of Pick Up and were closing in fast.

“Business booming?” He inspected our office, circling the outside and reading the posters and signs.

I shot a glance at Soleil and saw she was laser-focused on the guy. Uh-oh. “Not as booming as yours, Fenton. Any tips?” Flattery tended to work best on getting him out the door sooner rather than later.

“Play up the sex. I keep telling you girls. Sex is where it’s at.”

I could sell the concept of sex to a freakin’ sphinx. Sure, Pick Up filled a niche, but there wasn’t any artistry nor magic to the process. “We’ll have to consider that. A smart businessman like yourself. We’d do well to take a page out of your book.”

“You flatter me,” the vampire purred, eyeing some promotion posters for our Valentine’s Day event next month. Hardly groundbreaking for a dating agency, but Soleil would hit the roof if Fenton stole her marketing spin.

“Soleil baby, you’re quiet today,” Fenton called to her over his shoulder.

Her fangs appeared.

“Easy,” I mouthed at her.

She inhaled. And exhaled. The fangs retracted. “Just a lot to do today, Fenny. Every day. You know how it is.”

“I do,” he murmured. “You should consider hiring others to free yourself up. If your numbers can sustain another employee, that is.”

The guy was a total dick, but I preferred to keep up the appearance of friendly competitiveness because, honestly, I didn’t give two shits about Fenton the vampire. “Is there another reason you’re here? Maybe after true love yourself? We don’t have long before our first client.”

“Just curious.” He stopped before an advertisement for our upcoming speed-dating night.

I arched a brow. “Glad to hear it. Because I know Pick Up doesn’t need to borrow marketing ideas from its competitors.”

Fenton’s beady gaze flicked my way, flooding black for a second. “Not at all. Simple curiosity, sweet Cerys. Just that.”

Mmm-hmm, and I was a warlock.

Soleil’s hand twitched in my periphery, and I blanched at the very obvious sharpening of her nails to talons. Ah, shit. She was going siren. Time for Fenton to leave.

“Well, it’s been lovely as always,” I moved forward, “but we’ll need to prepare for that client.”

The bell above the door rang.

Of course said client chose that moment to enter.

I extended a hand to the incubus. “Hey, Vinny, right? Welcome to Yearning Hearts.”

“Vinny.” Fenton extended his hand after. “You’re in good hands here. Taught them everything I know.”

I didn’t dare look at Soleil after that comment.

The incubus glanced between me and Fenton. “You work here? I thought it was just chicks.”

“I’m at Pick Up. Founder and owner. Heard of us?”

“Yeah. I have a few friends who are with you.”

I gestured to my desk. “Fenton was just leaving. Vinny, if you’d like—”

Fenton held up a card that he probably pulled out of his ass. “Vinny, I have total confidence in these girls, but if you’re down on luck in love, then get down with love by choosing Pick Up. Sign up is easy and,” the vampire leaned in, “we have the highest success rate in Nepos.” He winked at me. “Not the second highest. Sorry, ladies.”

Soleil wouldn’t last much longer before going full-fledged siren.

The bell rang again.

“Hey, boss?” The cupid poking his head in our door smiled at me quickly before wiping it away for his employer’s sake.

Fenton sighed. “I told you to wait outside, Jaeke.”

“But the coins are ready.” There was a wooden quality to the cupid’s voice like he was reciting prearranged lines.

“Oh, the gold coins?” Fenton stage-whispered to Vinny, saying, “We’re holding an event this weekend. Every single gets a gold coin at the start of the night to give away. I’ll let you guess the rest. There will be a lot of full beds on Saturday, let me tell you.”

For an incubus, that sounded like a feast with all the trimmings.

Sure enough, Vinny scratched his chin. “Yeah? When does it start?”

“Nine o’clock sharp. Look, I’ve got to run now, Vinny boy, but pop by Pick Up for the deets! It’s gonna be wild. You don’t want to miss out. Single girls who are ready to mingle—if you know what I mean.”

Gross.

Vinny winked at me, and I said nothing. If this incubus wanted love, then he was already in the right place. But if he was after no-strings sex, then he wasn’t ready for my help just yet. To be fair to Vinny, turning away from that offer wasn’t easy for a sex demon. It was a dick move on Fenton’s behalf.

The owner of Pick Up clapped him on the shoulder. “Think about it, my friend.”

The vampire left, and Vinny lingered on the spot for a full three seconds before mumbling some hasty excuse and running after him.

We’d just lost a client and we’d never hear the end of it from Fenton.

“That. Mother. Fucker,” Soleil said in a hypnotic voice that she couldn’t help. This one didn’t steal your will, but it did relax you in preparation for just that.

Jaeke popped his head back in. “Going good, Cerys?”

Tearing my eyes from a white-lipped Soleil, I forced a smile. “As good as can be. Do you know how the others are faring?”

“Everyone’s accounted for from what I’ve heard. Did you hear more graves have been hit? Heart elementals again.”

I shook my head. “What’s this person hoping to find?”

“No idea. I just hope they find it from an already dead body and not a living one.”

“So do I. Oh, hey, the line of your black heart is smudged.”

He peered down and swore. “Thanks. The liner I use just doesn’t cut it. What stuff have you got? Your border is so tidy.”

“Lady Lash. Waterproof. But I’m not a sweater.”

In times gone by, cupids and heart elementals—and the original gen one heart maesters—used to be born with a black heart under their left collarbone. Nowadays, us cupids just drew the heart on to get more business.

Which was a lucky thing for me.

He smiled. “Lady Lash. I’ll give it a go. Better go follow my asshole boss. Sorry about that. If you didn’t twig, he had us recite that gold coin conversation in the carriage ride over. He never stops fretting about what you gals do here.”

Knew it. “That helps to soothe my ego some. Thanks. And stay safe, Jaeke.”

“Back atcha.” He disappeared.

At least with Vinny gone, I had a solid hour to calm Soleil down.

We were going to need more chocolate muffins.

10

I sat at the two-person bar table on the street front of Tiara’s Touch. I brought a lot of my dates here—the staff probably thought something was wrong with me with how many guys I went through, but I figured if these dates had to happen twice a week, then I may as well enjoy the meal.

“Sarah?” a man said behind me.

Twisting, I looked up. “Do you mean Cerys?”

“Oh, yes. Cerys, sorry.” The water elemental laughed. “I’m getting mixed up.”

“Go on a few dates?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Lately it feels like it.”

“Gets old, right?” I cracked a smile. “Hopefully ours will be different.” Crap, I couldn’t remember his name either.

The guy drew out the barstool opposite. “I’ve never been here. Good food?”

On the list of one million reasons why I hated dates, the same ol’ small talk would be near the top. “I like it. Tiara’s creative with her combinations, and I think passion like that is evident in her menu. Plus, she changes it up a lot.”

“Nothing like great food,” he murmured.

I wracked my brain for his name. The Saturday date was an earth guardian called… Nope, couldn’t even remember his name. Shoot. Did Soleil even tell me? “Totally. So, what do you do for a living?”

“Hold on. How about we order first? I’m starving.”

I wouldn’t say no. The sooner we ordered, the sooner we ate, and the sooner I could get to the business end of the night. “Sure. I’m hungry too.”

Water boy dived into the menu. “Oo, that sounds good.” He hummed, nose almost pressed to the menu. “I am partial to fennel. Yikes, not coriander though. I wonder if I could ask for them to leave that out and swap the brioche for ciabatta.”

Kill me. One of these. “Coriander is the worst.”

I liked coriander, but hating it may get a water elemental in my bedroom. Now I was lying about herbs to get men into my bed.

“You hate it too?” He looked up, and I felt the first tell-tale signs of openness. For the most part, people wanted the same things—someone who would listen that they shared a few interests with. Most people wanted to be attracted to their romantic interest, too, though some cared more about companionship. And most people didn’t want to pry answers out of their date. There were those who wanted the exact opposite, of course, and were drawn in by mystery, like my incubus date last Saturday.

Water elemental man wasn’t of that ilk. “Literally the worst.” I lied. “Give me fennel any day.” Yuck.

The waitress appeared. “Hey, Cerys, the usual?”

“Please.” I handed her the menu I hadn’t bothered to open.

“And your guest?” She stood at the ready with her pen and paper.

He smiled at her. “Hey, I’m Chase.”

Ha! Chase.

“I’ll have the spicy Moroccan carrot salad, please. But is it possible to substitute the carrot for parsnip? I’ve already fulfilled my vitamin A quota for the day.”

The waitress flicked me a quick look, and if her look meant “get rid of this one,” then I’d accommodate her once he hopefully touched my sheets.

“I’ll see what we can do for you, Chase.” She didn’t show any outward sign of annoyance. Go her.

When she left, he crossed his legs. How? Didn’t he have a penis to work around?

I put aside that conundrum as he asked, “Come here often?”

I fanned my lashes downward. “More than I care to admit. I may love a spa bath after a long day at the office, but I’m not much of a cook.”

“I’m partial to a spa bath myself! And lucky for you, I’m a great cook.”

Not if he put fennel in stuff. “Why?” I met his gaze. “Are you going to cook for me, Chase?”

He had nice green eyes—nothing on Soleil’s—but nice all the same. They heated now. “Play your cards right, beautiful, and I’d be happy to.”

Yippee. “How did you get into cooking?”

Chase settled into the seven-part saga of just how that came about, and I allowed my mind to wander, tuning in at intervals to catch some key points I could throw back at him. I was a shitty date. And that was just another deplorable element of the curse. I didn’t want to hoodwink people, especially with love—with what I was and what I did for a living.

Yet I had to do that every Friday and Saturday. These guys came to meet me with the best intentions while I went on these dates to use people.

“My great-grandmother was a deft hand with herbs and spices,” Chase said grandly.

“I would’ve loved to meet her,” I put in.

He hardly noticed, pushing on with his saga.

Chase was what I’d learned to categorize as a me-man. Guys who only wanted to talk about themselves and usually tended toward the narcissistic. Didn’t mean they were bad people. They’d just do better with someone who adored the sunlight beaming out of their buttholes.

“Beetroot and chocolate. Ingenious,” I murmured.

My focus wandered to the street—the exact reason I always sat here. If my date got boring, then there were always interesting happenings out there. Unusual types. Changing storefronts. On occasion, I spotted real dates between people I’d matched at work.

My face froze.

And sometimes I spotted damn detectives too. I swung my hair forward to hide my face.

“What are you doing?” Chase asked. “Your hair looks beautiful as it is.”

“Hmm?” I tried to slouch. Kind of hard on a bar stool. “Nothing, just a… breeze. You were saying that…”

Shoot, what was he saying?

Unfortunately, Chase didn’t seize and run with my cue to talk.

Quiet spread between us like an oil slick on the ocean.

Ah, the awkward silence on a first date.

Been a while since I’d had one.

The silence dragged on.

Impressive. Most dates would’ve started to babble to fill the quiet by now.

I wondered how long it would go for if I continued to say nothing.

What was Soleil doing tonight? If this wrapped up early and I didn’t get blinded by condoms, we could catch a movie.

“Miss Concordia.” A deep voice—filled with the usual boredom—interrupted the silence.

Nuts.

I swept back my hair. “Oh, hey, Detective Devereaux!” I beamed at my date. “This here is Detective Devereaux. Detective, this is Chester.”

“Chase,” the water elemental said, frowning.

The berserker’s lips may have twitched a tiny amount. Consider me surprised he had a sense of humor under that long coat.

“Excuse my interruption.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “First date?”

“Yes, so if you’ll—”

“Did you get my message, Miss Concordia?”

I screwed up my face. “Message?”

“I taped one to your door.”

“No. Guess the rats got to it.”

Chase looked between us.

“The rats,” the detective echoed. His smooth expression didn’t alter in the slightest. “I see. A good thing I bumped into you and Chester then.”

“Chase.”

The berserker continued as though the water elemental hadn’t spoken. “It was a reminder that I need to interrogate you at the station. By Sunday. As said, Abuse of power is something law enforcement takes very seriously, Miss Concordia.”

What. A. Jackass.

Chase stood. “Uh, sorry, Cerys. Something’s come up. Let’s do this again though. I’ll get in touch?”

I didn’t bother replying as the water elemental grabbed his jacket and left the table. Sighing, I glared at the detective. “Did you really need to do that?”

He leaned against the waist-high picket fence bordering the restaurant and looked out at the street. “Consider it payback for making me run around.”

I watched the elemental weave through the restaurant. He passed the waitress carrying our food without slowing.

“Look,” I muttered darkly. “He’s not even paying his half.”

Devereaux glanced back and grinned.

So that’s what he found funny—others’ misery.

“That guy wasn’t right for you,” he said. “He’d bore you to tears.”

I’d disagree, but Chester nearly did that five times in the last ten minutes.

“Food’s up.” The waitress put the meals down.

At least there was still great food to look forward to. “Thanks, Ulsta.”

“Better luck next week. Oh wait, you have a reservation here tomorrow night too, right?”

Two sentences and she’d just made me sound like the biggest loser in Nepos.

The detective’s gaze found my face. “You come here twice a week with new guys?”

“Not every week.” I did my best not to sound defensive. Sometimes I went to other restaurants.

“Sometimes you go to other restaurants?”

I blinked. Whoa. Freaky. “Do berserkers read minds?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” I met his eyes for long enough to see that instead of boredom, he was maybe amused. The maybe amusement softened his face and knocked off a few years.

I decided it was displeasing to the eye.

He turned back to the street. “A cupid who works alongside a siren at a successful dating agency and who learned to speak jazz at B Sharp, which made her the natural enemy of Duke. Who goes on two dates each week, mostly at the same restaurant, yet despite what one would assume about her pursuit of romance, she seems more annoyed by tonight’s date not paying than being ditched by him.”

These days, I called that a night off. “Are you profiling me or something?”

“Or something,” the berserker murmured.

“Miss Cerys?”

So focused on the detective, I didn’t immediately see the sun fairy. I had no trouble remembering her name. “Bella, how are you?”

I could just see her shy smile through her glow.

“Good, thank you. I’m sorry to interrupt your date.”

“Date? No no. The detective here is…” Dang, the truth was worse. “Yep, we’re on a date.”

The sun fairy beamed—literally. “I just wanted to thank you for my match.”

Inhaling slowly, I basked in her happiness. “It went well with Quentin, I take?”

She held out her hand, and I squinted to see the tiny ring on her finger. “Bella! Congratulations. Your ring is so beautiful.”

Tears stung my eyes as she glowed brighter still—and they weren’t just from the glare. The sun fairy was totally in love. My chest filled with her joy, and after a crappy week and an even crappier day, this made everything worth it again. “Thank you for coming to tell me. I wish you and Quentin every happiness. You look over the moon.”

“I am,” Bella squeaked. “Thanks to you.” She cast a look at the far-too-observant detective, then winked at me. “Enjoy your date.”

The sun fairy flittered away.

Didn’t plan on it. The sooner he left, the sooner I could get home and into track pants and eat avocado-covered chocolate while watching Lyre’s Lies.

“A cupid who finds true joy in other’s love,” the detective said softly.

I glanced at him. “That’s what cupids do.”

“I’ve met a few cupids in my time, Miss Concordia.”

“Not ones who’ve had engaged clients approach them, clearly.”

He conceded that I was right—or that was how I chose to interpret his silence.

The detective glanced at Chester’s untouched meal. “You mind? Haven’t eaten all day.”

I was already picking up my knife and fork. “Be my guest. Wouldn’t want a hangry berserker roaming around.”

His face shadowed, and I lowered my cutlery. “Sorry, that was really rude of me.”

After a beat, the detective nodded curtly. Reaching over, he took a piece of spiced parsnip while I stabbed into my stuffed bell peppers. The outside of my meal was healthy, the inside was not.

We ate in silence for a while.

I had to wonder what the people walking by thought about Devereaux eating from the other side of the fence. Honestly though? In Nepos, this probably didn’t register on the weird and quirky scale. And sadly, this meal was turning into the most enjoyable date I’d had in a long time—even if it wasn’t a date at all.

“I’ll need you at the station by Sunday, Cerys,” he said after eating most of Chester’s meal.

I knocked back the rest of my wine. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”

“I’m ecstatic. You seem to have missed the memo the other three times.” Detective Devereaux narrowed his eyes.

I twirled my hair around my finger and batted my eyelashes at him.

He snorted. “I better get back to work.”

“Still investigating that stuff to do with the brownie?”

His face smoothed, and I didn’t imagine the sudden chill in the air. “It’s best that you forget what you saw last night.”

My smile slipped at the sudden change, a stark reminder of what he could become.

Though his reaction told me that whatever Detective Devereaux was butting his nose into, he wanted to keep it quiet. “I will. Don’t worry about that. But if you’re trying to get information on rich people, then my friend says that equally rich people are the way to go. They all secretly hate each other.”

He didn’t show any surprise at that tidbit. “How does your friend know that, Miss Concordia?”

I dabbed at my mouth with a cloth napkin. “How about you don’t interrogate me when I’m trying to help you?”

He chewed on my reply. “I can work with that.”

Goody. “Have a great weekend, Detective. I’ll see you Monday.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked, and I tucked away my glee.

“Sunday, Miss Concordia. Don’t forget.”

I’d squeezed five days out of him. The bastard was far more stubborn than I’d given him credit for.

Saluting, I leaned down to grab my tote.

… And when I straightened, fifty dollars was on the table and Detective Devereaux was nowhere to be seen.

11

Grimacing a smile at the doorwoman of Goddess of the Hunt, I hobbled into the bar and scanned the crowded tables of descendants all enjoying their Sunday sessions.

Narrowly avoiding a sloshing drink and ducking between two earth guardians—I’d had enough of them after last night, I limped onward, scanning the tables.

“Cerys!”

My brows drew in as I spotted Austin sitting up at the bar.

I shuffled over. “Hey, what are you doing here? Is this your local?” I couldn’t not say hi if he just happened to be here.

My fears were realized when a hint of confusion entered his glacial blue gaze. “Uh, no, I’ve never been here. Just came for the staff catch up?”

Dammit, Soleil. I drew out a seat. She’d failed—purposefully—to mention Austin would be joining us. I’d thought this was just a business meeting where we pretended to do work while secretly getting drunk.

A hint of red entered his cheeks. “You didn’t know I was coming.”

Shoot, this guy was perceptive. And I didn’t want him to feel unwelcome. I smiled at him for the first time. “Soleil attempts to enrich my social life on occasion. It’s not you.”

He nodded and sipped at his dark brew. Maybe a porter?

Flagging down a barkeep, I ordered a chardonnay. Espresso martinis were for when I didn’t have work the next day.

Wincing all the while, I managed to get up onto the barstool.

“Hurt yourself?” He set down his pint.

I sighed. “Earth guardian.”

Austin’s brows shot up as his face reddened. “Oh… I see.”

That did kind of sound like I’d been broken from hours of sex with a giant…

I wish.

Perhaps I could dispel him of that illusion, but Austin’s assumption was better than detailing the truth. After successfully opening the condom in my kitchen last night, I’d returned to the bed. The guy of uncertain name had come within a damn whisper of touching my sheets before the floorboards sprang up and bopped him one. Soleil had been right about earth guardians being stronger. He’d been hit by no less than ten of my floorboards as he staggered backward to the door. I’d been walloped by three before I leaped back onto the bed.

Out of all the dates I’d had in the last three years, he’d left the most suspicious that something magical was afoot—though his eyes could’ve been like that due to concussion too.

The result?

My butt was sore.

And my sheets were untouched.

“Does that mean you’re a homebody then? If Soleil tries to ‘enrich your social life.’” Austin quickly changed the subject.

Poor guy was totally embarrassed.

I lifted a shoulder. “I stick to the people and places I know, yeah.”

“I’m guessing Tiara’s Touch is one of those places.” He lobbed a smile my way.

Paying the barkeep for my drink, I considered my reply. “Why do you say that?”

“Saw you there twice over the weekend. On dates, by the looks. The earth guardian was last night, right?” He swiveled on his barstool and peered around the bar. “Not stalking, I promise. I live down the street a bit.”

My brows raised. “You live on Nox Street?”

He pulled a face. “Family money.”

Yet Austin chose to work at Yearning Hearts for not great money. “Soleil turned her back on an inheritance too.”

“She did? I didn’t need to go that far, luckily. My family is far more understanding than most rich families—probably because we don’t have a family business to continue on, so to speak.”

What type was he, dang it? I burned with curiosity. His last name was Lanaray. Perhaps I’d do some digging. “Well, while we’re on the subject of rich families, I just learned the other day that brownies name their kids after parts of the house.”

He chuckled, and my focus was drawn to that wind-swept blond hair of his. I was almost sure he didn’t style it and that his hair just sat that way—like he’d just left a photoshoot.

“Our brownies were Doormat and Settee,” he said.

Two brownies. Did that mean his family was rich-rich? I grimaced. “Doormat wouldn’t be my first pick for a child’s name.”

“I asked him about it one time. Doormat is a prestigious name for them, being that it’s the first thing a person stands on before entering the house. It combines the function of cleanliness with homeliness. Name goals, apparently.” He waggled his brows.

Chuckling into my chardonnay, I said, “Other types are so interesting.”

And so was Austin. I’d done perfectly well ignoring his existence until now, then Soleil had to go and make him feel part of the team with this “staff meeting.” Now Austin was more than a stranger and I wanted to know more about him.

He brushed his thumb over the rim of his glass. “I do enjoy different cultures. For instance, did you know that though brownies are so humble in almost all facets of their lives, they shun children they have that are born as gremlins?”

Huh. “I knew gremlins were gen three from that line but can’t say I knew about the shunning.” Gremlins were annoying and never went out of their way to help anyone, but I did feel sorry for them now.

I checked the clock behind the bar. “Soleil said 1:00 p.m.?”

Austin checked the clock, too, which now read 1:30 p.m. “She did.”

Soleil often ran a few minutes late, but not this late. Ugh, she better not be setting me up with Austin. She had to know that would be disastrous on so many levels.

I shrugged it off. “Here’s one for you. Do you know that mother fairies are so suffocatingly maternal that if they give birth to a sun fairy, that sun fairy will start attempting to escape their mother around age thirteen? The mother fairies catch them over and over again, but the sun fairy becomes progressively more cunning with their escape plans until eventually, around nineteen, they’re successful.”

He squinted. “I can’t decide if that’s funny or sad.”

I swirled my wine. “Agreed. Yet that process accidentally teaches sun fairies street smarts to survive out in the real world.” My opinion? If they weren’t all so shy, sun fairies would rule Nepos.

Austin tore his focus from the other occupants of the bar. His eyes had an almost birdlike intensity to them. Like his vision was constantly adjusting and sharpening. I would figure out his type.

“You must learn a lot about other types in your job.”

“I’d say so,” I replied. “Though all types are the same, really—when it comes to love and companionship anyway.”

“Is that what you’re after from your dates? Love and companionship?”

I asked others that question every day, but it wasn’t often directed at me. Austin didn’t know about the curse, so the question was harmless. I tempered my natural reaction to shut the conversation down. “I’d say so. It’s just not so easy to find. Obviously, there are bad dates, but then the bad dates can make the average dates seem far better than they actually are. But then the spark with those guys fizzles by the third date.”

Literally a copy and paste answer from an imp I matched today. I hadn’t had more than one date with a guy in three years.

“Being a cupid, I would have assumed you’d just know who suited you and not.”

“Seems counterintuitive, doesn’t it? My father said that the journey of falling in love is the beautiful part and that the goddesses and gods knew this. Cupids can’t sense our own love match because they didn’t wish to rob us of that journey. What about you? Are you dating at the moment? Or is there someone special?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I was betrothed at birth to someone who’s about the meanest woman ever.”

Gasping, I touched his hand. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.”

Austin’s glass shattered in his hand, and he yelped, sucking on his finger.

I jerked my hand back. Shoot.

That was totally my fault.

“Must’ve gripped it too tight,” he said in bemusement.

The barkeep tidied up the glass and spilled porter, depositing a fresh pint in front of Austin.

“Can you get out of the betrothal somehow?” I kept my hands firmly on my lap.

Rich families still did the whole betrothal thing sometimes, and breaking them off could come with serious complications if the union was magically bound.

He exhaled. “Working on it.”

His frustration and exasperation struck a deep chord within me. “Guess we’ve all got our things to work on, huh?” Me with my curse. Soleil with relocating her gold feathers. Austin with his betrothal.

“Don’t tell me you’re betrothed to the meanest man around,” he joked.

“Not quite.” I glanced at the clock again.

Austin followed my look. “This is odd for Soleil?”

“It is.”

“You don’t think she’s setting us up, do you?”

I choked on my chardonnay. “N-Nope.”

His eyes dipped ever so briefly over my bared midriff and faux leather leggings. “Probably a good thing. I get the feeling you’re not after mixing pleasure in the workplace?”

He’d thought about it, had he? And if the curse shattering the glass in Austin’s hand just before was any indication, I’d thought about it too.

I arched a brow. “That would be an accurate feeling.”

“I hear ya. Business only.” Austin faced the crowded room again as the barkeep approached.

“I’m good for now,” I preempted the guy.

Instead of asking if I wanted another wine, however, he held up a phone. “You Cerys? Someone’s looking for you.”

Oh. Taking the phone, I immediately blurted, “Soleil?”

Tears clogged her voice. “Cerys.”

I gripped the bar top. “What’s happened? Where are you?”

I’d seen Soleil cry once in five years. The day she plucked three gold feathers from her wings. “At Yearning Hearts. There’s been a break-in.”

12

Floorboard injuries forgotten, I leaped over the broken glass littering the pavement outside Yearning Hearts. One of the bay windows was shattered. The wildflowers that usually occupied the pots hanging outside lay trampled on the concrete. Dirt was scattered inside the building and out.

For a soul-crushing moment, I could only stand in the doorway, speechless at the destruction before me.

“Cerys,” a Soleil with red-rimmed eyes whispered.

Shaking off some of the shock, I took in the two law enforcement officers crouched over something on the ground, then located my friend at the sink. “Soleil.”

Crossing, I pulled the siren close and hugged her tight. “What happened?”

The crunch of glass alerted me to Austin catching up. Turned out, when Soleil was crying and Yearning Hearts was in trouble, I gained Olympian speed.

Soleil wiped her face. “I got a call from law enforcement. Someone had called in to alert them of the damage. I rang your place, but you must’ve already left. I rushed down here, and…” Her lower lip wobbled as she took in the office space.

Austin whistled low. “They didn’t need to throw all this stuff around to rob you. Seems a bit personal. Did they even take anything?”

“The computers,” Soleil choked out.

I frowned. “That’s all they took? The printer is still here?”

Soleil nodded.

Austin had a point. Why chuck stuff around like this if that was all they planned to take? And why just take the computers and not the printer or other semi-valuable items?

“Officers, I’ll take over from here.”

Detective Devereaux’s familiar voice tickled up my spine, and where the glass had crunched under Austin’s feet, I noted that under the detective’s boots, it didn’t make a sound.

One of the officers scoffed as he turned. “You must be—”

Devereaux tilted his head. “I must be what?”

The officer paled, kicking his partner. “Nothing, sir. Didn’t realize it was you.”

“Kindly leave things as they are,” Devereaux ordered. “I’ll manage this case henceforth.”

Was this even his department? “I thought you handled abuse of power cases?” I blurted.

The berserker met my gaze, gray eyes so cool and collected, and for some reason, that made my eyes want to fill with tears. He turned to speak with the officers.

Swallowing, I left Soleil with Austin to do my own sweep.

“They took the computers,” he said once the other officers left.

Devereaux walked around the perimeter, eyes roaming the floor. His brow was furrowed when he returned from the printer room. “Any other stolen property that you’ve noticed?”

I crossed to my desk and reached out for the drawer handle. My hand was snatched away and held.

Surprised, I peered up at the detective before staring at my hand encased inside his. That felt… so damn nice. To just hold someone’s hand.

I roused myself. “Detective?”

He released me, pulling a white cloth from the depths of his long coat. “Could be evidence there.”

“They’d use erasing charms though, wouldn’t they?”

“Hopefully not strong ones,” he murmured, pulling the drawer open.

My cheeks heated for some reason as we both looked at the contents. This felt oddly personal. Lip gloss. Matte pink lipstick. A clear lip gloss—for over the pink lipstick if I wanted a wet look. BB cream. Mascara. Tampons. A diary Soleil got me two years ago that I’d never used. And a scrunched-up ball of paper.

The detective picked up the ball of paper, and I froze.

He spread the paper flat, and the message he’d taped to the front door screamed up at us.

Dang. I tried to salvage it. “How did that get there?”

Shooting me an unfathomable look first, the detective shoved the note in his pocket. “They did a number on all your files here.”

Uh… this was just my normal desk messiness. “Yeah. But it all looks to still be here.” I had the rough shape of my mess memorized.

“Is there anyone you can think of who might have broken in?” His warm breath tickled my ear, and I sucked in a breath before putting some distance between us. The office had been damaged enough today.

“Fenton,” Soleil snapped from the kitchenette.

“Who’s Fenton?” Austin asked.

“And who’s this?” the detective asked, jerking a thumb.

Austin’s expression chilled. “This is someone who works here. Who exactly are you?”

Oh, shit. Not a story I wanted Austin to hear. “Detective, this is Austin, an employee of Yearning Hearts.”

“Where were you around eight hours ago, Austin?” the berserker asked.

Austin paled. “Asleep in bed. Wait, you don’t think I did this.”

“Depends” was the terse answer. “Can you prove you were in your bed?”

Cheeks reddening, Austin glanced at me. “Well, yes. I can. If I need to.”

Devereaux jerked, and after a beat, I realized what he’d assumed.

“No,” I blurted. “Not with me.”

Austin’s face flushed a deeper red, but he met the detective’s challenging stare without flinching. Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but notice that the berserker had relaxed significantly at my denial.

Don’t let your head go there, Cerys.

Stepping farther from the detective, I repeated what Soleil just said. “Fenton, the owner and founder of Pick Up. He was here the other day sniffing around for our latest promos. The cupid who works for him told me Fenton often frets about what we’re doing to get ahead in the industry. This could be his work.”

Devereaux didn’t appear to be listening very hard. His eyes were still locked on Austin.

“I can’t think of anyone else who would do this,” Soleil ground out. She whipped around to look at me. “You don’t think… my family?”

“There’s an issue there?” Devereaux murmured, retrieving his notebook from his coat.

Soleil crossed her arms. “Issues, yes. They’ve known where I am and what I do for some time though, so unless it was on a whim, then I’ve always gotten the feeling they find my middle-class efforts more entertaining than anything.”

“Family name?”

Crossing her arms, Soleil regarded him, then Austin. “Hucs.”

Devereaux’s head snapped up. “The Hucses?”

She flashed siren fang at him. “Is there another family around with the same name that I’m unaware of?”

He didn’t show any discomfort whatsoever at her show of entitled siren, instead launching into a series of follow-up questions. I hadn’t taken the detective for a celebrity follower, but there was a certain pent-up energy in his words and actions as he questioned Soleil.

“I’ll need to follow up with them,” he told her.

Soleil’s fingernails sharpened to talons. “If they had anything to do with this, I’ll follow up with them.”

“Do I need to remind you of the law, Miss Hucs?” he replied.

“It’s Soleil,” she hissed. Gold shimmered around her, and I stepped between them, pivoting to face Devereaux. “What’s the next step from here?”

He extracted a charm from his inner trench coat pocket and threw it. Yellow flashed and cordons appeared on the outside of Yearning Hearts, reading Do Not Enter. “I’ll comb your office for any evidence and bring in some revealing charms that will hopefully overpower any erasing charms used. Only works if they’re amateurs though. Pending that, I’ll follow up with this Fenton guy and the Hucses to get their whereabouts last night. The scene is about eight hours old.”

Really though, was this his department? And how did he know how long ago this happened? His sense of smell?

“Do you usually take on cases like this?” I pressed.

He eyed me. “No, but it gave me a chance to follow up with the cupid who still hadn’t visited the station.”

Austin fidgeted in my periphery. Never slow on the uptake, Soleil asked him a question to distract the guy from our conversation.

Moving closer to the detective, I said, “I was going to come after a staff meeting.”

“I thought it best to make sure.” He glanced around the office. “But you’ll have some cleaning up to do later tonight. Tomorrow though, Cerys. I expect to see you. Without fail.”

I actually did appreciate the extra time. “Thanks.”

My heart heavy, I sighed at the surrounding carnage.

“Got insurance?” he grunted.

“No idea. Soleil does that stuff. Computers can be replaced, I guess. Windows can be fixed.” And if Fenton had taken the computers for client details, he’d be sorely disappointed. Those details were locked up in our drives tighter than a goblin’s heirloom. We had a custom charm put on them so they’d self-destruct if the password was entered incorrectly three times. Everything automatically backed up to our external drive every ten minutes during the day.

Devereaux flipped the cover of his notebook shut. “Never nice to see something you love torn apart.”

I took in the ripped Valentine’s Day and speed-dating posters. The floor was polished wood, so we didn’t have to contend with stained carpet. A broom and dustpan outside, a rubbish bag and vacuum inside, and a quick call to the insurance company, and we’d be as good as new. “No, it’s not. But love makes it easier to rebuild.” I looked at Soleil and Austin, both of whom looked wholly uncertain as they stood amidst the carnage.

With a glance up at the detective, who was being far too observant—just for a change—I mustered a smile. “I should probably thank you for leaving the money on the table at Tiara’s the other day. It wasn’t even your meal to pay for, but thanks anyway.”

“Don’t mention it,” he grunted.

Okay, then. “Well, I better get those two out of here. Do I need to do anything else here?”

“I have it covered.”

“Will the culprit be drawn and quartered or something equally as horrible when you catch them?”

Amusement sparked in those cool gray eyes. Actually, I hadn’t seen him bored in our exchanges lately at all.

“I’ll see what I can do, Miss Concordia,” he said. “Tomorrow. Don’t forget. First thing.”

13

I studied my high-neck white jumpsuit in the full-length-but-too-narrow mirror on the back of my bathroom door. “What do people wear to interrogations?”

Soleil called from my bedroom. “Something innocent?”

Nailed it.

I reentered the bedroom to find my friend still in bed. “I thought we’d walk into town together.”

“No way. You already woke me before I had to be awake. This is where I’ll stay until I need to be vertical.”

“If you’d stayed at your own place, then you wouldn’t have had this issue,” I replied, walking into my small kitchen to grab a green juice. I hated the stuff, but it was the balance between convenience and nutritious content that I needed at this time of day. Otherwise, I skipped breakfast and got hangry and bingey by lunch. Some people could just eat endless chocolate muffins.

Carrying the green juice back to the bedroom, I sipped at the concoction while diving into a box of shoes to find my nude wedges.

Ah-ha.

I slipped into them and downed the rest of the juice, then entered my small walk-in wardrobe to find a sleek woven jacket that matched the shoes for color.

Cute.

Soleil cracked open an eyelid to examine my outfit. “I thought you were going for innocent.”

I spread the folds of the coat. “I am.”

“You look like a sexy woman trying to be innocent because she’s guilty of the crime.”

“Specific.”

Soleil closed her eyes again. “Since when do you worry about what a guy thinks of your outfit anyway?”

Thumping her with a pillow, I perched on the edge of the mattress. “It’s not for the detective. I’m trying to get out of this situation without being ousted.”

“Keep telling yourself that. You’re dressing up for Detective Asshole.”

“I thought he was Detective Hotty?”

“That was before he called me Miss Hucs.”

Yeah, that went down about as good as an unchewed corn chip.

“He’s going to let you off the hook,” she said. “The guy just took our case to see you. Totally obvious with all those looks of his.”

My heart skipped a beat. “How was he looking at me?”

“Like he was going to do something illegal when he caught whoever broke into Yearning Hearts just because they’d upset you.”

I wasn’t even sure Devereaux liked me. Maybe he didn’t adopt that bored tone around me anymore, but attraction? “If that’s true, it can’t hurt my chances this morning.”

She cracked open an eyelid. “Boo. That’s cold, Cerys.”

“Curses will do that to a gal,” I replied lightly.

I grabbed my tote. How was this heavier than yesterday? I didn’t put anything else in… did I?

Soleil rolled over as I walked to the door. “Just be careful with that one. Berserkers have issues, but that guy is up to something more.”

Mystery shrouded the detective, but he was in the job of solving mysteries, so that was hardly ground-breaking. “You think he’s not who he seems?”

She hummed. “Not as such. More that he has serious beef somewhere or with someone.”

With her background, Soleil picked up different stuff to me. I didn’t doubt her instincts for a second. “Roger that.”

She propped up on her elbows. “Remember, don’t admit to anything. Stick to the story we practiced. They haven’t got anything.”

Maybe Devereaux had eased up since I first met him, but I wasn’t sure that would help me today.

Leaving my apartment building, I released a breath, trying to settle into my morning walk, but the usual relaxing effect of Juno Park was lost on me.

Upon reaching Nox Street, I turned right instead of left and zigzagged through the connecting streets until I stood in the stretching shadows of the law enforcement station.

Yikes.

Maybe I should try that calming exercise I overheard a boggart chatting about at Nails Before Males a few weeks ago. Inhaling deeply, I exhaled as forcefully and as loudly as possible. Tiger breath—or whatever she’d called it. A human thing, she’d said.

“What are you doing, Miss Concordia?”

Yelping, I whirled to face the detective. More disheveled than I’d ever seen him, he carried a small coffee cup that smelled divine. A sports bag was slung over his shoulder.

My mind blanked for a full three seconds. “Uh. Tiger’s breath. Just a… Hey, am I too early?”

“I’d like to talk more about the tiger’s breath first.” He smirked. “What does it achieve?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, really. Just seemed like the time to try it.”

He slanted a look my way but didn’t remark further. The berserker gestured to the building. “After you. You’re not too early.”

It happened as soon as I stepped in front of him.

My body became hyperaware, every hair sticking up on end and every bare inch of skin breaking into goosebumps. What was he looking at? My legs or the shape of my body?

My ass?

The swing of my hair?

Neptune’s knee bone, Soleil was right. I was sexiness dressed as innocent this morning. I’d missed the mark inside and out. I could feel it in the movement of my hips as he walked behind me and in the shallowness of my breaths.

A muttered curse halted me.

Behind me, the detective shook hot coffee off his hand.

“Sorry,” I said under my breath.

He pulled the white cloth he’d used yesterday from his coat. “Why are you apologizing?”

Okay. Berserkers had good hearing. “Sorry that you’re hurt.”

Devereaux sent me a quizzical look. “Just spilled coffee.”

I smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

“Are you all right, Miss Concordia?” He straightened and stepped closer.

No, my mind had taken this moment to decide I wasn’t all right. Stupid tiger’s breath made things worse. “Just worried about Yearning Hearts after the break-in. There’s a lot to do. Can we get started?”

His expression smoothed. “Sure. Right this way, please.”

We passed another officer who gaped at the silent presence behind me.

“Dev, that really you? Do you know what time it is?” the officer said.

“Morning.”

“Exactly. When are you ever here?”

The officer peered at me, then opened his mouth. The detective stood between us, gripping my upper arm. “Excuse us, Bazet. Business to attend to.”

I let him march me around the corner.

Detective Devereaux didn’t come early to work for me, did he? Cheeks warming, I glanced up at him.

“Just in here.”

His voice did things to me.

“Ouch,” he cursed, shaking the hand he’d just trapped in the interrogation room door.

Oops.

I really should set my mind to anything other than the detective and his hotness. Poor guy had a burned and squashed hand and I’d only been with him for five minutes.

I took one of the seats. The room was the typical table and two chairs kind of deal that I’d seen plenty of times on TV. “How does this work?”

“First time?” He pulled a file from his sports bag.

“Contrary to what you may think, I’m not a criminal. Here, I brought my testing papers.” Digging in my tote, I passed them over.

He gave the very believable illegal papers that cost my paternal grandparents their entire life savings when I was born a cursory glance before handing them back. “I don’t think you’re a criminal.”

I lifted my head. “What do you think I am?”

The detective tilted his head. “Perhaps I’ll tell you another time.”

That wasn’t flirting talk, was it? It sounded like flirting talk. “Right. Well.” I cleared my throat. “Right.”

“Look,” he said. “We don’t have any evidence. The humans haven’t reappeared, and even if they did, the sprite’s account of their appearance leaped wildly from the beginning to the end of his statement.” Devereaux met my gaze with a pointed look. “To reiterate, Miss Concordia, I have nothing tying you whatsoever to the scene aside from the fact that you entered Juno Park around that time and live on Ceres Close.” He leaned back. “Knowing that, please go ahead and tell me about your whereabouts that night.”

The detective was helping me. I may be unsure about the flirting, but not about this. Taking a breath, I launched into the carefully groomed story I’d practiced with Soleil last night. We’d kept it brief, sticking to what I’d already told him. The more detail, the more chance of getting caught.

“You took your usual path home?” the detective murmured.

“I did.”

“It takes around twenty minutes to walk from your workplace to your apartment?”

“Correct.”

He flicked back a few pages in the file. “The sprite reported that the incident took place at 5:15 p.m. Even if you finished work at 4:50 p.m., then you would have passed that point already when the incident occurred.”

I didn’t say anything. He was definitely helping me.

Detective Devereaux finished jotting something down and closed the file. “Thank you for coming in, Miss Concordia. I appreciate your help in tying up the loose ends on this case.”

That was it?

My voice shook. “No problem. Do you think you’ll find the culprit?”

“I plan to submit this case for dismissal to our chief. It may interest you to know that we receive no less than fifty tip-offs from sprites each week.”

I grinned. “Really?”

“Really.” He smiled, and my heart stopped beating.

On second thought. I did it, Detective. Lock me up and throw away the key.

It should be illegal for this man to smile. My mouth dried, and for the first time in a long time, my mind escaped the confines and catapulted to exactly what I’d do to him given the chance. Heat flushed my body as I allowed myself to truly look at his towering, muscular frame.

I licked my lips.

The wail of sirens disrupted my fantasies like a cold slap. Overhead, sprinklers erupted, shooting water in every direction, and I shrieked, throwing my arms up. Fucking curse!

A strong hand grabbed mine, tugging me out to the hall.

Too late, I realized Devereaux touching me would continue to trigger the curse. A body bowled from another room, and the air whooshed from my lungs as the person collided into me. My feet disappeared from beneath me on the slippery floor.

I landed hard.

“Cerys.” Devereaux crouched beside my wheezing, soaking form. “Are you all right?”

I couldn’t talk as he picked me up and strode down the hall, leaving the other man behind.

“Put me down, please,” I gasped.

He didn’t hear above the wailing sirens.

I tapped his shoulder frantically, but when he looked at me, my mind discarded the cold jets of water spurting down from the ceiling. It forgot the piercing screams of the sirens. And it latched onto one fact.

A man was holding me in his arms. A man I was attracted to—or else anarchy wouldn’t have been unleashed on the station. I closed my eyes and absorbed the feel of his arm around my back and the other one under my knees. His skin on mine. My hand against his firm chest. The way my side was pressed against his torso.

Tears stung my eyes, mixing in with the water from the sprinklers when I opened them.

Watching me, the detective slowed to a complete stop as his cool gray gaze shifted over my face.

“Please put me down,” I croaked.

A shadow entered his eyes, but he obliged.

I immediately put distance between us, and like magic—because it was—the sprinklers and sirens cut off.

“Did you get hurt with that fall?” He pitched his voice low, and I knew it was because he perceived I was upset and didn’t know why.

I held up my hands. “I’m fine. No injury.”

He stopped short of touching me and seemed to accept my words, turning to check the other drenched occupants. “Wonder what set it off.”

Guilty as charged.

And I was soaked. Shrugging out of my waterlogged coat, I became aware the detective had gone utterly still. My instincts froze me, but I unlocked enough to raise my head.

The detective was looking at my chest.

Oh, shit.

I peered down.

White jumpsuit. No bra. Enough said.

Snapping out of my trance, I held my coat up, and Devereaux blinked a few times. Probably for the best. This building couldn’t handle any more of our lust today. Damn thing would fall down.

His focus returned to my chest, but he honed in on my black heart tattoo this time. My heart raced before I recalled that the black liner I used to cover it was waterproof just in case of rain—and apparently sprinklers at the station.

“Excuse me,” someone said behind me. “Are you Cerys Concordia?”

Pushing back a fistful of sopping hair, I met the watery eyes of a man with graying hair. Fancy suit. Briefcase. Potential stick up his ass. “Yes, I am she.”

He smiled—not the nice kind—and I took in his pointed teeth before he faced the detective. “I will be taking over this case, Detective. I require all relevant files and your notes up to this point. Miss Concordia, you’ll need to come with me now.”

I could only stare as he rattled everything off before I’d realized what he was talking about. “You mean the report from that sprite? That had nothing to do with me. I’ve just gone through everything in my statement. You’re telling me you’re about to waste more of my time?”

Not a bad recovery.

Who was this guy? I could guess he was Devereaux’s superior. Which wasn’t great news for me.

The man eyed me like a bug on the bottom of his shoe. “The Nepos Bureau of Crime believes this case warrants further investigation.”

“The NBC is interfering in a crime of this level?” the detective asked, moving to stand beside me.

The older man’s contempt was thinly veiled as he peered up at the berserker. “What LE chooses to see as interference, the NPC sees as a necessity to ensure justice is served.” He faced me. “And I intend to do just that.”

My pulse quickened.

I snorted. “Look, I’ll check my schedule and get back to you. This has taken up enough of my time. I have a broken-in office to deal with first.”

The guy from the Bureau glared and opened his mouth.

Devereaux intervened. “Sir, we’ve encountered some sprinkler difficulties this morning. All our interrogation rooms are currently flooded. Allow me to run you through the case while everything is put to rights, but I’m afraid questioning Miss Concordia will need to wait.”

Mr. Bureau glowered at the flooded hall before turning his glower on me. “I’ll be seeing you.” He flicked a dismissive glance at Devereaux. “I’ll expect those files and notes to arrive on my desk by the end of the day.”

The detective nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Jackass,” I muttered as the guy walked away.

We watched as Mr. Bureau entered a carriage that certainly wasn’t a hire carriage.

The guy had money too. Great.

Devereaux glanced at me. “Some advice, Miss Concordia.”

I arched a brow.

His lips pressed into a grim line. “Lawyer up.”

14

I swept the last pile of glass, flowers, dirt, and shredded pieces of paper into a rubbish bag. Cleanup was nearly done. Austin had gone to print off fresh posters while Soleil rescheduled clients. We’d taken Monday off—a first-time occurrence—and those clients would need to be slotted in somewhere now. That meant overtime for the next couple of weeks.

Leaning on the end of the broomstick, I watched a wizard approach.

He’d be here for us.

“Yearning Hearts?” the bearded man said in a sneering tone.

Maybe Yessa wasn’t so bad compared to the rest of her type. “That’s us. Insurance send you?”

Behind me, the bay window to the right of the door was wide open. With everything mostly put to rights, and the law enforcement’s cordon ward now gone, we hadn’t wanted to leave our office open to the public. Imps and gremlins would wriggle in to wreck the place in a flash.

The wizard didn’t answer me.

Reaching into his robes, he extracted a small bottle and twisted off the dropper. Walking along the bay window, he squeezed the silver contents onto the window frame.

Glass grew in the frame from the bottom up, emitting a high-pitched whine until the entire frame was filled yet again.

That was why witches and wizards got away with being assholes. They were handy assholes. Yesterday, the detective used a charm to cordon off the scene, and most people had some charm or another lying around the house. There was no limit to what kind of charm a person could buy, though if they wanted a custom one developed, then it’d cost. Of course, curses were available, too, but law tightly regulated the sale of those, and some witches and wizards refused to sell curses, keeping that power as their autonomous punishment “thing.”

The wizard replaced the dropper and walked off without a word.

I waved at his back.

“Hey,” Austin called from behind.

Whirling, I brushed my hair behind my ear. “Hey, get everything?”

With most of the paper torn and ruined, we’d had to pay a copy and print place across town for new posters.

He held up the stack in his arms. “Got them. Nearly lost my virginity too, though.”

I smiled wryly. “You’re trying to tell me you’re a virgin, Mr. I-have-an-alibi-for-Sunday-night?”

“Wasn’t talking about that virginity. Don’t think my ass has ever been accidentally groped that much.”

Laughing, I took the stack of posters from him. “Then you deserve extra thanks for braving the print shop.” Maybe I wasn’t totally enthusiastic about Austin’s presence at the start, but he’d been great to have around the last couple of days—an extra someone to lean on. “The window is fixed, so let’s get these up.”

Austin strode into Yearning Hearts ahead of me, and sue me, I couldn’t help it after that conversation.

My eyes dipped to his ass in some nice-fitting dark jeans.

Shit.

Yeah, it was grope-worthy for sure.

I tore my gaze away before the bay window shattered again—or something equally as annoying.

A wailing chant followed us through the door from outside. “Get Your Paaaaaaper. Get it. Get it. Get it. Get it. Get it. Get it. Get it.”

Austin groaned. “I hate gremlins.”

Even being the discarded children of brownies, it was hard to like their type when they came around selling newspapers.

“Get it. Get it. Get it. Get it.”

“Oh!” Soleil slammed down the phone and grabbed her purse, rushing from the office.

We watched her paying the newspaper gremlin, and when she entered the office again, her nose was already buried in the sheets.

Austin cleared his throat. “Crossword fan?”

I grinned again. Damn, the guy was pretty funny too.

“A client just told me the break-in was featured in the paper after she canceled her appointment for this Thursday.”

Not to toot my own horn, but we didn’t get cancelations for any other reason than someone had signed up and then met someone in the meantime. So that was unusual.

“Here it is,” she muttered.

I leaned in to read the headline, Austin peering over her other shoulder.

A Date with Crime

“That seems misleading,” I murmured. The article went on to detail the incident and ended by noting our “lax security measures” and “dated storefront.”

Soleil’s hands formed tight fists, crushing the paper within them. “Our storefront is quaint, not dated.”

“Who wrote this?” I eased the top half of the paper free from her murderous grip. “Gug G. Gregaggog. Sweet Minerva, that’s a lot of G’s.” I worked the rest of the paper free. “But hey, it’s not so bad. Just a couple of criticisms.”

We didn’t have any security; it was true. Neither did most of the stores on and around Nox Street. The foot traffic made things safe, and this just wasn’t a high-crime area.

The phone rang, and a furious Soleil perched on her desk to answer.

“This is Yearning Hearts, where love doesn’t discriminate,” she said brightly, face a thunderstorm.

If only they could see her talons gripping the receiver.

She nodded. “I assure you that no information was lost or breached during the break-in. Your details remain confidential. Our software has unbreakable security measures in place.” She nodded again, face like stone. “We’re sorry to see you go, Mr. Zepice. If you ever want to start the quest toward love again, then I hope you’ll return to Yearning Hearts.” Her fangs popped out, and there was a slight lisp to her next words. “Pick Up? Sure, I wish you all the best there.”

My gut dropped on her behalf as she ended the call.

Her fangs disappeared. “Another cancelation. They’re going to Pick Up.”

“Are they worried other people will find out they’re signed up with a dating agency?” Austin placed the stack of posters down on her desk.

Love was an odd thing like that. If it didn’t come knocking, then people started to believe there was something wrong with them. I’d say around half of our success stories would be slightly ashamed to admit they’d met their significant other via a dating agency. And some yet-to-be-seen clients would be highly embarrassed to sign up with us at all.

The phone rang, and I watched Soleil’s heart splatter on the floor as yet another client canceled.

“We have a six-week waiting list,” I said when she replaced the phone again. “This is a good thing. And you know in a month, it will be like this article and break-in never happened.”

“Absolutely,” Austin added.

Sending him a grateful look, I gave Soleil a tight hug.

The doorbell rang, and Austin left to greet an earth mage—evident by the green swirl on her forehead—that appeared to have our new computers in tow. Good, I’d had to siphon my magic off into the printer this morning, and it started spraying out paper inked with love hearts.

Leaving him to the computer lady, I thumbed through the newspaper in search of more heart elemental grave digging news. Nothing at the back.

I flicked through the front half too. More on the Hucses—a breakup and secret engagement rumor. First page again. Vomit.

I paused on the third page.

Cupid Gone Flying

Who made up these headlines? They sucked. Cupids didn’t fly. The first generation type of our line—heart maesters—were able to fly; all the better to seek out those in love and get close enough to shoot their arrows. But while the first two generations of our line had both possessed huge bows that we cupids didn’t get, the ability to fly was lost in the gen two heart elementals like my father.

My heart sank as I read through the article.

The cupid was last seen by friends and family on Sunday evening at 9:00 p.m.

I stared at the page.

Crap.

A cupid was missing.

This wasn’t necessarily related to the grave digging. Cupids got caught up in bad stuff just the same as any other type. Whenever we did go missing, it tended to create bigger news simply because everyone liked to talk about our brutal history and whether someone had been driven to desperate measures all over again.

My stomach churned.

I had a bad feeling about this one.

“Hi,” I said to the earth mage. “Could you hook my computer up first?”

Soleil threw me a look. Fair enough, she’d been trying to reschedule appointments all from printouts of our diary.

“It’s important,” I mouthed.

She nodded, then beamed at whatever the person had said on the phone, her Apollo glimmer making an appearance. “Great. We’ll see you next Thursday. Seriously, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. Yearning Hearts has got your back.”

She’d saved one. That would make her happy.

I tried not to unnerve the earth mage connecting the new computer. The woman darted a few looks over her shoulder at my hovering form but worked deftly, and I wasn’t left toe-tapping for long.

“Do you need help loading software?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Our operations manager will go through that with you, if that’s okay? Is it all connected to the magi-web?”

“Sure is.” She left, and I tried to remain calm while taking my seat and opening a browser.

Austin whistled. “Shit, did you see this, Cerys? A cupid is missing.”

I slowly looked up, noticing that Soleil heard him too.

“Austin, how about we get those posters up?” She stood and held out half of the posters to him.

He looked between us. “Did I step in poop again?”

Maybe I could tell him about this. Not like it was anything he’d get suspicious about. “No. It’s just, for obvious reasons, when a cupid goes missing, it’s… stressful. We all check in with each other. I’m just going to do that now.”

He closed the paper and smiled sadly. “I understand. I’ll leave you to it.”

When I logged into the chat room, the three hundred unread messages in my inbox told me the other cupids were well in the know.

I scrolled through.

And gasped, covering my mouth. The missing cupid was Jaeke—the one who worked for Fenton at Pick Up.

Some of the other cupids were amongst the last to see him on Sunday evening. He lived a few streets back from Mercury’s Bend and only walked from Duke’s Dive to his home, yet his flatmate said Jaeke never made it.

“Poor guy,” I whispered.

Whether this was love related or straight-up crime, it was devastating. I’d liked Jaeke—I mean, yeah, he’d worked at Pick Up, but it wasn’t like cupids could be picky about where they worked.

I scrolled on, reading.

< Has anyone heard from Cerys? >

< Just checked her activity >, another had written, < She hasn’t logged on since Friday >

Better set that record straight. I typed. < I’m alive and well. Our agency got broken into on Sunday, so I’ve been off the radar. I’m so sorry to hear about Jaeke. If any of you need to talk, you know where I am. >

An influx of relieved messages poured in within a minute, and I responded to a few, pausing as a message from an elderly cupid named Klara popped up.

< Break-in on Sunday and Jaeke went missing on Sunday. Connected? >

I leaned back.

Well, shit.

Fenton was high on our suspect list for the break-in, and Jaeke worked for him. What if Jaeke had overheard something about the break-in and Fenton had to shut him up? Or what if Jaeke was forced to take part in the crime, and then Fenton decided to clean up the witnesses? I wasn’t sure he had it in him to kill a person. Though in saying that, the owner of Pick Up would probably cross a lot of barriers and break the law to protect his fun-loving, good-guy image.

Klara could be onto something.

I typed. < I know a detective. I’ll let him know just in case it’s linked. Love you all! >

Logging off, I walked to Soleil’s desk.

“Our waiting list is down by half a week and counting.” The siren was the picture of complete misery.

Around thirty clients. More than I’d expected. “It’ll be okay, Sol, I promise. We can invest in a few charms to tighten security too. Put the word out for any spooked clients.”

“My family will be having a field day with that article.”

Soleil’s curse was to desperately not want to care about her family’s opinion and live a life free of them. Unfortunately, she also desperately wanted to beat their asses by building a dating empire, which meant she compared herself to them regularly.

“Are you happy doing what you do?” I asked.

She sighed. “Yes.” She straightened after. “That sounded petulant. I really love what I do.”

“Then…”

She recited, “It doesn’t matter what other people think.”

I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Exactly. Let’s focus on what needs to be done.”

Her green eyes gleamed. “Security. New flowers for the bay windows. A press release to damage control.”

“There she is. Can I use the phone before you do all that?”

“My phone is your phone. Anything I can help with?”

I checked that Austin was still flirting with computer gal. In undertones, I related what happened at the station that morning with Bureau Man. We hadn’t had a chance to talk yet.

Soleil paled. “The NBC is investigating you?”

All my nerves came rushing back. I’d managed to put Bureau Man aside while cleaning up. “Yep. Devereaux said to lawyer up. I mean, they don’t have anything on me. I know that. But what is the Bureau exactly? Can they do stuff law enforcement can’t?”

“They tend to deal with the real messy stuff. My family is buddy-buddy with a few of them, as are most of the other twelve families, so I can only imagine the NBC is corrupt as hell. The question is, why are they butting their nose into your case? It’s small-time.”

“Devereaux asked the guy that, and he spouted some bogus answer about justice being served.” I shot another look at Austin and the earth mage. They were outside at her bike and cart. “There can only be one real reason though. Being what I am.”

Someone was sniffing to see if there was any truth to the case. Powerful someones.

Which was bad.

“You need a lawyer,” she announced.

I needed a lawyer, all right.

She winked. “I know a guy.”

Soleil always knew a guy. Unlike me, she had a prolific sex life—that she didn’t usually speak about around me because she felt bad. None of the guys lasted long though. She got bored at the drop of a hat. Some inferno personalities needed water to soothe them. My friend needed an inferno to match hers. She was someone who would only be happy with a really high percentage match—95 plus. Which was a beautiful thing in some ways and a painful thing too.

It also meant that until she found that kind of match… well, she had a guy for everything.

“He’s good?”

Her lips curved, and I whacked her. “Good at his job.”

“Ow, yes. Partner at a law firm just a few years out of study. I stalk his successes sometimes. He’s the real deal. And he wants me back, so I can probably get a discount.”

Ideal. I was saving my coins in case I happened to meet a demon who could piggyback me to the underworld. “If you could call him—”

“Cerys, don’t insult me. I’m on it.” She grabbed the phone.

“Actually, I had to borrow the phone for another reason.” I told her about Klara’s comment.

Her jaw dropped. “You think so? I mean, it makes sense. Mars alive, do you think they killed him to cover it up?”

“I just don’t know if Fenton is capable of offing someone. Maybe he could take Jaeke hostage or scare him out of town though.”

“Don’t be fooled by his façade. A vampire has to do a lot to warrant having their incisors ripped out.”

“You know what he did?”

She shook her head. “But I heard of another case where a vampire went on a witch hunt and killed five of them. Her incisors were ripped out and she was thrown in jail.”

So he could have murdered or seriously hurt another person in the past. “I better call Devereaux just in case.”

Soleil leaned back. “Not calling him detective anymore? That’s the third time you’ve used his name.”

I dialed triple seven for law enforcement. “I guess not. Not after this morning.”

She narrowed her gaze. “What happened this morning? Is that why you’re in a different outfit now?”

After the sprinkler episode, I’d had to zip home and change.

“Law Enforcement, do you require healer elementals, water mages, or an officer?”

I smirked at Soleil and turned away in response to her hissed, “What happened this morning?”

I’d leave her in suspense for a little.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m looking to speak with Detective Devereaux regarding the break-in at Yearning Hearts.”

“Please hold.”

An old tune by The Nymph Nodes came on, and I hummed along, tapping my toes and continuing to ignore Soleil.

The line crackled. “Detective Devereaux isn’t in right now. Would you like to leave a message?”

Yes. It would be: “You holding me in your arms was the most erotic thing to happen to me in three years.”

“Sure. Please just tell him Cerys Concordia called about Yearning Hearts, if he could get back to me when he has a chance.”

The line disconnected without further preamble. Some types just didn’t believe in wasting time with a goodbye when the conversation was clearly over. And those types probably shouldn’t work in reception jobs.

I walked to the kitchenette to indulge in a shit instant coffee. The water had just boiled when Soleil dragged me into the printer room and slammed the door.

Yelping, I bumped into the cabinet containing… well, I had no idea what they contained. This was Soleil’s area. “Are you going to ravish me? I’m not that kind of girl.”

“What happened this morning?” She shoved my shoulder.

“I’ll tell you later.”

She shoved me again, and I grinned. “Okay, okay. So Devereaux smiled, and I accidentally thought about how hot he was. Like, what I’d do to him—a fantasy, you know?”

“I am aware of these fantasies of which you speak.”

“We’d just finished up my statement. He said he’d move to have the case dismissed and that the sprite’s descriptions of the humans had varied wildly. Hey, do you know that sprites make upwards of fifty reports—”

“Back to the fantasy!” She shoved me.

“All right! Sheesh. My fantasy set off the station sprinklers and sirens, and the detective picked me up”—the pitch of my voice heightened with my contained squeal—“in his arms. My skin touched his.”

A split-second flash of sadness appeared in my friend’s eyes before she played the part I needed her to play. “I hope you wore a condom. No, wait. Let me quickly go buy a pregnancy scry, just in case.”

“I know. And I was wearing a white jumpsuit, so… water, boobs, heated stares. I’m totally pregnant.”

The door opened as the last words left my lips.

Austin’s lips twitched. “Who’s the father?”

“Sorry, Austin,” Soleil said. “Girl-talk time. Get out.” She slammed the door in his face. “Did anything happen after you flashed him?”

“I didn’t flash him.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Bet you were in a massive hurry to cover up when he was staring.”

I pursed my lips. “There was perhaps not much of a hurry had. And perhaps my motive when I did cover them was preventing the station from falling down.”

“You let him look at your boobs. Who even are you?”

The door opened.

“A sex-deprived maniac,” I answered.

Austin’s brows shot up. “It’s almost better just hearing bits of this conversation.” Soleil moved to slam the door, and he hurried to add, “You may be interested to know a reporter from Nepos Notice is here.”

Already?

I slanted a look at Soleil, who flipped her gleaming red hair. “I know a guy.”

15

Soleil’s lawyer guy had barely heard the entirety of my story before signing me up. Which I could assume had far more to do with his lust for her than belief in my cause. He’d reassured me that the case was ridiculous and wouldn’t see the light of day.

Twenty minutes after our phone call, he’d cc’d me in on an official complaint to the NBC that included a whole heap of lawyer jargon. I think he’d accused them of prolonging a case unnecessarily and of mistreatment or some crap?

Anyway, looked like I wouldn’t be seeing Suit Man again.

Inhaling deeply, I let the sounds and smells of Juno Park wash over me. Laughter, fading light, and the brown and red hues of fall surrounded me. Today, those things were a small reminder of what I’d nearly lost in recent times.

What if the sprite followed me home that day to see where I lived?

What if the humans had been frequent walkers of that track?

I didn’t do anything bad to them, but if a slap on the wrist and a monetary fine or a short stay in jail was all I’d get, then perhaps I would have considered confessing the truth. With my power, that would never be the case. I knew the NBC had an ulterior motive that didn’t have my best interests at heart. So they’d need to kill me before I ever confessed a damn thing.

I turned onto the narrower path that cut through the corner of the human reserve.

The sound of chittering sprites and distant singing mermaids cut off per usual.

But this time, the hairs at the nape of my neck rose.

I frowned, walking along the slice of track left free of the ivy ground cover. A shiver tingled my spine.

Was there someone out there?

When a twig snapped, my already blaring instincts erupted. Not bothering to stop and dig out the curse ball in my tote, I took off.

Arms and legs working hard, I ignored the heavy thump of my bag on my hip, instead sucking in quick breaths to fuel my sprint. Thanks be to the gods that I’d come home to change after the sprinkler incident at the station, wedges would not be ideal right now.

Footsteps.

Crashing.

Someone ran after me, out of sight in the oak trees. That someone could be a mischievous type after the thrill of the chase. Or it could be the person who did away with Jaeke.

I didn’t dare stop to find out which one.

The violent snapping of branches and shrill crunch of dried leaves to my left brought on a fresh burst of speed. I refused to slow as my white sneakers hit the cobbled cul-de-sac of Ceres Close.

The pounding footsteps stopped, but I sprinted down the street a way before slowing my pace. Because shoot. I shouldn’t go to my apartment if someone was after me.

Was the person still chasing me? Didn’t sound like it.

From the comparative safety of the street, I dared to look behind.

No one.

No one I could see. They must’ve stopped at the edge of the park. I scanned the shadows of the oak trees there and shivered. The person could be watching me right now.

In fact, I had a very strong feeling they were doing just that.

Turning away. I kept jogging around the curve of the road, puffing hard by now. The gate to my apartment wasn’t visible from the park entrance, so I pushed through and shoved the lobby door open.

Oof.

I screamed, glimpsing a flash of black clothing before I thumped to the ground.

Flat on my back on the lobby tiles, I shoved my tote away, preparing to run when I spotted the person’s face.

“Devereaux,” I gasped, sagging back down. “It’s you.” I lay spread-eagle on the ground, chest heaving. It’d be sexy if I didn’t have sweat in 100 percent of my crevices.

He crouched, gripping my shoulder. “Are you all right? Why did you scream?”

I mean, he was the person to tell. “Someone was following me just now. Through Juno Park. I wasn’t sure at first, but then a twig snapped, and when I ran, they chased after me.”

His brow furrowed. “Stay here.”

I delivered a weak thumbs-up as he burst outside.

I was still recovering on the lobby floor when he returned. “Any sign? Pretty sure they stopped at the edge of the park.”

“No sign.” The detective stared down at me.

“Want to help a girl up?”

He searched my expression. “I got the impression you didn’t like me touching you.”

“You did?”

“You always stare at wherever our skin is touching.” The detective extended a hand, and it took everything in me not to stare at our hands when I accepted the offer. Maybe I did do that. “I don’t get touched much.” My eyes flew to his. “I mean—”

Hmm, was there any way to salvage that slip?

Devereaux’s gaze took on a glittering quality. “Really? That’s a shame.”

It was? I mean, yes, it was a shame. But the detective was definitely flirting with me. I chewed my lip. “Uh, it’s a long story.”

Instead of asking for it, the detective pulled me upright with a twitch of his bicep—or so I liked to think.

“Any idea who the person following you was?” His brow furrowed as he glanced through the window beside the lobby door.

I shivered again. I felt seriously ill at ease after that experience. “Not a clue. But someone did something to my cupid friend, and someone’s digging up heart elementals too.”

“They are?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t you know that?”

He glanced away. “I’m not so interested in small crime, but I had heard about the missing cupid. You knew him?”

“We all keep in touch, especially during times like this. There’s safety in numbers. Do you think whoever took Jaeke is after me too?

Devereaux’s expression darkened. “It’s possible. Let me look into it.”

The poor guy was probably working full-time on cases involving me at this point. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” I bent down to pick up my tote and winced. “Ouch.”

Pulling up my cami, I pushed aside the waistband of my flowing linen pants and pressed the already visible bruise on my hip. “I have got to empty that tote.”

He cursed. “That’s from your bag?” Cool gray eyes riveted to the skin bared on my hip. Devereaux leaned forward to grab the tote and grunted.

I cringed inwardly but beamed a smile up at him. “Why go to a gym when you can exercise with your handbag?”

The detective passed over the tote without a word.

Clever man.

“Hold on,” I blurted. “Why are you in my apartment building?” It spoke for my state before that I’d only now realized this situation was absolutely weird.

The detective tilted his head. “You called.”

Huh?

Oh. I totally did. “Right. That makes sense. This way.”

My poltergeist neighbor popped through the stairwell door.

“Hey, Rodney.” I walked past him, Devereaux following. Or so I assumed since the berserker didn’t make a single sound when he walked.

“Ceryssss,” the poltergeist replied, gnashing his teeth.

“Heading to work?”

“Slice. Cook.”

“Sounds lovely. Enjoy your night!”

The poltergeist floated on, and ten seconds later, I stopped outside my door, staring at the white painted wood as I realized just who I was about to let inside. The person who’d chased me through Juno Park had also chased my brain cells away. I couldn’t let Detective Devereaux inside my apartment.

Yet I could hardly not go inside after leading him down here.

Shitballs.

“Has that poltergeist lived here long?”

“Hmm? Rodney?” I dug around in my tote to stall for time, becoming increasingly aware of the detective’s presence. “Uh, he was already here when I moved in a year ago.”

Devereaux hummed. “Ceres Close is a nice street. You’re making good money at Yearning Hearts.”

“The trashy cousin end of Ceres Close, but yeah, it’s a nice street. Thanks to Soleil, we do well. Though the break-in hit our waiting list.”

He leaned against the wall next to the door as I continued my key search. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Heat entered my cheeks as I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. Some men were too hot to lean. He was in that category.

And I should not think about how hot he was. The landlord already hated me for the number of repairs he’d had to do on my behalf. “Right. Thanks.”

“Would you like me to find the key for you?” Devereaux asked in a silken voice. “Or is there something you’re trying to avoid?”

I shot him a glare. He was onto me. “I found it.”

Shoving the key in the lock, I pushed inside and swallowed a groan.

Yep, I looked like a total freak. Who had bubble-wrapped bedposts?

Dammit.

“You moved in a year ago?” he murmured.

My flush deepened. Change the subject. “Yeah. So I called because of Jaeke’s disappearance.”

“Not my case.” Devereaux circled the room like a predator, which I guessed he kind of was.

“No, I know. I mean that Jaeke worked for Fenton, the owner of Pick Up. Jaeke went missing on Sunday evening, and the break-in at Yearning Hearts happened in the early hours of Sunday morning. I thought they might be related.”

His gray gaze found me. “They could well be. Do you know Jaeke’s last name and address?”

His interest made me feel like less of a conspiracy theorist for calling the station. “I can find out. Have you spoken with Fenton?”

“He’s given me an alibi for Saturday night and Sunday morning.”

“But?” I sensed the undercurrent.

Devereaux shrugged. “He’s lying. So he’s either worried about the crime being pinned on him, or he really did it. I’ll apply some pressure to see if I can crack the alibi. Your theory about Jaeke could be enough ammo to make him fess up.”

“You mean that you’ll threaten him with a murder verdict to get him to spill the beans?”

He nodded, clearly distracted. “Where’s your cat?”

My lips numbed. “What?”

“Your diabetic cat that you were worried would die unless you returned home. I assumed that was the reason you decided to leave Trilling and go against my order to wait.”

Oh.

Shit.

I blinked, glancing around. “My cat. Golly. My cat! Has she gotten out again? Today is just not my day.”

“How would she get out?”

“Bathroom window.”

He popped his head through the open bathroom door. “No window in there.”

Fucker. “Well, she must have gotten out somehow because she isn’t here. Dratted cat. Lucky she’s so cute because she sure is trouble.”

The detective’s lips twitched. Just the faintest amount. “What’s her name?”

I scowled. “Okay, fine. I don’t have a diabetic cat.”

“I’m well aware, Miss Concordia.”

Was he now? I folded my arms. “We’ve been drenched by sprinklers together. Surely we’re on first-name basis.”

He dipped his head. “Cerys. They couldn’t figure out what set off the siren and sprinklers. Must’ve been a malfunction.”

Thanks to that malfunction, I’d seen the detective with water dripping from the ends of his dark hair to run over his square jaw and disappear under his long coat. I slammed a lid on those thoughts, coughing slightly. “I hope there wasn’t much damage.”

“Nothing a few charms couldn’t undo once the wards around the building were dropped. Though it was a timely incident for you with the NBC showing up.”

I froze. Was he digging for info on the coincidence?

Devereaux was taking in the boxes and empty shelves though. Did that mind of his ever stop buzzing? He peered at the scuff mark on the floor from me shifting the bed every Friday morning. I hadn’t had time to move it back yet after making repairs from my Saturday date and then overtime at work with the break-in.

He peered up at the chandelier and back at the bed, then at the bubble-wrapped bedposts.

Distraction time. Again. “Uh, how did you get on with interviewing the Hucses?”

Devereaux pressed his lips together. “They’ve tied me up in legalities. It will be several months before I get to them—if ever. The twelve families are very good at evading the law.”

“Surely they have to obey it like everyone else.”

“You managed to wriggle out of a visit to the station for a week. If you added your determination to extreme entitlement and billions of dollars… They’re resourceful and not overly concerned about obeying anyone but the head of their estate.”

I scanned his solemn expression. “You’ve had a few run-ins with them.”

He regarded me before nodding ever so slightly.

Soleil was right. The detective had a problem with someone, and it was a rich someone.

“It’s a shame we can’t get Soleil to go with you,” I said. “The Hucses would open the gates for her, but she won’t step a foot in their estate ever again.”

The detective’s focus sharpened on me. “What about you?”

“Me?” I repeated slowly.

“I’m assuming they’d let their granddaughter in for entertainment’s sake. Why wouldn’t they do the same with her best friend? Do they know who you are?”

I’d never mentioned that Soleil was the granddaughter of the Hucs in charge. Devereaux had been researching her. My eyes narrowed. “They do.”

“Think you’d work as bait?”

In their minds, Soleil was the single imperfection on their terra sigillata vase. They’d turned her into a joke because the only alternative was to admit their family had a blemish, and that would be inexcusable. “We could try. With Soleil’s permission. She may not want me to get involved.” I gestured at the phone. “I could ask now.”

Devereaux looked at me with that same pent-up energy he’d gained while questioning Solei. He wanted inside the Hucses’ house. Bad.

I chewed my lip. “One thing before I do. I get the feeling that you have some vendetta against the Hucses or rich families in general. I need to know that whatever you’ve got going on won’t come back on Soleil if I do this for you. I don’t want her messed up in your personal stuff.”

His expression smoothed, and for the first time, Detective Devereaux Vincori seemed at a loss of what to say. His throat worked. “She won’t.”

“Okay then.” I unhooked the phone and dialed Soleil’s number.

“Soleil speaking.”

Unlike me, other people did actually call her so the introduction was warranted. “Hey, it’s Cerys.”

“Miss me?”

“Always, babe.”

“Remind me why we don’t flat together anymore.”

“Because of your pretty loud and prolific sex life.” I shot Devereaux a quick look, but he was inspecting the view of the street through my windows. “Listen, the detective can’t get access to your family’s estate to question them.”

“Not surprised. They don’t really take the law seriously. At all.”

He’d said as much. “He wants to use me as bait to get in.”

The line went silent, then— “No.”

I twirled the cable around my finger. “I think it’s worth considering.”

“They’ll try to humiliate you.”

“You know I don’t care what they say.”

She sighed. “You don’t know how harsh they can be. They just leave a person feeling icky.”

For them to get under my friend’s skin so bad, I could guess they were harsh indeed. “I know, but I’ll be there with law enforcement, remember?”

There was further quiet as she considered that. “I realize it could help, but…”

I leaped when Devereaux held out his hand for the phone. He was so damn quiet! And could he hear Soleil speaking on the line? That was really good hearing.

I handed over the receiver.

“It’s Detective Vincori,” he said calmly.

Even I heard her screeched, “You’re in her apartment!”

Awesome.

Now there would be hell to pay until I gave her the details.

“I am,” he said. “I thought you may be interested to know who the financial backers of Pick Up are.”

We already knew there were three of them. Fenton spouted on about that enough, but he’d never spilled the names. My stomach swooped because he was about to confirm something I’d wondered for years.

The detective murmured, “The Hucses are one of them, yes.”

I knew it! Soleil would turn full siren over that news.

This was the petty political rich stuff that my maternal grandparents had refused to get involved with despite their riches. They’d had no interest in advancing our social position and reigning over the general populace. It blew my mind that the Hucses were so embarrassed over Soleil’s decision and occupation that they’d backed her competition. What a shitty family. I mean, maybe I didn’t have my mother and father for long, but I did get ten loving years with them, and then another seven with one set of grandparents. My friend, on the other hand, grew up in the kraken tank.

Devereaux hung up the phone.

“Well?” I asked.

“She agreed.” He glanced at me. “And she’d like a full rundown on how I got into your apartment and why and also what I touched when I’m gone.”

I died inside. Time for the third subject change of the night. “When are we doing it? I mean, this. Thing. Doing this thing with the Hucses.”

After three hundred and something dates, I should be far better at talking to men.

Though really, I was.

Just not this particular one.

“Is midday, tomorrow, too soon?”

“We’re on catch up with appointments after the break-in. I’ll be off at six though?”

“I coach in Durita at six. How’s eight?”

“Perfect.” What did he coach? And how did he come to coach in Durita of all places? Things between us were friendlier now, but I bit back my questions. I got the feeling this man wouldn’t reveal his personal life to a person he’d had to investigate regarding a crime.

A corner of my bedspread was flipped back on itself, and as he walked to the door, the detective absently brushed it flat.

I sucked in a harsh breath, and Devereaux glanced up.

He’d just touched my bed.

I wasn’t near it, maybe, or undressed, but excitement tied my insides in a series of knots.

A man touched my bed.

“Cerys?”

I couldn’t help my wide grin. “Just thinking about stuff. It’s a lot. With, uh, that person following me.”

And apparently, that gave me cause to grin like a maniac.

His brows drew together. “Is there anyone who could walk you home?”

I hummed. “I could ask Austin. He lives down Nox Street a way.”

Devereaux pressed his lips together. “That’s expensive real estate.”

Was he displeased with Austin or where Austin lived? I couldn’t tell. “Family money.”

A shadow flickered in his eyes. “I see. If your employee can’t do it, then make sure you get someone else to join you. Just while I look into things.”

I voiced my real concern. “What if they follow me home?” A ground-floor apartment was a hot commodity in Nepos, but now the location made me feel vulnerable. Not that an apartment higher up would last against a hover charm.

He strode to the door. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“Oh?”

“Cerys… do you know what Rodney Gambino does for a living?”

Gambino was his last name? “I have no idea.”

But I’d wanted to know since moving in.

The detective paused in the doorway and glanced back. “He’s high up in the poltergeist mafia. Big-time guy. You won’t have any trouble here, trust me. And if you do, I have no doubt that Gambino has an extensive range of security measures in place. The person following you won’t get a foot in this door. Or through your window.”

Poltergeist mafia? My jaw dropped. There was such a thing?

The detective’s focus lingered on the black heart tattoo left exposed by my spaghetti strap top. “Get some ice on that hip. And maybe empty the soap bars out of your handbag. You may need to run again.”

Hardy ha. But yeah, I had a feeling my hip wouldn’t feel great come morning. “Maybe I should put more soap bars in if someone’s after me. I could use it as a weapon.”

His lips curved, and my breath hitched.

Focus on unattractive things.

Bad breath, lint in belly hair, dirty fingernails—Mars alive, this had to be what it was like for guys trying not to orgasm before their partners.

“Night, Cerys.” The detective’s gaze bored into mine.

I started to close the door before the curse took matters into its own hands for the second time today. “Goodnight, Devereaux.”

16

Soleil slapped a newspaper down in front of me.

“Ha!” she exploded.

“Ha?” I read the headline.

This Much Love Should Be Criminal

I hummed. “Catchy.”

“Thanks.”

Skimming through the article, I noted the paragraphs about the new and improved security measures at Yearning Hearts and the line commending our quaint storefront. “Your guy put this together quick. Think it will work?” Our waiting list had halved. Pretty sure Soleil cried herself to sleep last night.

“Yes, and I’m pleased to say that we’ve recovered a week of clients already.”

I nudged her. “You may be good at what you do, friend.”

“Sure am. Hope my family chokes on it.”

Yikes. “Want me to probe and see if they’ve read it when I visit them tonight?”

Her smirk slipped away. “Absolutely not. Just get in and get out, Cerys. Don’t poke the sphinx. Seriously.”

“I won’t. But nothing’s going to happen except for me and Devereaux hopefully finding some info.”

She didn’t seem convinced. “As Detective Dev is well aware, it’s less about what my family may tell you than what other rich families will tell you once they see the detective on my family’s estate.”

I frowned. “Really?”

“Really. They’re that sad.”

The bell chimed as my last client of the day entered.

I faced the client. “Niera?”

The beautiful maiden smiled, and it was as though she’d looked into my soul before doing so. The room seemed to brighten just for her being here.

And this was why everyone loved maidens. Charities were beautiful, yes, but there was an entitlement to their grace and charm that maidens didn’t possess.

“Cerys,” she cooed in a melodious voice as beautiful as her dark skin and raven hair.

“That’s me. Please, come in and sit down.”

With an elegance I would never possess—seriously, I used to try to copy my mother when young—the maiden sat opposite me while I pulled up her questionnaire.

“It’s not every day we get maidens in here.” I smiled at her.

“This is because I am an oddity. My true love has not appeared, Cerys, and I grow more saddened with each passing day that I shall reach my last breath without him.”

Tears literally stung my eyes. She was just so dang sad and beautiful. “My mother was a maiden. I know how hard it is for your type to be without their other half.”

Her violet eyes welled. “Yes.” She blinked several times, sniffing delicately. “You are a cupid who also had a maiden for a mother then?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Dad was a cupid.” Untrue but shouting out that he was a heart elemental was unwise.

“Your parents were both of Venus’s line.” Her expression grew serious. “You must have much of her power.” While I scrambled for something to say, the maiden added, “You know, it is said that the gods merely released their power across Earth while they re-entered the womb to slumber. That centuries will pass as their power is diluted amongst many descendants, but in the centuries that follow, their power will begin to gather again within certain types, making ready for their eventual rebirth.”

Really? My brows rose. “I’ve never heard that.”

She dipped her head. “My mother loved to speak of such things.”

Perhaps my mother did too. I couldn’t recall.

I held up the maiden’s questionnaire. “Well, I don’t know about that, but you’re in a unique position, Niera. Usually, I make love matches between those registered in our system—or keep people in our system until a great love match comes knocking. However, nothing less than a true love match will do for you. I ran you through the system, and it didn’t yield the result you’re after.”

Her eyes welled.

I hurried on before she broke my heart. “I’d like to try something different with you. Something I really hope will give you the result you’re after.”

“What is it?” she breathed. “I’ll do anything.”

How to put this. “Have you heard of Cinderella before? It’s a human story.”

“Is it the one about the baby deer?”

I shook my head. “It’s a story about a young woman who loses her glass slipper after a party. A prince who fell in love with her at the party then makes everyone in his father’s kingdom try on the glass slipper to find the woman again.”

The maiden tilted her head, displaying the elegant lines of her neck. “No one had the same size feet as this woman?”

“I guess not.”

The slight frown cleared from Niera’s forehead. “How unusual. But that is a lucky thing for the prince’s sake. Why didn’t this young woman simply tell him who she was?”

I considered that one. “Oh, her stepmother was mean and she couldn’t for some reason.”

“What’s a stepmother?”

All right. We were getting off-topic. “It’s a human thing. What I’m saying is that I’d like to take this Cinderella concept and use it to find your true love. My idea is that we publicize your journey everywhere for the next week—in the paper, flyers in restaurants, over the radio, and to our clientele as well. We want everyone to hear about this. Because—” I paused for dramatic effect. “—you’re going to be our Cinderella.”

“I’ll try on a slipper?” she asked in confusion. “I have the same shoe size as my sister and mother.”

I bit back a groan. “We’re going to set up in Juno Park and get all the men in Nepos who want to see if they’re your true love come to you. You’re going to try on the metaphorical shoe.”

Niera’s eyes widened. “The metaphorical shoe! Do you think he’ll come?”

“I can’t guarantee anything, but we need sheer volume in your case, so something like this is our best bet. We’d like to call the event ‘Capture the Maiden.’”

Soleil joined us. “We’ll need to clear the event with council if you want to go ahead, Niera. You’ll need a large area to do your maiden thing if he arrives. And this event won’t follow the usual subscription structure for payment. But we can discuss—”

“I want to do it.” Now that Niera had wrapped her head about the Cinderella-shoe size thing, excitement coated her face. The maiden clapped her hands together, tucking them under her chin. “Oh, I love it. What a brilliant idea! Must we wait a full week?”

This was going to be so much fun. “We need to get the word out, remember? If you’re certain about this, then Soleil and I are totally, totally in. We’ll draw up some posters and flyers in the next few days and get the word out, plus include you in the top spot on our Thursday newsletter.”

Not only would this idea hopefully get a maiden captured, but if we pulled it off, we’d get rid of the last smear on our reputation from the break-in too.

Niera joined Soleil at her desk, and I listened in while making ready for my meet-up with Devereaux. I had no idea what to expect from tonight, and there was this weird element of not wanting to dress up for the Hucses while also not wanting to look like a slob around the detective. The result was black leather tights, high-heel boots, a cream-colored knit sweater with a tan leather bomber jacket over the top.

“I’m intelligent and don’t have time for bullshit.” Soleil eyed my outfit when Niera had bounced out of our door.

I twirled. “You think?”

“Very much. So, things have been crazy—”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

She didn’t even crack a smile. “Never. Makes me sick to think about it. I put out feelers for a genie or a powerful demon after your meeting with Yessa, then completely forgot I’d done so with everything going on. But someone got back while you were with Niera just now.”

What. “Seriously?”

She returned to her desk and passed over a note. “There’s a rumor of a genie’s sanctum close by.”

“Where?” I snatched the piece of paper.

“You know that tiny coffee shop on Nox with the pink tassels?”

My mouth bobbed. “The one I walk past twice every day?”

“Word is that a genie is set up in the back. My guy’s friend didn’t know how to get in or if there was any truth to the rumor. But might be worth investigating?”

I didn’t have enough money for a genie. Not even close. But… “Absolutely.”

My friend winked and sat at her desk.

Watching her closely, I perched on the corner of it. “How about you, Sol? How are things with the hunt for your three feathers going?”

Sol grabbed a notebook from her top drawer, opening it at random. “The last clue from that fire mage turned out to be bogus.”

A siren’s feathers were the source of their power. Losing too many feathers had driven sirens mad in the past. When Sol plucked three from her wings to pay for her half of the office deposit, she’d literally weakened herself and now existed apart from those tiny pieces of herself.

The draw of the golden feathers to other types was that it rendered the possessor extremely attractive to anyone they met. Their words enraptured those they spoke to, and so they were far more likely to get their partner of choice into the bedroom. Or really, they’d have a better chance of getting anything they wished. The whole thing was creepy as hell, and that alone was enough drive for me to help Soleil find her feathers again, even without her being my best friend.

Being a cupid and cursed to never know love made me incomplete.

Being a siren apart from three of her feathers made Soleil incomplete.

In her quest to relocate them, Soleil faced the opposite problem to me. She had too much information to sift through. Everyone was certain they’d encountered someone who’d seduced them too easily—especially those who’d been unfaithful and were looking for an exit clause.

“I’m going to follow up this person’s tip next.” Soleil flicked to the back of her notebook. She straightened and thumbed through the pages. “Where is it? There was a folded white note in here.” She ran through the pages again, then checked her desk drawer. “It’s gone.”

“What was it?” I asked.

“A note with a woman’s details on it—a forest nymph I met a few months back.”

I walked around to search her drawer. “You’re sure it was in there?”

“Without a doubt.” Soleil looked up at me. “You don’t think the person who broke in took it, do you?”

“Why would they?”

“Because it was Fenton, who works for my parents, and they could know where one of my feathers is. They knew that clue was legit!” Her eyes widened.

I considered that. I mean, possibly, but that all seemed too tidy. “You think?”

“Who else would take it?”

Hmm. “Are any other tips missing?”

Frantically, she whisked through the notebook anew. “Not that I can tell. You know how careful I am about keeping count of them. I had twenty-nine tips. Now there are twenty-eight.” Soleil shot to her feet, grabbing my hands. “Cerys, it means something. I know it.”

“All right. All right. What are we going to do about it? Do you remember the forest nymph’s name and number?”

Her smile faded. “No. Lawah something or other. I met her at Paganries, but she said the charms were half-rate and she wouldn’t be back.”

“Didn’t say where she was from?”

Soleil shook her head, pacing.

“We could go around the other charm stores.” Of which there were tons.

“Yes! Great idea. Hey, do you think you could mention it to Devereaux? If it was my family, then they’d have the note, right? That’s evidence of the break-in.”

True. “Sure thing. In the meantime, make sure you check at home and in whatever handbag you last used.” Unlike me, her choice of handbag changed like the wind.

She hugged me, jumping a little. “I will, but please make sure you don’t forget to ask him.”

I hugged her tight. “You know I won’t. Promise.”

“Let’s go then.” She began ushering me out of the door, shoving my tote in my hand.

“Huh?”

“To see the genie.”

My mouth dried. “What, now?”

“Is there a better time?”

“I’ve got to meet Devereaux.”

“Yeah, in two hours.”

But… I didn’t feel prepared. A lot hung on any of my curse meetings, and I…

I blew out a breath. In reality, I’d spend a night tossing and turning and just go with my gut anyway. “Guess now is as good a time as any.”

“Exactly.”

Hoisting my tote onto my shoulder, I waited as Soleil locked the door to Yearning Hearts, whispering, “Just try it, fucker,” to activate our new security charms.

She then linked her arm through mine. “Come on. Let’s go get your curse unmade.”

Usually I felt at least a spark of hope. This just seemed like a fool’s errand. “We can try at least.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Time to see a genie about a wish.

17

At the very back of the coffee shop, I sipped at my amazing triple-shot long black next to Soleil, who sipped on a mocha with extra chocolate syrup.

Pink Tassels Café was covered in, well, pink tassels. Walls, ceiling, tables. Only the floor was free of them, and I imagined they had to do that to gain a health and safety certificate from the council.

Had to respect when people knew exactly what they wanted in life.

The winged harpy of this establishment was such a person.

She also seemed to know exactly why we were sitting as close to the back door as possible in her coffee shop. An hour here, and we hadn’t had a single chance to slip through to where the genie’s sanctum was rumored to be.

“I’ll need to leave soon,” I whispered over the rim of my tiny cup.

The harpy shot me a suspicious look.

Yikes. The last thing I needed right now was a harpy scratch.

Soleil licked froth off her finger. “We need a distraction.”

She’d said the same thing five times already. “Any ideas?”

“Many. They range from lighting a tassel on fire to choking an innocent citizen with one.”

“I’m already in trouble with the law.” We’d tried ordering another coffee and chatting to the owner to divert her attention. The harpy had eyes in the back of her head.

Soleil brightened, setting down her cup. “I’ve got it. Get ready to be slapped.”

“I—” I barely had time to turn my head with her blow.

Not entirely faking pain, I gripped my cheek and gaped at her in shock.

“What does she have that I don’t?” Soleil shouted.

Fuck. Was I meant to do something?

My friend gripped the table, and I just had time to throw myself backward before she overturned it. Scraping chairs and muted screams erupted, and I didn’t need to look to know my friend just went full siren.

Dragging my tote behind me, I crawled for the genie door.

“Where do you think you’re going, cupid?” The shrill question speared through the chaos.

The harpy owner leaped over our overturned table, her fierce talons fair competition for Soleil’s. The woman landed on my tote and the mysterious contents shifted beneath her feet, sending her face-first to the ground.

Ha!

Soleil appeared, shoving the table down on top of the coffee shop owner. “Just as planned. Go!”

She’d planned all that? “Okay, but is she alive?”

“I’m going to devour you both,” the harpy roared from where she’d been pinned.

Soleil winked. “She’s fine. She can roar. Get going.”

Grabbing my tote, I booked it to the back door, ripping it open and diving through. Standing again, I felt my jaw drop at the sheer intensity of my new surroundings—which was saying something considering the pink tasselry I’d just left behind. “Whoa.”

Velvet.

Royal blue velvet. Walls, ceiling, and floor. Another person who knew what they liked in life.

Stepping farther into the room, I peered around what looked like a hotel lobby. A two-seater couch and coffee table occupied the small space to my left, and a large potted plant and magazine stand to my right. Gold elevator doors gleamed on the wall opposite me.

Seemed like there was only one way to go.

Moving to the elevator doors, I looked for the call button.

I frowned. “No button.”

I knew a pitiful amount about genies. As a child, their whole wish-making ability overrode all their other qualities. I did remember the part in the stories about how to make a wish though. In some, the person had to rub their lamp.

Reaching out, I rubbed the elevator doors.

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

I waited.

Nothing.

Other stories mentioned that the wish-seeker had to have a noble cause. I thought about that, then said, “I’d like to see you because there needs to be more love in the world and this curse gives me less time and energy to do that.”

The elevator doors didn’t budge.

Not noble enough?

The only other thing I could think of was the whole password thing. But how in Jupiter’s underthings could I guess that?

Glancing around, I scrunched my nose. “Potted plant. Magazine stand.” Nope. I took a breath. “Blue velvet.”

Ding.

The golden doors parted to reveal a velvet-lined interior. Blue, of course.

“You’re kidding.”

I stared at the open elevator until a muted crash, and shrill shriek from the other room got me moving.

The elevator doors closed behind me, and I backed into the corner as it began to move. I couldn’t see any buttons, but the elevator apparently only had one stop.

Ding.

The doors parted to reveal the genie’s sanctum, and my mouth dried at the expanse of marble and more blue velvet. Five doors led away from the circular lounge space, which seemed to slowly revolve.

My brows shot up as I stepped onto marble.

One of the five doors opened, and a very gorgeous and very naked man entered, drying his long auburn hair with a towel.

“Hi?” I waved, holding my tote bag close.

Screaming, he threw the towel high, catching it again to cover his wares. He pressed a hand to his chest. “You’re in one’s sanctum. What are you doing in one’s sanctum?”

Uh-oh.

“The elevator doors opened when I said the password? I thought that was the genie test or something.”

“The test? What are you, five years old? That’s one’s security system. How did you guess the deactivation phrase?”

“It was kind of obvious.” Sweet Minerva, I’d completely screwed this up. I cleared my throat. “Sorry for the intrusion. Is there a better way—”

“You think one should change one’s password?” He wrapped the towel around his waist, flicking wet hair back off his muscular shoulders.

“How many people have guessed it?”

“You’re the first.”

Also surprising. “You won’t want me knowing it, so I vote to change it.”

He considered that. “One guesses one will. But look, unless you have an appointment token, you’ll need to leave.”

I nodded, memorizing that tidbit. “Fair enough. I just came because my friend dragged me here. Pretty sure you can’t help me.”

The genie straightened. “One can help most people.” He shook his head after a beat. “But you don’t have a token. Fare thee well, cupid.”

Dammit. “Bye. Sorry about this.”

He opened his mouth and closed it.

I paused, glancing at the still-open elevator doors. “Was there something you wanted to say?”

The genie bit his lips, gaze landing on my tattoo. “Since you’re here. One has been curious about this missing cupid business.”

“Sure. It’s so—”

“For free.” He narrowed his eyes. “You must be aware that one’s wishes wouldn’t go for such a low price.”

I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”

“Information and secrets.” He plonked down onto a—what else?—blue velvet sofa and kicked his feet up onto the marble coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. “That is the price that one demands. The superficial, one has much of. One can only have so much marble in one’s life, can’t one?”

My hearing stuttered over all the ones.

Uh… “Yeah, I suppose so. I just expected genies to want riches and gold.”

He scoffed. “You would.”

Information, huh?

Thinking hard, I walked to the sofa opposite him and sat. My tote bag landed with a muted clunk.

He gazed at it.

“For free then,” I told him. “Just this bit though. The cupid’s name was Jaeke. He worked for Pick Up.”

“Fabulous dating agency,” the genie said grandly.

That told me a lot about him. Suddenly I didn’t want to be sitting on his sofa in his revolving lounge room. “Fabulous indeed. Some of my cupid friends were with Jaeke right before he went missing. He was just around the corner from his place, but whoosh, gone.”

The genie’s eyes were round.

“Between you and me,” I leaned forward, “a few of us cupids are wondering if the person digging up heart elemental remains is the one who got Jaeke.”

He searched my face. “You really think so?”

I rested back. “Food for thought, isn’t it? You must have a lot of clients wishing for love, so you probably know how far people will go to find it.”

“One would say half. And thank you for calling them clients. One is in the business of wishes, but people seem to think one lounges about all day doing nothing.”

So far that did seem to be the case.

“Do you have the time on you?” I asked, spotting his gold watch.

“Sure thing. Quarter to eight.”

“Better get going. I need to meet the detective.”

“Oh?” The genie shot up, following me to the elevator. “Is something afoot in Nepos?”

I winked. “Could be. And it involves one of the twelve families and all.”

The genie barred my way. “Now that could get you a wish. One has a lot of clients who’d be interested in information of the kind.”

It could? “What, uh, strength of wish are we talking?”

“What are you after?”

“I want you to unmake a curse put on me by one of the most powerful witches in Nepos.”

He grimaced. “What witch?”

This guy was a class-A gossip. Did I trust him with that?

“All personal information is kept strictly confidential,” the genie told me. “The only information one is free to pass on is that which you tell one for the transaction to occur.”

“I’m just meant to take your word for it?”

He glared at me and gestured at a ring on his finger I hadn’t noticed.

It was a piece of curse jewelry that most my age and above in Nepos would recognize—the rings were big in my early teens. The genie was telling the truth. If he shared what wasn’t freely given, then the curse would choke him.

“The witch was Vera Calzane.”

He choked on spit and erupted into a coughing fit, thumping his chest as tears built in his eyes. “The Vera Calzane? There’s no way one can unmake that with his power. She’s powerful gen-two stuff.”

My shoulders sagged. “Dang. I wasn’t sure how this wish stuff worked.”

He licked his lips. “Maybe there’s something else one can do. There are many ways to go about tackling an obstacle. For instance, one cannot unmake the curse, but another might have such power. You could wish to know who this person is.”

My chest tightened. “You can do that?”

The genie regarded me drily. “One could do that in his sleep.”

My heart beat faster. “I already know a few people who are capable of helping, but they won’t. I’d want a list of all the people who can and will help.”

“What’s your information? Because a list is an expensive wish. Far more expensive than one name.”

Darn. What information did I actually have? That the Hucses maybe paid people to break into Yearning Hearts? And that when a cupid caught wind of it, he mysteriously disappeared?

I couldn’t tell him about the note missing from Soleil’s notebook.

There was the brownie, Mantel, who’d broken the most fundamental law of her type. But… no. That could interfere with whatever the detective had going on, and if she was exiled from her burrow for blabbing, then I couldn’t live with myself.

“One grows bored,” the genie remarked. “Tell me your information. If it warrants a wish from one, then a wish you shall receive. If it does not, the information is not freely given and shall not be spoken.”

Here goes. “Okay, so I work at Yearning Hearts.”

His head snapped my way. “Indeed.”

I lost my train of thought. “Why? Does that mean something to you?”

The genie regarded me. “No one has ever outwitted my golden elevator before, and I believe in fate. I will grant you this boon. The name means naught to me, but much to another.”

My gut flipped. “In a good or bad way?”

He arched a brow. “Would I use an ominous tone for the good option? Pay attention to the little things and you shall succeed in life.”

Uhm, okay.

Was someone after me? Now I wanted to know more about this. I focused. “Someone broke into Yearning Hearts. The suspects are Fenton, owner of Pick Up, and one of his financial backers, which happens to be one of the twelve families, the Hucses.”

The genie sighed. “Is that all?”

“Wait, wait. This is where things get darker. Jaeke, the cupid who’s missing. He worked at Pick Up. I’m going with a detective to visit the Hucses tonight because he thinks there’s something to my theory that Jaeke was taken out to cover up the break-in.”

He seemed mildly impressed. “Yeah, that’s not nearly enough for me to wish a curse-breaking list into existence.”

“What about a single name though?” Please, please, please.

“One can do this, yes. Yet do you not wish to discover who is so interested in you instead? One can do this in place of granting a wish.”

I already knew people were after me. The NBC. And that person who chased me through the park.

The genie had an odd gleam in his eyes. He didn’t seem to want me to pick the wish. Was the danger that bad? Was he trying to give me a hint?

Acute danger on the one hand and a three-year-old curse on the other…

If only I had enough gossip to make two wishes. Yet despite recent events, my life was usually very routine—even with my cursed dates twice a week. I couldn’t be sure that I’d have enough information to ever entice a genie to grant me a wish again.

“One grows very bored.”

“I’m just thinking,” I mumbled.

I had a lawyer to protect me from the NBC. I had Detective Devereaux to call if danger came my way, and the extra soap bars in my tote didn’t pack a big enough wallop. I had Soleil and a community of cupids to keep track of my whereabouts—and Austin was happy to walk me to and from work each day when needed.

Biting my lip, I lifted my chin. “In exchange for the information I’ve given you, please tell me the name of one person who is able to and willing to help unmake the curse cast upon me by Vera Calzane.”

“Nicely worded.” The genie closed his eyes and raised both palms to the height of his belly button. Silver poured from his fingertips, and when he clapped his hands, the silver morphed to a deep, blaring red that then burned away like the edges of parchment.

A slip of smoking paper floated down from the ceiling, and with a glance at the genie—who still had his eyes closed—I snatched it midair.

My stomach churned.

This could be it.

Unfolding the paper, I read the name.

Vera Calzane

My hope deflated like an old balloon. “That’s ridiculous! That’s not the name of someone who can help. That’s the name of the person who cursed me.”

His eyes popped open. “One’s wishes are nonrefundable.”

I rocked back on my heels. Was I just totally duped? “Why are they nonrefundable? Can you even grant wishes?”

The genie turned purple. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

“There’s no way Vera would be willing to unmake my curse.” Three years ago, she’d threatened to curse me a second time if she ever saw my face again.

He folded his arms, and his chest muscles bulged. “It is not one’s problem that you didn’t check one’s test papers before hiring one. If you had, then you would have known the odds of your wish being successfully granted are one in seven.”

My jaw dropped. “This is a con! I want my information back.”

“You possibly got your wish.”

“A one in seven chance, and I know this name is bogus.”

He sneered. “Be more diligent in the future and you will succeed in life.” Holding his towel tight, the genie hurried to another of the five doors.

The door slammed behind him, and a faint click told me he’d locked it too.

Clearly I wasn’t the first disgruntled customer he’d encountered. No wonder finding his sanctum was so easy. His genie magic fucking sucked.

The door clicked again, and the genie popped his head out, shouting, “Marble.”

The elevator doors slid open.

“Asshole!” I hollered.

Click.

“Moron” came the muffled retort.

Fuming, I grabbed my tote and stepped inside the elevator.

Stupid con genie.

And now he knew all about my Hucses-Jaeke break-in theory. Meanwhile, I had the name of the witch who made the curse on me in the first place.

Awesome.

Won that round.

When the elevator opened on the ground level, I rushed out and dragged the couch to block the doors from closing. Try getting out of your sanctum without an elevator, douchebag.

Smirking, I strutted out of the blue velvet room…

… And into utter pandemonium.

I ducked as a teacup narrowly missed my temple. “What the hell?” I covered my head and dodged between an imp wrestling a brownie.

Where was Soleil?

I dived behind an upturned table, then crawled toward the door, dragging my bag behind me. Maybe it’d trip someone up again.

“You!”

Yelping at the shrill shriek, I turned just in time to dodge the Harpy’s slicing talons. I shouted up at her. “He’s a shit genie anyway.”

Her face screwed up. “How dare you.”

Was she one of the harpies who could spit fire balls? Time to leave! Pushing up from the ground, I sprinted for the exit and threw myself, tote and all, out onto Nox Street.

Rolling to a halt on the pavement, I brushed half my hair off my face and stared straight up at Detective Devereaux.

“Hey,” I said casually.

We had to stop meeting like this.

Soleil bent over me, not a single hair out of place. “The good detective was just walking this way from Yearning Hearts. I told him you’d be along in just a jiffy. See, Dev? What’d I tell ya?”

18

The charmed and driverless hire carriage creaked as I rode out to the Hucses’ estate opposite none other than Detective Devereaux—a bit later than our agreed upon time.

Because con genie.

He’d removed his long black coat and rested one muscled forearm on the open windowsill. The berserker looked completely at ease. Meanwhile, all my effort was going into not checking him out to avoid the wheels falling off the carriage or something equally as disastrous.

“A cupid who works alongside a siren at a successful dating agency that was recently broken into,” he recited. “Who goes on two dates each week, mostly at the same restaurant, but seems almost bored with the men opposite her. A cupid who has lived at an apartment building also inhabited by Rodney Gambino for a year yet appears not to have unpacked. A woman who just sprinted out of a genie’s sanctum and whose enemies include Duke of Duke’s Dive, Fenton of Pick Up, the harpy who owns Pink Tassels, and potentially the NBC—and the Hucses through a friendship with the aforementioned siren.”

Ah, shit. He’d put far too much together.

I tried for flippancy. “I see you’ve read my dating profile.”

“That only told me that you love Juno Park, value your friendships, and enjoy the bustle of Nepos.”

I swallowed. “You’ve researched me?”

“So many unanswered questions,” he continued as though I hadn’t spoken. “But the most pressing question would be whether or not you got your wish from the genie.”

Scowling, I muttered, “No.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on the detective’s lips, making me notice his full upper lip all over again. “A good thing. As I understand it, Loga isn’t renowned by any means. One in five odds or something.”

“One in seven. Would’ve been nice to know that before I went in.”

The detective raised a brow. “It would be fair to assume that you had something to do with the multiple assaults and extensive damages to Pink Tassels, correct? The harpy guarding his sanctum doesn’t let anyone through without a token.”

“Definitely would have been good to consult you prior to seeing the genie.”

“Did you have anything to do with the chaos in the coffee shop, Cerys? You’re very good at dodging questions.”

“Thank you.”

He surprised me by grinning at my continued avoidance of his question. “Did Austin walk you to work today?”

I glanced out the window. It was a rare occurrence for me to leave the central business district of Nepos. The properties this way were so large. Who needed this much space? “Soleil grabbed me this morning.”

“Good.”

Good that I walked to work with someone? Or good that person hadn’t been Austin? I got the feeling Devereaux didn’t like the guy.

I tore my focus from the extensive woodlands outside. “Anything in particular that I should know about what we’re going into?”

Devereaux leaned forward, stealing my breath along with my personal space. What was it about carriages and attraction? Sex in this small space wouldn’t even be comfortable, but my brain didn’t really care about that pesky detail. It wanted to—

I screeched my mind to a halt before the walls of the carriage really did fall off.

“You may be good at changing the subject, but I will figure out your secrets,” Devereaux said in a low voice.

A shiver worked up my spine. His voice did things to me at close quarters.

I really, really had to think of something else. “Uh, my secrets aren’t interesting.”

“I highly doubt that, Cerys Concordia. You can consider me very intrigued.”

Heat rose to my cheeks.

Intrigued how? Because boy oh boy, if my situation changed, then I’d be more than happy to entertain that curiosity.

The carriage groaned, and I jumped, jerked away so my back was flattened against the cushions. “So hey, Soleil noticed something missing from her desk.”

“Mmm?” He didn’t seem particularly interested in anything other than watching me.

Carriages and sex.

It was a thing.

Breaths shallow, I forged ahead, telling him—in vague detail—about the missing note.

“A note is easy to misplace.”

“I’m not convinced that it’s related to this case either, but in fairness to Soleil, she never misplaces a thing.”

Devereaux dipped his head, eyes on my lips.

“How did coaching go?” I gasped, sweat beading on my forehead.

That snapped him out of his sexy stare, and I sagged.

Phew.

“Fine. Why do you ask?”

I mimicked his low voice. “A cupid who works alongside a siren. You’re building a profile on me. It’s only fair that I build a profile on you too.”

“Not much to know.”

“My, my, Detective. Aren’t you good at dodging questions?”

A rueful smile graced his mouth. “In my case, it’s true.”

Didn’t believe that for a second. He had a vendetta against the rich families for whatever reason. He coached in Durita—the part of Nepos with the highest crime rates. From his colleague’s comments at the station the other day, I could gather that Devereaux usually worked at night too. “Tell me then. What’s life like for a berserker in Nepos?”

“The same as life for a berserker anywhere, I imagine.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of his sharp tone. “Did I offend you? I just don’t know much about berserkers, is all. Your type keeps to themselves.”

He glanced out the window. “It’s best that way.”

I pursed my lips. “Why?”

The detective seemed to consider his words. “Because it’s easiest to manage our other form around people who know what it’s like.”

Oh. “Is it hard? You manage so well. Not that I’ve ever knowingly met another berserker.”

“Hard?” His face shadowed. “That’s too simple a word for what it is. But yes. It’s hard, Cerys.”

My heart squeezed at his carefully smoothed expression. “Is it very lonely?”

“To be a berserker is to be alone. Not from everyone around you, but always from yourself.”

Alone from himself… “You mean cut off from your other form?”

He nodded, peering out the window.

I did know what that felt like. I had three years’ worth of experience on the matter. “It’s like taking half breaths.” The words popped out before I thought better of them.

The detective glanced back, searching my face as the creaking carriage rolled to a bouncing halt. “Yes. How—”

The crackle of a speaker made both of us jerk apart.

“Detective. Gracing our doorstep yet again. And in a hire carriage.”

I peered around for a camera, spotting one next to a towering gold-gilded gate. That camera couldn’t see into the carriage though. There had to be others around. Perhaps farther down the road?

Devereaux looked to a spot over my shoulder. “Detective Devereaux Vincori and Miss Cerys Concordia, here for questioning regarding the break-in at Yearning Hearts.” To the person watching, he probably appeared bored.

But I saw the stillness of his chest and the sudden tension in his posture.

“As I’ve said no less than seven times already, you will need to confer directly with my master and mistress—” The voice cut off.

Gross. Who called people master and mistress anymore?

Sounded like the Hucses needed a teensy nudge.

“Let’s just go, detective,” I said loudly. “Soleil did say that the Hucses—” I broke off and mumbled incoherently.

The only thing worse than ignoring someone completely was to not hear what that someone said about you.

Devereaux gazed at me, unspeaking.

I withheld my smirk in case a hidden camera could see me.

The voice crackled through the speaker again. “The eldest son of my master and mistress has had an unexpected opening. He will grant you a visitation.”

Visitation? What even was that word? These people were bonkers.

The gates glided inward without a sound.

“I wonder what antirust charm they use,” I quipped.

No answer.

A quick glance at Devereaux showed me his Adam’s apple bobbing. He changed position.

Then changed position again.

Huh. The detective may want to know my secrets, but I’d say we were about even for curiosity levels right now. Whatever he was trying to uncover for work—or whatever personal woe he had against the twelve families—it had to be huge.

The berserker was nervous.

Devereaux caught me staring, but instead of forcing a smile, he took a deep breath. The guy was shook up real bad.

I couldn’t squeeze his hand. And even without the curse, who knew how many dozens of cameras were on us. “You want me to be the good cop or the bad cop? I’m thinking bad cop. What do you think?”

He cocked a brow. “Once again, Miss Concordia. I’m shaking in my boots.”

“Then the Hucses will shake in their Miranda Janeys—and whatever the fancy male shoe equivalent is.”

“I couldn’t tell you,” he replied. But the detective straightened, regaining a laser edge that made me want to peel off my clothes. Because I had a suspicion that if I became the focus of that laser attention, I might combust on the spot.

I, Cerys Concordia, victim of a three-year-and-counting curse, choose combustion by Detective Devereaux’s sex stare as my tragic end.

Our hire carriage drew alongside what I took to be a billionaire’s version of a front door. I couldn’t say that I’d ever seen a triple doorway.

How the heck did it work?

A butler pushed through the middle panel, sending it spinning like a revolving doorway.

I tapped a finger against my lips. “That could be the most ridiculous thing I’ve seen in my life.”

The butler, nose wrinkling, opened the door of our hire carriage, then stood back, dusting off his white gloves. “If you please.”

It was the guy who’d talked over the speaker before.

Devereaux climbed out first, then extended a hand back for me. Swallowing first, I accepted his help, softly sighing as I categorized the callouses where his fingers met his palm and the unusual heat of his hand around mine.

I quickly slipped my hand from his when my feet touched solid ground.

Black and gold.

That’s what the Hucses’ house was.

The walls were entirely black marble embossed with golden scenes of sirens in the midst of battle. The artwork was beautiful. Or would be if it didn’t show sirens slaughtering other types and standing victoriously atop a pile of their corpses. Superiority was etched in the graceful curves of the siren’s faces, an almost ethereal glow to their bodies in the pieces—a stark contrast to the misshapen and grimy bodies of the other types pictured.

It was a wonder Soleil ever broke free of such a mindset with this crap surrounding her from birth. She was the only Hucs ever to leave these riches behind, but part of me pitied her five younger siblings, who’d all remained. My friend was one in a million, so they’d never stood a chance with this propaganda literally on the walls of their home.

Gross.

“Follow me,” the butler said.

We obeyed and were led through the stupid revolving door and into a lobby around ten times the size of my apartment. Black and gold were still the theme. More gruesome scenes of sirens slaughtering other types. Seriously, no wonder Soleil only wore silver jewelry and never wore dark clothing.

The butler led us up sweeping stairs and into a sitting area with a crystal bar top at one end. I could imagine people in cocktail attire mingling in here with friends they secretly hated.

“Wait here,” the butler demanded.

Was I allowed to sit on the furniture? Or would my poor rub off?

The detective ambled around the space, hands clasped behind his back. My gaze narrowed as I realized it was a very forced version of the predatory prowl he’d exhibited in my apartment. The perimeter check had to be a berserker thing. I’d seen werewolves that came into Yearning Hearts do it too.

He looked out each of the windows, and I crossed to the nearest sofa, the heels of my boots thudding against the marble floor.

I shuddered. Everything was so… immaculate. I couldn’t detect a single speck of dust anywhere. No clutter. No children’s toy lying about—and I knew that some of Soleil’s siblings had young children.

Cold.

Militant.

Ruthless. And designed for everyone who visited to feel those qualities.

“Detective Vincori.”

The calm voice came from behind. I twisted on the sofa to look upon Soleil’s dad. I’d seen him in the papers too many times to count.

Her father walked in measured steps to join me at the sofa, where he peered at me down the length of his nose. “And you must be Cerys Concordia. The cupid.”

“A cupid, yes,” I said brightly. “You must be Soleil’s dad. The siren.”

His brows rose faintly. “Indeed.” Without budging his focus, he added, “Detective, do get on with your questions. I have many important things to do before retiring for the evening.”

I maintained a pleasant expression as I held his challenging gaze. Yeah, you fucker. I know all about you. He was nasty incarnate—used to lash Soleil’s wings together when she went siren to “teach her control.” What a bastard.

The extra sting to Soleil’s decision to leave was her position as the eldest grandchild. With sirens, the eldest child always had the most power. Any children that followed progressively inherited less and less power. Soleil’s youngest sibling was the sixth child, and she’d told me his teeth hadn’t even become fangs.

This guy had to hate my guts.

Devereaux joined me at the sofa. “Mr. Hucs, thank you for your time. We have come, as you know, in regards to the break-in at Yearning Hearts.”

“What, pray tell, is Yearning Hearts?” He sniffed, finally breaking our stare-off.

Oh brother. Like he didn’t know.

Devereaux consulted his notes. “The main competitor of Pick Up. Your family estate is the main financial backer of Pick Up, I believe.”

Mr. Hucs’s brilliant green gaze—so like his daughter’s—flicked to me again. Gauging my reaction?

Yeah, Soleil knows how desperate you are.

The detective lowered his notebook. “You are also the father of the co-owner and co-founder of Yearning Hearts. You expect me to believe you’ve never heard of them?”

The corners of the siren’s mouth curved. “I have no expectations of you whatsoever, Detective Vincori.”

Ouch.

“Then I’m guaranteed to exceed them,” Devereaux returned smoothly. “Where were you between five and six in the morning last Sunday?”

“At a soiree thrown by the Blums.”

Why couldn’t rich people just call a party a party? Though if the Blums—another of the twelve super-rich families—had thrown it, then I was hardly surprised at the fancy term.

Devereaux jotted something in his notebook. “Are you able to prove your alibi, Mr. Hucs?”

The siren’s lips twitched. As much as I didn’t want to compare Soleil to this man, simple genetics were throwing me. Soleil did that lip twitch today right before fake-slapping me and pinning a harpy to the ground with a table.

“You’ll find that not only am I able to prove my alibi but that my entire family has the same alibi and is also able to prove it, berserker.” The siren turned his back on Devereaux and strode to the bar.

A tiny growl slipped between the detective’s teeth, and I peered over to find a piercing blue in place of the usual gray in his eyes. Shitballs. I didn’t know nearly enough about berserkers yet—even after my magi-web search the other day but changing eye color was a bad sign.

I left the couch and approached the siren to divert his attention from the detective. “You’re planning to prove your alibi using your family members, Mr. Hucs? That’s dodgy as hell.”

Facing me after a good long minute, the siren swilled the amber contents of his glass. “What would a cupid know, pray tell?”

I let his dick elitist comment fly over my head. “Perhaps we’d do better to check your alibi with the Blums—since you were at their shindig and all.”

The word “shindig” stuck in his windpipe as intended. Petty, maybe, but baiting the asshole in small ways made me feel better. Plus, Devereaux still wasn’t home.

“Be my guest.” Mr. Hucs looked me up and down. I could only imagine what he’d tell his family after meeting me. Pretty sure I had holes in the knees of my leather tights after crawling through Pink Tassels.

“Tell me, cupid. Why exactly are you here? This mode of interrogation is unprofessional, to say the least.”

What did Soleil say before I left tonight? Don’t poke the sphinx? “When the kind detective mentioned your family’s reluctance in making yourself available for questioning, Soleil mentioned that all it would take was for me to turn up at your doorstep for you to let him in. Your daughter knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. Curiosity sure is a bitch, right?”

Oops. I poked the sphinx.

My bad.

The siren took a sip. “Soleil is no daughter of mine. She has been removed from all inheritance documents.”

“She’ll be happy to know that’s the case. I’ll pass on the great news.”

He gripped his drink tighter.

Devereaux spoke from behind me. “Mr. Hucs, is there anything else you can tell us about the break-in at Yearning Hearts? I’ll take this chance to remind you that failing to tell us anything that could help me solve the case is considered obstruction and punishable by law.”

Mr. Hucs’s cold gaze found Devereaux. “I would not dream of obstructing an officer. I consider it my very duty to inform you that the owner of Pick Up has a past of violent acts. Such an act cost him his incisors. The cupid here has a theory about the disappearance of Jaeke Castro being linked to the break-in, does she not? Perhaps instead of looking at mere business investors, you should look at the person who already has a list of crimes attached to his name.”

I froze.

How the hell did he know about my Jaeke theory?

Glee crept into the siren’s green eyes as he basked in my shocked reaction. “Or better yet, don’t put stock in the theories of such meager types.”

Wow. Meager, huh?

Well, great for me if he thought that. My happiness didn’t depend on his opinion, but my safety could depend on his ignorance.

“Interesting that you chose to back Pick Up knowing Fenton’s past,” Devereaux replied.

Darting a look back, I saw his gray eyes were in the driver’s seat again.

The siren smiled, showing slightly pointed teeth. “Maybe I believe in second chances.”

“Yet you disowned your daughter for less. Your inconsistency concerns me, Mr. Hucs. A summons will be sent for all senior members of your family to attend the station and provide a statement. As Miss Concordia suggested, your alibi will be cross-checked via other guests at the party you attended last Sunday. I will also explore any connection between the break-in at Yearning Hearts and the disappearance of Jaeke Castro in full.”

“I rest safer knowing you are out there solving this heinous crime.” Mr. Hucs approached us. “My, my, but you do look like your father, Detective. Whatever happened to him?”

A silence passed that was nothing like the awkward silences in my cursed dates. This silence made me shake inside.

“He was put down,” Devereaux said in a tone too steady to be believable.

Mr. Hucs sneered. “The last rhage too. Such a shame.”

The detective’s father was a rhage? Whoa. They didn’t exist anymore. For obvious reasons. From what I understood after my search, with careful practice, berserkers could embrace their other side to varying degrees to access the perks of their type. Generation one of the Mars line hadn’t possessed that luxury. Once they’d gone full-blown rhage, they could never come back. From what I knew, most of them had needed to be controlled with sedation during their youth. But when their bodies grew strong enough to override the sedatives… well, they hadn’t been a type with a long life expectancy.

“A shame. Yes,” Devereaux answered, and this time I couldn’t figure anything from his tone. “But it is almost an expected end for our line to meet that demise.”

“I doubt anyone was surprised then,” Mr. Hucs said, cruelty painted across his high-boned features.

How fucking mean could a person be? This was someone’s father we were talking about. Having lost my own, I knew it was a blow a person never really recovered from.

“They could only be less surprised by a siren losing control, wouldn’t you say?” I smiled extra brightly as Mr. Hucs whipped to look my way.

Ignoring the seething rage I’d inspired in him, I glanced over my shoulder. “Anything else you need to ask, Detective?”

The sliver of blue drained away as he looked at me.

“No,” he grunted. “We’re done.”

Devereaux turned on his heel, stalking out, and I followed him at a slower pace. He might need a second to absorb the verbal blows he’d just endured.

Soleil’s dad was a total dick.

Mr. Hucs’s cold voice trailed after me. “Weak control, that berserker. What a shame it would be for him to end up like his father.”

Devereaux’s control seemed just fine to me. Perhaps not around this dickwad, but those comments would be hard for anyone to take sitting down. I wouldn’t have blamed the detective for throwing a few punches and could only respect that he hadn’t.

But the true meaning of the siren’s words wasn’t lost on me.

He’d just threatened Devereaux.

Fire burned through me as my temper flared in truth. I met his empty gaze and wondered how on earth he half-made a child so very beautiful inside and out. “It would be a greater shame for Soleil to end up like her father, I think.”

That earned me a glimpse of talon.

“Tsk, tsk. Look at those talons,” I murmured, looking him up and down. “I’m not sure you should be an authority on weak control, Mr. Hucs.” I mock curtsied. “Good day.”

19

As soon as the gold-gilded gates of the Hucses’ estate were a dot in the distance, I opened my mouth only to have Devereaux press his sexy hand over my lips.

Yes, to this romance-deprived cupid, his hands were hotter than a loaf of bread fresh out of the oven.

Gaze holding mine, he reached into his pocket and drew out a charm wrapped in dried chamomile flowers.

Whispering a word against it, the charm then disintegrated, and the detective uncovered my mouth. “It’s safe to talk now. I expect they placed an eavesdropping charm on the carriage while we were inside.”

“Mr. Hucs was…” I blew out a breath. “Soleil was right. They’re next level.”

“You did well in there.”

I scrunched my nose. “I don’t know. I feel slimy after that place somehow.”

Devereaux nodded, gaze distant.

“Are you all right, Detective? He said some shitty things about your father in there. And, well, I noticed that your eyes changed color.”

“We’ve been soaked by sprinklers together. Call me Devereaux. Or Dev, if you prefer.”

I bit back a shy smile. “Sure. Dev.”

He grinned, but it faded away. “The eyes of a berserker change with our heart rate. There’s a lot of tether between that and us going berserk. You weren’t in danger.”

“I wasn’t worried about that at all. I just assumed it meant his words got to you on some level.” I stared at my hands. “I lost my father at ten years old, so I know how it feels.”

One day eleven years ago, a demon decided he was sick of waiting for love to find him. He’d drained my father to find it at last.

“Your father was a heart elemental,” the detective said quietly.

I stilled, and my heart erupted into a frantic staccato.

He added, “I followed up on the grave-digging crimes you mentioned. Your father’s plaque was close to one of the exhumed graves in the heart elemental burial lot. Charles Concordia.”

A plaque I’d purposefully let overgrow as much as it hurt my soul. The detective didn’t just happen upon it. He’d gone searching.

This was bad. What should I say?

A cupid with a heart elemental for a father was definitely far more powerful than she let on. “I… my mother—”

He leaned forward and took my cold hands in his. “You don’t need to say anything. And you can be assured that nothing on this subject will ever be repeated.”

After twenty-one years, someone had finally uncovered the truth. I couldn’t do anything but freeze up like a mermaid caught in floodlights.

Very slowly and very deliberately, Devereaux let go of my hands and reached forward. His gray eyes briefly flicked to mine before he rubbed a finger against my black heart tattoo.

Pulling away, he frowned at the black smear on his finger.

“Oh…” He blinked a few times. “I thought…”

I licked my lips, voice hoarse. “As I said, my mother’s line diluted my power a lot. My parents would have been disappointed in my lack of magic if it hadn’t meant a safer life for me. But I still don’t go shouting the truth about my father’s type around Nepos. People get desperate enough to try anything, and it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

The detective appeared stunned at the discovery my tattoo wasn’t real. If only he’d rubbed at the mark a little harder.

“Of course.” He sat back, shaking his head. “Your secret is safe with me.”

My heart was still racing. “Before you sidetracked me, I was going to say that I’m really sorry to hear about your father. No matter how expected his end as a rhage may have been, that almost makes the loss crueler. I hope your family has recovered as much as a family can after losing a loved one.”

He clenched his jaw but said, “Thank you. What little we’ve recovered has been slow and hard-earned.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” If I could lessen his pain, then I would.

The errant thought struck me dumb.

And a realization hit me with the stinging suddenness of Soleil’s fake slap.

I cared about Detective Devereaux. I was getting in too deep. Far, far too deep. I truly liked him—more than I could admit to myself without disaster probably striking.

He was someone I could really date. Someone the curse could absolutely ruin things with for me.

Shit. I knew better than to let this happen. Lately, I’d just felt so dejected about the damn curse.

But it was time to rectify that lapse.

Gathering myself, I rested as far back as possible on the bench seat, crossing my legs at the knee. I banished all whispering sweet nothings of him from my mind—after three years, I was rather good at doing such a thing. Devereaux didn’t seem to notice the change, but this had to be our new norm.

The twisted part about it all? I was doing it to preserve a potential future with him.

One that could happen after my curse was unmade.

“How did Mr. Hucs come to know about your theory?” Dev asked.

Ah. That.

I flushed. “The genie—I think. That’s the information I sold to get my wish.” Loga was the only person I could fathom who would let it slip. Otherwise, the detective and Soleil were the only two people I’d told. “Selling the info was a crappy thing to do. I’m sorry.”

Despite the distance I’d just renewed, my heart sank at his plain disappointment.

“Cerys, it’s very important I know whether or not you also sold information on the brownie you saw with me.”

“I didn’t. I swear. She’d be cast out for betraying her family. I’d never do that to a person.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

Too late, I saw my slip. Oops.

“You frequently put together far more than I realize,” he muttered.

“Ditto,” I replied.

The lanterns outside our hire carriage flared into existence, a charm that reacted to the dying light, and a comfortable silence filled the carriage. I felt myself relax, noticing the lanterns dotting another carriage flare to life in the distance.

Someone visiting the Hucses? Because believe it or not, we were still on their driveway.

Devereaux broke the quiet. “Must’ve been some wish you made.”

A second passed as I remembered what we’d been discussing. “If Loga wasn’t sub-par, then yes, it would have been.”

Our hire carriage pulled aside so the other, much fancier, carriage could pass. As the vehicle eased by, I read the bronze words on the side.

Nepos Notice.

The lanterns flared brightly, and I couldn’t make out the person inside.

“Gug G. Gregaggog,” Dev said when our carriage resumed its lurching roll.

I frowned. “What did you say?”

“Gug G. Gregaggog.”

“That’s a lot of G’s,” I whispered, mind whirring.

“What’s wrong?”

I frowned. “Do you ever feel like everything is connected somehow?”

That was the reporter who’d badmouthed Yearning Hearts in the paper. Clearly, the guy was in the Hucses’ pocket. So had Soleil’s family just seized an opportunity to drag our business through the mud after the break-in? Or were they behind the break-in? If it wasn’t them or Fenton, then who the hell would go out of their way to get inside Yearning Hearts only to steal the computers?

Because to my way of thinking, a person who only took the computers wanted something on those computers.

It just didn’t make sense, and something itched under my skin.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask.” Devereaux broke the quiet again.

It took me a beat to shift my thoughts again. “What’s that?”

“Aren’t you curious to know who the other two financial backers of Pick Up are?”

I lifted a shoulder. “Should I be?”

“The Ventrams and Dethnels.”

Two more of the twelve families. “They only invested in Pick Up because the Hucses did, right? They all spy on each other, Soleil says. That’s why I figure your problem isn’t necessarily with the Hucses. You just wanted an ‘in’ to any of the twelve families because—”

“Once you’re in, you’re in.” He finished my sentence, his face cast in shadows now. “Putting it all together yet again, Cerys. Perhaps you’re in the wrong job.”

“Trust me, I’m in the perfect job.”

“I agree. It makes you very happy.”

I brushed my long hair back. “What about your job? Does it make you happy too?”

“Happy.” He tested the word. “I hope it will.”

“How long have you been in the job? Isn’t that something you already know?"

“From nineteen. Eight years. And no.” He added, “Not yet.”

The guy just went and got more mysterious on me.

Devereaux rubbed his thumb against the side of his jaw as he watched me, then cursed softly. “Cerys, this is unprofessional considering that I’m still working on the break-in case, and I hope me saying this doesn’t make you uncomfortable in any way, but I assure you that my future work won’t be affected by your answer.”

Sweet Minerva, the detective was going to ask me on a date.

I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t been asked out face-to-face since pre-curse days.

Wait! This couldn’t happen yet.

I had a curse to break.

But it was too late…

“I find you easy to talk to,” he said low. “And you’re sexy as sin. If you’re free sometime, I’d love to take you out for dinner.”

My thundering heart thudded to my heeled boots.

I wanted to say yes.

My chest tightened to the point of pain. I wanted to say yes so damn bad.

What if… I just did? I could damn the consequences or figure out some way around them.

With a deep boom, the curtains on the windows erupted into flame. Hissing and roaring, the fire spread, coating the door and licking the material top of the hire carriage.

“Must’ve caught from the lantern,” Devereaux hissed.

Nope.

That was all me.

But fire was a definite first.

Not cool.

Having learned that time was of the essence in situations such as this, I launched from my bench and kicked the fiery door open. “Come on!”

Dragging the detective with me, I leaped from the carriage inferno into darkness.

20

I logged into my computer with one hand, my other hand busy shoving the last of my best-taste bagel into my gob. The bagel took on the exact taste a person wanted. Mine tasted like avocado and chocolate.

A seriously underrated combination.

“… And then he ravished you, ripping apart your corset and breaking the curse with his bulging biceps,” Soleil said dramatically.

Catching her up on the events of last night had taken all morning between clients. “Not quite. We landed in a pond, crashing the birthday party of a water guardian. Then Devereaux used his beeper to get another hire carriage sent out.”

“Don’t ruin my vision. Did you tell him yes or no on the dating front?”

I squinted at my computer, opening our dating software.

“Cerys Concordia, don’t you ignore me.”

“Ugh, okay. I never answered him.”

Her jaw dropped. “No way.”

“Way.”

“That’s so awkward, Cerys. You’ve never left anyone hanging before.”

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “I know. But the moment passed, and then I decided the carriage setting on fire was a good thing. Nothing can happen with him anyway. Yet. So I just… didn’t answer.”

My friend stuffed a chocolate muffin into her mouth. Where did those calories go? “You can’t not date people you like because of the curse.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m going to do that. It’s crappy enough never getting anywhere with people I’m incompatible with.”

“Yes, but you can’t live like that.”

No.

Nuh-uh.

I refused to let the curse take away people I may have a real future with. “Sol, the carriage lit up. Big time. Like, if I wasn’t a badass, and if Dev also wasn’t a badass, then we could have been seriously injured or dead.”

She paled. “Please don’t talk about your death. That’s guaranteed nightmare material.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m just saying that, yes, it would be fucking hard for something with Dev to not work out when I was emotionally invested, but there are the real and dangerous consequences of the curse to consider too. It’s bad enough when my curse dates get hurt with me knowingly putting them in those situations. I’d hate for something to happen to Devereaux.”

“Right. Yeah, I guess it’s not that simple. I just want you to be happy now.”

“Me too.”

“What will you tell him then?”

“Just hope he never brings it up again?” I offered weakly.

“Doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who won’t bring it up the very next time he sees you.”

I slumped. “Tell me about it. The thing is, he’s seen me on dates recently, which voids the ‘I’m being single for now’ line. And he’s seen me hating those dates too. What possible reason could I give?”

She chewed. “Okay, just throwing this out there. What about the truth?”

“I thought about it. I don’t want to go there yet. There’s a connection between us, but I’ve only known him for a few weeks. Our clients speak all the time about previous relationships ending and going sour. How can I say with certainty that he’s the type of person who would never betray me? News about my curse would get around fast, and I need people to date me to loosen the damn thing. Plus, I can’t say with surety what rumors of that kind would do to our Yearning Hearts rep.”

“True. Shit can get nasty as hell,” she said around another bite.

I kicked my feet up on my desk. “Did you check your handbags last night for the note with the forest nymph’s details?”

Soleil grunted. “Not yet. But hey, at 4:00 a.m. I was thinking about that wish the genie granted you.”

“Why were you up at 4:00 a.m.?”

She arched a single red brow.

“On a school night too,” I teased.

“Why not carpe noctem and carpe diem?” Soleil grinned. “Anyway, I was thinking about that name the con genie voodooed into existence. Why not Vera Calzane? Have you ever tried to contact her?”

“Because she said she’d curse me a second time if she saw my face again.”

“Yeah, but what if she didn’t see your face? Why not send a letter?”

I considered that. “I don’t think it would help.” Broken hearts never truly mended, and hers had broken well and good.

“What have you got to lose?” Soleil pressed.

If I didn’t figure this out? Kissing Devereaux Vincori’s mouth. “Point taken.” And with her name, finding the address of her coven would be easy.

“Right. Good. Do it. But it’s time to stop talking about yourself for five seconds. I need to show you these posters for our Capture the Maiden event.”

Rolling my eyes, I took the mock-up from her. The shiny pearl color of the paper reflected blues, pinks, and purples when tilted to each side. Very fitting for a maiden. “Pretty paper.”

“I know.”

I ran my fingers through tokens hanging from the bottom.

“Your con genie run-in gave me the idea,” she said. “To have a go at capturing the maiden, people will need a token.”

“Won’t that limit our numbers?” There were only ten tokens attached to this poster. There would be copies made of this, but still. We wanted hundreds in attendance.

“Sweet summer child, no. If I open a cookie store for one hour on a Thursday only, would you make sure you’re in the line to get one?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “If you have chocolate cookies with avocado on them, then yeah, sure.”

“That’s… no. My point is people can’t resist exclusivity. Everyone will be after a token. Everyone who didn’t get one will want to watch. Then, on the day, we generously hand out tokens to anyone who signs up to Yearning Hearts.”

Lowering the poster, I looked at my friend. She’d joked all the way through my recount of her father this morning, but dark thoughts had to be percolating in her mind today. Yet she just got on with things. “You’re kind of brilliant at this. And I love you.”

Soleil placed a hand on her hip. “You do your cupid thing, and I’ll do my marketing thing, and we’ll conquer the universe.”

“Seems like there should be a few more steps on the way to universe domination.”

She darted a look at her silver watch. “Better read through the press release. You’ve got that radio interview in an hour. Austin will be here soon to take the poster to the print shop, by the way.”

Dang. “Forgot about that.” I’d been looking forward to seeing another client after successfully matching my entire morning of Nepos citizens.

“I did offer to do it, but they want ‘the cupid.’ If you think it will bring too much heat to your doorstep, then I’m happy to tell them it’s me or nothing.”

I lifted a shoulder. “Someone is already following me. Don’t see how this will make it worse. And people can learn stuff about me with a simple magi-web search. Plus, this is going to help Yearning Hearts get back on track.” Our waiting list hadn’t made any further ground since Sol’s article in the paper.

She set about making final changes to her posters and pamphlets while I read through the press release she’d typed for my radio interview.

Austin burst inside. “Brr. It is chilly out there.”

“I hate winter.” I stood and shoved a chunky-knit beanie over my wavey ash-blonde hair.

He stopped short, gaping at me.

I raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Your, uh… hat is nice.”

Soleil snorted. “Your hat is nice. Austin, I know you can compliment a woman better than that.”

He colored. “Not when she’s made it clear there’s no flirting in the workplace.”

I withheld my smile.

Soleil wasn’t as tactful. “Cerys, you’ve scared the flirt out of Austin.”

“Your hat is nice, too, Austin.” I grabbed my tote, straight-faced.

He cracked a rueful grin. “Okay, that was a weak compliment. You look sexy and adorable in that beanie, Cerys.”

“Thanks. You’re heading to the print shop again? I’m going that way too.”

“Don’t suppose you could come in and protect my ass virtue?”

I chuckled. “Sure.”

We set out down Nox Street.

“Hey, are you going good?” he asked as we weaved between the crowd of late lunch-goers. “You seem heavy today.”

Laughter spilled from my lips. “Shit, Austin. You really do need to brush up on your charm?”

He groaned. “Burdened. I meant burdened. The two of you will give me a complex.”

“What makes you think I’m burdened?”

Austin lifted a hand and brushed a finger along the top of my cheekbone. “The shadows under your eyes. Looks like you didn’t sleep last night—and haven’t for a few days.”

The unexpected touch caught me off guard, but I established distance again as smoothly as possible. “I’m finding it hard to relax with the person who followed me still out there. My apartment is ground floor.”

He nodded. “Has the detective made any ground?”

“Not that he’s shared with me.” Possibly because I made things super awkward.

“What’s that?”

“Huh?” I squinted up at him, a sun fairy flying too close to my face and blaring light into my eyes.

He glanced at me. “You were going to say something else.”

Was I? I hadn’t planned to say it out loud. Or to Austin.

“Look,” he said. “I pride myself on figuring out other people’s shit even if I can’t figure out my own.”

Snorting, I considered his offer. “All right, then. The detective asked me on a date. I never gave him an answer. Things are a little awkward there now. I’m not sure what to say, and he isn’t the sort to give up without an answer.”

Austin adjusted his grip on the poster mock-up. “Why are you unsure what to say?”

This could draw too close to my curse. Time for vagueness. “Because my personal life feels like it doesn’t have room for him at the moment, but I still want to date him even though it’s not a great idea.”

“We make room for the right person, don’t we?”

“Did you just grow a gray beard, wise one?”

He grinned. “Told ya. Figuring shit out. Except my own.”

“My turn to be wise then. Where are you at with the betrothed thing?” We stepped aside for a charity and her pram of triplets. Those prams really did take up the entire pavement.

We resumed walking.

“Guess it’s only fair to share.” He blew out a breath and was then silent as his expression shifted. I got the feeling Austin was selecting his words as carefully as I just did. “Last weekend, I told my family that I couldn’t go through with the betrothal. That I wanted more from a partner in life than her last name. That the idea of a cold marriage, where I sought intimacy from other women in secret, filled me with dread.”

I couldn’t speak at first.

For a cupid, that might be the most horrible life imaginable—the only fate worse being that a person would never know any intimacy. “What did they say?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, nothing good. They were understanding, and feel terrible, but they’re as trapped as I am. The betrothal is magically binding. The backlash would fall upon my family, not just me, and I can’t do that to them.”

“Shit, Austin. I’m so sorry. Is there any way to get out of the contract? Have you spoken to your betrothed and her family?”

“My grandmother is going to try. Unfortunately, we have a…” He pulled a face. “…prestigious bloodline that my betrothed’s family has been desperate to mix with for generations. My grandfather made some bad investments way back when, and her family offered to help us in exchange for this betrothal, so we ‘owe’ them so to speak.”

Gross. This was essentially a breeding contract. “I really hope that your grandmother can help them see this isn’t in your interest nor your betrothed’s.” I hesitated. “This might be a super cold suggestion, but what if you donated them sperm?”

He tensed, and I peered at a sudden blue fire dancing around his pupils.

“My type only ever has one child,” he said stiffly.

My mouth dried. Juno’s ambrosia. I knew his type!

Austin was a phoenix.

Though, I’d met phoenixes before… they didn’t usually hide who they were at all. And more to the point, they exhibited orange, yellow, or red flames in their eyes—and around their entire body when they fully let loose.

“I see,” I replied quietly. “That’s a terrible thing to go through, Austin. I don’t have any advice for you, but I hope you know that you can lean on me and Soleil—to talk, or for a distraction, maybe just for a hug.”

His eyes shone with extra moisture. “I might take you up on that. It’s not something I can discuss with my usual circle of friends. Everyone knows everyone, you know?”

“Yeah. Cupids are the same.”

We turned off Nox Street and weaved through some of the smaller lanes.

“Print shop is just around the next—” Mid-sentence, Austin’s eyes rolled back in his head.

I shouted, dropping my tote to lunge and slow his fall, instead landing on top of him.

Rolling off, I crouched for a full second, totally shocked, before I ripped out the red dart lodged in the side of his neck. “What the hell?”

Pounding footsteps.

Shit.

Bursting to my feet, I spun. The air rushed out of me as a body collided with mine. Stunned breathless, a precious instant blinked by as I convinced my legs to kick at the person on top of me.

My heel connected with his upper thigh, just short of its mark.

I wasn’t a trained fighter, and I was more petite than a lot of types, including this huge man dressed in form-fitting dark clothing, so dragging in a breath, I did the smartest thing.

I screamed.

Just to hit two pixies with one stone, I screamed in the guy’s ear. He wrenched back, enough for me to see he had a face blurring charm in place. This had to be the guy who’d chased me through Juno Park.

Slap.

My head rocked left with vicious force as his massive hand connected with my cheek. Sun fairies danced in my eyes, and I blinked a few times and push them away.

I dragged in another breath.

Have to scream.

The man covered my mouth. “You’re coming with me.”

I bit him.

Hard.

Yelling, he let go.

“How the fuck do you think you’re getting me out of here in broad daylight?” I snapped, attempting to punch him in the face.

He grabbed my fist.

Okay, think. Were there other weaknesses to take advantage of? I couldn’t tell his type. Struggling to free my fist from his grip, I looked for any other personal items. He wore less than the bloody detective… aka none at all.

Squeezing my fist, the man held up a tiny cage in the other.

Every drop of blood drained from my face.

A Venus trap.

A cage that those of her line would shrink to fit, and once inside, we could only be removed by another. There was no escape. Easy to hide and carry around, many cupids had spent their last days in such a contraption—including my paternal grandfather.

I screamed so loudly my throat tore.

My previous scream hadn’t held half the fear.

The man pinned my free arm under his knee, then pinched his thumb and forefinger together to open the tiny cage door.

“No.” I gasped as my body constricted, tightening from the middle as I responded to the shrinking magic of the Venus trap.

Tears sprang into my eyes, and I thrashed beneath him. “Help. Help me!”

Blue flames erupted behind the man.

Twisting back, he swore.

My middle tightened as blue flames swelled higher. The cold neon licked the walls of the narrow lane we’d ventured down.

The man with the cage and blurred face looked down at me. “I will have you in here soon, heart elemental,” he whispered harshly.

I couldn’t answer him for the viselike grip the curse of the cage had on my lungs. With every second, I felt my frame become smaller.

My attacker shot into the sky, disappearing from view over the tops of the nearest buildings.

The suctioning feeling on my insides released all at once, but fear had struck me immobile.

I stared at the sky.

“Cerys,” Austin called weakly.

Flopping my head to the right, I watched the blue flames retreat into his body until they’d completely vanished. He’d managed to prop up on one elbow but looked like a drunkard after a month on the booze.

He needed help.

Making it to my knees was a tall order, but I got there and crawled to Austin despite the intense jerking tremors seizing my frame. “Are you okay?”

“Gone?” he slurred.

I’d nearly ended up in a cage. I sobbed, brushing his blond hair back. “Your flames scared him off.”

“Heart elemental,” he whispered, nearly too quiet to hear, before he went limp.

“Fuck,” I muttered. Austin heard the guy.

“Down here!” a tiny voice squeaked from the end of the lane.

More pounding footsteps. A quick glance told me law enforcement had arrived though—nearly too late. My shaking tripled.

I dragged in a breath. Then another.

“Miss, what happened here?” An officer crouched beside me.

“Detective Vincori.” My voice didn’t sound like my own, ripped apart by screams. “Get him.”

“What type are you?”

“Cupid,” I hiccupped, voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m a cupid.”

But someone clearly thought I was more than that.

And that was a definite noose around my neck.

21

To be fair to the Hucses’ snobbery, a siren in all their golden-winged glory was something magnificent to behold. As Soleil stalked into the station, talons and fangs out and wings held slightly out from her body in a manner I’d learned meant my friend was seconds from attacking someone, I was sure that very thought was crossing the minds of the three officers in our company.

“Sol,” I said calmly.

The officers congregated behind me.

Cool. Thanks.

Soleil took in the many scratches and bruises covering me—including the huge purple and blue welt on my left cheek.

Bastard slapped me good and proper.

“What the fuck happened?” she lisped, keeping her distance. Hugs and talons weren’t compatible.

A mussed-looking detective burst into the interrogation room. Sheesh. Impressive. I’d only been here for thirty minutes. Looked like he’d rolled out of bed to race over.

Devereaux took me in, irises flashing a fierce blue before he managed to school them to gray again. “Officers. Thank you. I’ve got this.”

The female werewolf and two males of undiscernible type edged along the room's opposite wall to Soleil and left.

The detective ignored my friend and drew out the seat beside mine. His hands twitched in my direction, but he placed both firmly on his knees. “Tell me what happened, Cerys.”

A lump in my throat, I recounted the horrible moments in the lane.

“Did he have any distinct features?” the detective murmured. He’d started jotting stuff in his notebook halfway through.

“I looked but couldn’t see any. He had a blur charm on. Oh, he flew away.” As every descendant learned in school, only twelve types from gen two and three combined could fly, cutting down numbers significantly. More so if the obvious were cut out from the man’s physical size—poltergeists, pixie types, wraiths, and fairy types.

He murmured, “Could have a flying charm.”

Charms had to be held and activated. I shook my head. “Both of his hands were on the Venus trap at the time.”

Silence.

Soleil hissed.

Devereaux growled.

“It was a close one,” I admitted. Ah, shitballs. My bottom lip trembled all over again.

“I thought those cages were contraband,” my friend snapped, glaring at Devereaux like he’d been the one to sell it to my attacker on the black market. She seemed to realize how ridiculous that sounded in the next breath.

Inhaling deeply, my friend shook her feathers as though drying them, and as she did, they faded from view. Her talons retracted as well until only her fangs remained.

Soleil hugged me, and fat tears welled in my eyes, spilling onto her shoulder left bare by her red strapless dress.

“You’re okay now,” she hushed, probably trying to convince herself as much as me.

I hugged her tight. “I know. Just a bad scare.”

Her exhale shuddered its way out, and a long beat passed before she untangled from my arms. “You will find the culprit.” She turned on the detective. “And if you can’t, then give the job to someone who can.”

I grimaced. “Hey, Sol? Austin is in the infirmary here. He got shot with a dart and was vomiting on the way over. Could you check on him?”

“I don’t care—”

“Austin saved my life.”

She paused. “In that case.”

Once Soleil had left the room, I faced the watchful berserker. “Sorry, she forgets she’s not a billionaire heiress when she’s scared.”

His face didn’t budge from its carved appearance. “You must have been terrified.”

I latched onto the security that his steady gaze offered. “I thought I felt terror at the start, but when he brought out that trap… that was terror.”

“What scared him away?”

“Austin’s type.”

Devereaux’s lips pressed together, but he didn’t pressure me to spill the beans further. “Did the man who assaulted you say anything?”

I hesitated. “That he’d, ‘Have me in the cage soon.’”

His cool focus shifted over my face. “That’s all he said?”

Mostly.

The heart elemental thing just wasn’t true, but if this man’s misunderstanding got out, it could be super damaging. More damaging than what the detective had suspected until recently—that my black heart tattoo was real and I was a powerful cupid.

I wasn’t a heart elemental and that was fact.

The gen twos of my line received their bows at twenty years old, and I definitely didn’t have one.

I diverted my gaze to the brown leather bracelet adorning his left wrist. “Yeah. That’s all he said.”

Devereaux tapped his pen on the table. “He attacked you in broad daylight in the middle of the city.”

“We were in a small lane.”

“Even then. He’s determined and taking bigger risks to get to you. You need to put serious consideration into how you’ll stay safe until I catch him.”

Soleil reentered with Austin in tow, who had an obvious green-tinge to his skin. “I’ll stay with her,” she answered Devereaux. “Forever.”

“What about your…” I glanced at our company, then forged ahead regardless. “…rampant sex life.”

“Pretty sure I can lay off sex for a while, Cerys.”

“What if this person isn’t caught for six weeks?”

For a second, she looked as green as Austin. “We can reassess as we go.”

Sirens were not a type most people wanted to go up against, so... “Fine by me.”

I walked to Austin and hugged his middle. “Thank you so much. I would’ve been a goner without you.”

Putting distance between us again, I peered up at the phoenix. The blue phoenix. I’d never heard of such a variation to his type. Guess the whole breeding betrothal program made more sense now. His family must be one of a kind.

But I had bigger concerns.

Austin heard what the man said—the heart elemental part. Did he remember though? He’d been pretty out of it.

The phoenix gazed down at me, and I could only gather he was doing his best not to puke.

“Any time,” he said. “I should’ve heard him coming up.”

“You can’t always be on your guard.” It wasn’t as though he was my security detail.

Austin averted his glacial gaze. “I should have taken us down the bigger streets. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Hey.” I nearly reached out to touch him again. “Don’t take so much upon yourself. It’s not your responsibility to protect me. And neither of us expected someone to attack in broad daylight.”

He stared over my shoulder at the detective.

Yep. About that.

I felt every inch of Devereaux’s laser focus on us right now. Turning to look back would only make it worse though. “What did the asshole shoot you with?”

Austin lifted a shoulder. “The healer elemental had a big name for the stuff. It hit hard, but the guy clearly didn’t realize my type, or he’d know I burn that stuff off pretty fast. The healer said the average type would be out for an hour or more.” The phoenix peered over my shoulder again.

Uhm, was this becoming a pissing contest? I glanced at an amused Soleil.

It was.

I wasn’t down with that.

Sitting again—because that seemed like neutral territory—I said, “So it’s sorted. Soleil will stay with me. Austin will walk us to and from work.”

“And I’ll assign you a beeper.” Devereaux interrupted.

He regarded Austin without expression, eyes cooler than they’d ever been.

Yikes.

This was more awkward than my nonanswer to his date question.

“Oh?” I asked, more to drag his attention off my employee and to me than from true interest.

“The beeper will be linked to mine.” The berserker shot me a look. “Anytime, Cerys. And anything that raises your instincts. Use it. I’ll be there.”

“I will,” I whispered. That cage and I would not become acquainted. I’d use the beeper without hesitation.

“Please visit the healer before you leave the station too,” he added in a softer tone that made my bottom lip want to tremble for the umpteenth time.

Soleil took my other hand in hers as I stood, plagued by uncertainty. Was Devereaux thinking about the dating thing too?

Heat rose to my cheeks, but Soleil saved the day, tugging me from the interrogation room.

“Mr. Lanaray,” Devereaux called. “I’ll need your statement before you leave.”

Austin, who’d been walking out after us, looked back.

“Right now?” I asked the detective. “He’s not feeling well.”

“Right now” was the cool reply.

“It’s all right, Cerys. I’m feeling better by the second,” Austin said close to my ear.

I pulled back. His color did look far better. But still. “If you’re sure?”

In answer, Austin stepped back into the room, and I shook my head, following Soleil before she succeeded in yanking my arm off.

“Testosterone war,” she remarked.

I died a little. “Devereaux has good hearing.”

My friend smirked, but it faded. “After the healer, we’re going directly home. I’m going to wrap you up like a burrito and spoon feed you.”

“We can still see a few clients this afternoon.”

“Nope. I’m going to cancel them all.”

I pulled her to a stop down the hall. “Sol, I’m okay. I nearly wasn’t, but I am. We know this guy is hardcore now, and we’re going to take precautions. The healer will fix my scrapes in a jiffy, so what I’d really like to do is distract myself doing something I love. I’ve already missed the radio interview today and we had to cancel an entire day not long ago.”

She swallowed and dashed away a tear. My friend just didn’t cry, yet she’d had occasion to cry twice in recent times.

I wrapped an arm around her waist. “Let’s get you a muffin.”

“Mud cake.” She sniffed.

“A mud cake then.”

“And avocado for you to put on it.”

“Of course,” I cooed.

“Or I can heat the cake up in a bowl for ten seconds and put some milk in the bottom just how you like it,” she said pathetically.

I really hoped Devereaux wasn’t listening to this conversation.

We walked down the hall to the healer elemental’s rooms, hip to hip, then pressed against the wall as a bunch of officers burst through the swinging double doors ahead of us.

Each of the four officers held a metal rod. A chain from each of the four tips linked to a collar around the person's neck in their midst.

I covered my mouth.

Fenton!

I exchanged a shocked look with Soleil.

“You can’t do this,” the vampire shouted.

A female vampire was amongst the officers leading him along. “Shut it. You’re going into lock-up until the detective deals with you.”

Detective Devereaux?

Fenton caught sight of us. “You.” His eyes bugged. “You bitches will pay for this.” He turned to the nearest officer—a male werewolf by the looks. “I didn’t break into Yearning Hearts. I’ve been set up!”

The owner of Pick Up yelled all the way down the hall until a heavy door muted his cursing shouts.

Whoa.

Soleil was the first to speak. “One less thing to worry about.”

She pushed into the healer’s room, but I stared after the vampire.

Last night, Mr. Hucs assured us Fenton was the culprit.

Was that the reason I suddenly didn’t believe he’d done it?

22

I closed my eyes and kissed the envelope, hoping against hope that the goodwill of the gods would speed my letter to a very forgiving Vera Calzane.

Austin stopped beside me at the letter zinger. “I’ve only seen you wear that expression when you’re eating chocolate and avocado.”

Soleil only let me walk to the letter zinger alone because the station was within sight of Yearning Hearts. Sure enough, a quick peek confirmed my friend watched from one of the bay windows.

Austin squinted at me. “Correction. I’ve never seen you wear that expression at all.”

“Important letter. Got the posters?”

He held them up in answer.

“Is your butt okay after the print shop?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” he said drily.

It was my turn to look closer. The phoenix had shadows under his bloodshot eyes. “Hey, are you okay? You look heavy.”

He sent a lop-sided smile my way. “I’ve been better.”

“Betrothal stuff?”

“Yeah. Negotiations didn’t work, and now they’re mega-pissed I’m even questioning it.”

I whistled low. “They can’t do anything to you though, right?”

“Not unless I break off the betrothal. But they’re a powerful family. Pissing them off wasn’t the best idea.” He glanced away.

I took the hint and changed the subject. “Look, I wanted you to know that I’m not going to tell anyone what type you are, Austin. Not Soleil or anyone else. It’s your news to tell to whomever you wish.”

The phoenix sobered. “Thanks. My family is on the private side about it. People tend to destroy or idolize rare types.”

My life in one sentence. “They do. Best not to see which fork on the road they decide to take in the first place. But if you ever feel like telling me how your flames are blue, then I’ll admit my curiosity on the matter is next level.”

“I’d be happy to. How about a drink at my apartment on Saturday?” he asked. “I’d say we should go to Tiara’s Touch, but… good ears and all.”

I beamed up at him. “I’d like that.”

Austin checked the street before lowering his voice. “Just so we’re clear, Cerys. What I heard in the alley. That’s not going anywhere either.”

I froze.

He hadn’t been too drugged to forget.

Fuck.

Lips numb, I forced myself to ask, “What did you hear?”

A shadow flickered in his glacial blues, and he pressed his lips together before meeting my gaze again. “About your type.” He mouthed, “Heart elemental.”

My stomach plummeted, and I was certain he saw the devastation painted all over my expression. I seized his wrist in a viselike grip. “I’m not going to talk about forks in the road again, Austin. But you need to be very aware that people chose which direction to take with regards to cupids a long time ago.” I checked for company. The rain had been off and on all morning though, and it was keeping people indoors.

I leaned until only a sliver of space separated us. “I’m not what you think. They receive a bow at age twenty. I never got one. The man who attacked me was misinformed. I’m a cupid, and not a powerful one at that.” I forgave myself for the lie at the end. My life was on the line. I got good vibes from Austin, but he was my employee. He could use this information in any number of ways if Soleil or I pissed him off in the future.

Austin’s eyes widened. He seemed floored. Stunned. “You’re not?”

“Nope. And I need the man who’s chasing and attacking me to know that too. I’m not what he’s after. I have no idea how he got it in his head to begin with. They don’t exist anymore, but he seems convinced I’m more than what I am.”

Excitement lit the phoenix’s face.

I pulled up short. “I’m not sure that I intended that news to excite you.”

Austin sucked in a breath. “Sorry. It’s just that this is great news. We can work with you not being what he thinks you are. It’s just a matter of getting the information to your attacker. Proving it to him somehow.”

Huh. I hadn’t looked at it that way. “Problem being that he’ll assume I’m lying.”

Austin didn’t seem to have a solution for that one. Neither did I.

We walked into Yearning Hearts together soon after. Soleil had left her bay window sentry point and was pretending to have never left her desk.

She’d been like this for the three days since the attack.

Dropping the posters off, Austin hurried out into the weather again.

“He remembered,” I immediately told her.

She grimaced. “Fuck.”

“Yep. Told him it wasn’t true. He believed me, pretty sure.”

She walked to me. “Then that’s as good as we could have hoped. If he decides to share what he knows, then nothing will keep him safe from me. Going to tell me his type yet?”

“Nope. And I’m going for a drink at his place on Saturday night to hear all the details too.”

Soleil didn’t despair at being out of the loop as I’d intended. Her face slackened. “You’re going on a date with Austin?”

That wiped away my smirk. “No… that’s. I’m not.”

“Uhm, yes. You are. A drink at his place. On Saturday night. That’s a date.”

I straightened. “Do you think he thinks it’s a date?”

“The guy’s flustered around you. If he doesn’t think it’s a date, he hopes it’s a date or it will end up a date. Which is pretty much the same thing as believing it was a date to begin with.”

I thumped my head on the desk. “Why me?”

“Because you’re sexy, funny, and sweet. It’s the trifecta.”

I pulled a face. “I am a package deal, I suppose.”

“Ain’t that the truth. But you know what to do in this situation.”

We had a blog on our website about it. That I wrote. So yes. “Establish what it is prior to meeting up.”

She gave me a double thumbs-up. “Stop talking about yourself now. I managed to reschedule the radio interview. On Friday after work. It’ll be done with enough time for you to get ready for a curse date.”

Dang it. “You don’t need my help to get ready for Capture the Maiden?”

“I’ll need you there for set up on Saturday morning, but everything else is done. We have event approval. I’ve hired some vampire kids to whip around with the posters. They’ll be here soon to collect. Pamphlets go out in the mail tomorrow morning. Friday is the radio interview. Between now and Saturday afternoon, people are going to go nuts for those tokens. Someone is going to capture our maiden.”

“If they’re in Nepos,” I said.

“If they’re in Nepos. And if they’re not, then that’s good for our maiden to know too. She’ll need to venture out.”

True. “What’s happening on the speed-dating front? I can’t believe it’s that time again soon. The new venue is set to go?”

We’d started the speed-dating events a few years ago and did two annually. They’d gotten bigger each year, and our usual venue just wouldn’t cut it anymore.

“Heroic Hexameter is letting us use their conference room for a steal—as I’ve told you no less than three times. The hotel owner was arrested for fraud last year, and the new owners are trying to give it a better name.”

Oops. That did ring a bell.

I walked to the kitchenette to make a triple-strength coffee. “Busy couple of weeks for us. Will you need me next Friday?” Please, please, please.

“Nope. Date away.”

Ugh. I’d hoped to get away with no dates for the next couple of weeks.

All these curse trails were making me lazy. First Yessa, then the genie, and now the letter to Vera Calzane. I hadn’t been so unmotivated with organizing dates in two years. Though I’d be lying not to admit that the detective had something to do with that lack of motivation. Maybe even Austin, though I’d only date him for a fun time. With Devereaux, I had a feeling that dating him may lead to something bigger.

I’d only felt that a couple of times in my life.

Grimacing after a sip of shit instant coffee, I returned to my desk and logged into our software. Time to pick Friday night’s victim.

I’d saved a folder of bad matches on my computer. From that pool, I usually allowed myself to pick the one who most attracted me. I still had a curse to break, and zero attraction toward a guy wouldn’t help me loosen it. Plus, odds were that guy wouldn’t find me attractive enough to come home and touch my sheets either.

And the sheets needed to be touched.

Scrolling through profiles, I landed on a muse. Nope. Clingy.

Banshee? Nuh-uh. Learned my lesson on dating that type the hard way. I could take him to a field in case he screamed, but odds were that he’d get freaked out by a kinky offer on the first date.

I stopped on a picture of a werewolf with curly light-brown hair. Cute. He had a pack necklace on. A hammer. Good, I hadn’t dated anyone from that pack yet. I didn’t want any of these guys connecting the dots that all my dates ended in disaster.

Grabbing the phone from Soleil’s desk, I dialed—my eyes darted to check his name—Jackson’s number.

“Hello?” a woman answered.

This happened from time to time. Proceed with caution. “Hi there, I’m looking for Jackson?”

“He’s out right now. Could I take a message for you?”

“Oh right. Who am I speaking with, please?”

“His mother.”

Eek. “Right. I was actually calling to see if Jackson would be interested in going out with me.”

“Oh! I see. You’re a werewolf then?”

I pulled a face. “No, ma’am. I’m a cupid. Don’t worry though, that’s how I know love doesn’t discriminate.”

The line disconnected.

Apparently she discriminated.

Werewolf mother wanted werewolf pups. That type had all kinds of political pack stuff that got in the way of matches with other descendants. Should I call back to tell her that I just wanted her son for a night? Not even all of it.

Smirking, I scrolled through a few more profiles before finding a healer elemental named Billy. Healers could be sensitive and harder than others to get home after one date. If I did manage to get him home, he could get through a few rounds of mishaps with his healing ability.

A risk.

That I’d take.

I dialed.

“You’re speaking with Billy.”

“Billy,” I said brightly. “Hey, I’m Cerys.” Seriously, I had my dating pitch down to a fine art. “Look, I don’t usually do this, but I was matching some clients at work, and I saw your profile on our Yearning Hearts site. I know it’s totally irregular, but I think we could be a great fit and was wondering if you’d like to grab a bite to eat sometime? See if we hit it off.”

Unlike the werewolf’s mother, Billy didn’t hang up. “You’re the cupid. I remember. If anyone can tell if two people are a match, it’d be you, right? Sure, I’m game.”

“You are?” I scratched at the dried coffee stain on my desk. “Oh, great. I was so nervous because I never just call clients like this.”

Over at her desk, Soleil snorted.

I grinned at her.

“Not at all,” the healer elemental answered. “I’m really glad you did.”

“How does Friday night at Tiara’s Touch sound? Say, 7:00 p.m.?”

That sounded just dandy to him.

I hung up, returning the phone to Soleil.

“That gets me every time.” She raised the pitch of her voice. “I never just call clients like this. We’re all just programmed to respond to certain lines, aren’t we?”

“For the most part. Yet when the love is true, any words will do.” Dad used to say that.

“He’s for this Friday then?”

“Yeah. A healer named...” I squinted.

“You’ve forgotten his name already. Why am I surprised? Write his name on the inside of your wrist or something.”

My brows shot up. “That’s not a half-bad idea.”

She shook her head and resumed typing.

I lingered at her desk, cracking my knuckles and fidgeting.

Soleil flicked me a glance. “Everything all right?”

“My magic juju has been unsettled lately.”

“Since when?”

Thinking back, I replied, “The night I went to your family’s estate.”

She stopped typing. “You think they did something to you?”

“Nothing like that.” I rubbed my fingertips together. “It’s just restless. Building up or something. Waiting for work to release is getting harder.”

“Do it again then.”

I eyed the bay windows. “The blinds are open.”

Soleil gave me a flat look, then stood to close the blinds.

“That was pretty easy.” I scratched my chin, then returned to my desk to zap the computer again. I’d never done it twice in one day. Who knew what would happen. My exhale after was long and satisfying though. “That feels so much better.”

“Do whatever you need to.” She opened the blinds once my pink magic had absorbed into the computer. “You need to be in control at Capture the Maiden.”

Sure did, but I had a plan for that. “Hey, did you find that note at all? The forest nymph one?” Soleil hadn’t mentioned searching her handbags, but my friend loved clinging to hope. If I didn’t keep breathing down her neck about this, she’d go on believing the note was stolen with the break-in forever.

“I’ve been staying at your place.”

I folded my arms. “Sol.”

She blew out a breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop there after work and check. But it was taken. I’m telling you.”

Maybe it was. But a simple search would confirm the matter.

“And if we’re speaking about things we’re avoiding.” She started. “Have you heard from Devereaux in the last few days?”

My stomach churned. “No.”

Did my tone scream “I’m secretly sad about it?” Because I was.

Soleil returned to her chair and crossed her long, golden legs. Her Apollo shimmer rippled over her skin. “You think it’s about the nonanswer to him asking you out?”

“I can’t decide if it’s that or maybe the pissing contest with Austin put him off? Or maybe it’s a professional distance thing. Maybe he decided I’m high maintenance.”

“You think you’re high maintenance?”

I paused.

Soleil folded her arms. “You always put the answer you fear right at the end.”

Did I? “Well, I’m a risky bet with… everything. And that’s not to mention the man who wants to cage me.”

“Everyone has shit.” She waved a hand in the air. “A man who loves you won’t blink twice at any of that.”

Pretty sure I’d blink at least three times if a guy had my baggage. One for the curse. One for the magical cupid part. And one for having a madman attacker.

“Plus, he has baggage.” She ticked off her fingers. “He has to control his other form at all times. He’s on a secret mission of some sort. I mean, what do you really know about Devereaux? You seem to have equal maintenance issues to me.”

I sighed. “That’s the thing. The whole point of dating is to find out whether you think a person is worth pursuing. And I can’t date him.” Though I really couldn’t imagine his baggage being heavier than mine.

“My opinion is that if you’re this down in the dumps about not seeing him for a few days, and he’s keeping his distance because he’s uncertain where he stands, then you need to give him an answer—even if it’s no. At least then, you guys can perhaps resume a friendship.”

“I know. You’re right. Next time I see him, that’s what I plan to do.”

My friend pierced me with a look as the bell announced the entry of my first afternoon client. “You know what your answer is?”

My heart sank.

I knew what I wanted my answer to be. Yet that was different from what my answer should be. “No idea.” I blew out a long breath. “No idea at all.”

23

“Cerys?”

At least this one got my name right.

I checked the name written on the inside of my wrist, briefly pondering my hypocrisy on the subject of remembering names, then twisted to face the handsome healer. “Billy?”

“That’s me,” he joked.

I laughed on cue. “It’s lovely to meet you. Busy day at work?”

He sat on the bar seat opposite. I’d sat in my usual spot in Tiara’s. The full moon tonight promised prime street watching. Nepos was at high bustle, the streets bursting with residents out for full moon shopping. I felt it, too, the tidal buzz under my skin.

Billy interlaced his fingers on the bar table. “Busy day, all right. Full moons are always that way.”

I opened my mouth—

“My feet,” he moaned. “I tell you. Even great footwear doesn’t combat hours of standing.”

“Oh, I work sitting—”

“Especially with my disorder.”

… I had a sinking feeling about this one. “What disorder is that?”

“I’ve had it since birth—overlapping toes.”

A healer’s magic could only restore themselves or another person to an original state. Any birth disorders fell into the jurisdiction of witches and wizards who could help with management. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yes.” Billy’s mouth tugged down at the corners. “Managing it isn’t easy. Takes a nightly poultice applied to the foot arch, two-weekly smudge stick inhalations, and blessed tea consumed nasally on an empty stomach each morning.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Of course, that’s the least of my ailments.”

Yep, he was one of these dates.

Groan.

“At three years old, I received a Lingletons diagnosis.”

I covered my mouth. “Oh no.”

“You know what that is?”

Uhm... shit. “That’s where your body gets all… inflamed, right?”

“No, no. You must be thinking of Pyzrk. Lingletons is where you wake up in full-body paralysis. It’s insidious—no certain cause. Us sufferers get a really bad rap. People say we’re making it all up, but it’s a real thing, I tell you! Awareness is better these days at least. A lot of people know someone who knows of someone who’s related to someone with Lingletons now. I just wished everyone realized what it takes to manage this condition. I’m taking an herb bath on Wednesdays, sweat tenting twice a week, forehead tapping before bed each night. And after an episode—”

My attention drifted to the street.

Billy wasn’t my least favorite type of date, but the ones who detailed their entire medical history straight out the gate were high up there. A surprising number of people did it, and I had to wonder if they ever scored a second date.

Maybe two sufferers of Lingletons would find each other.

I smothered a grin as a mother fairy zapped after a ball of light—assumedly her sun fairy child who was making an escape. Cool.

“…after that, it’s a soak in ghoul flakings.”

I didn’t know what ghoul flakings were, and I didn’t want to find out. Pulling my attention back to Billy, though, I mumbled, “It’s nice to speak to someone who understands the troubles of others. I just find people are so narrow-minded these days. About disorders.”

I’d cut him off, but his jaw dropped, and a shimmer ran over his skin—he must have a bit of Apollo. “That’s what I think.”

“No way.” I twirled the end of my braid, drawing the back of my hand against my breast on the way.

Looking up, I froze, meeting the gaze of Detective Devereaux across the street. He’d been leaning against the building next door to Galactica’s, but when his eyes met mine, he pushed off and disappeared into the crowd.

Billy was talking, but I stared down at the menu, breaths shallow.

He trailed off. “Are you okay?”

I pressed a hand to my face. “I just feel faint all of a sudden.”

Devereaux just saw me on a date. I hadn’t even given him an answer yet. And he’d just walked off, his expression so grave. What did that mean?

Judging by the weight in my stomach, I already knew.

He was pissed. Or hurt. Or a bit of both.

I’d hurt him.

Billy grabbed my hand. “Let me take a look.” He peered at my wrist. “Is that my name?”

Double shit. “It is,” I grimaced. “I was born with a memory disorder.”

His eyes widened. “Fleazrpeet. I have it too!”

Oh, brother. “You’re joking? What are the odds? I can’t wait to talk more about it with you, but do you mind if we order first?”

“Of course, hunger is the worst thing for Fleazrpeet sufferers.”

I picked up the menu, already knowing my order and secretly hoping the meal came quickly. By the way Billy’s gaze was darting down to my cleavage every minute or two, I was pretty sure tonight was a done deal despite him being a healer.

I just had to get through the next hour.

And if I could manage that while wishing more than anything that Devereaux had leaned over the fence to eat my absent date’s meal, all the better.

* * *

Two hours later, and I was nearly ready to prove the phrase “bored to tears” for the tenth time over.

But the end was in sight.

Soleil had demanded that I take a hire carriage home with my date when I’d refused to let her watch the date and follow us home. As I turned the key in the lock, I really hoped she was visiting the neighbor like we’d agreed. Not many dates were as unpleasurable as Billy, so failing this far into the piece would sting extra bad.

“Nice place,” he said, finally speaking about something other than the list of ailments inherited from his mother’s side.

“Thanks. Took a lot of saving to afford it.”

“I bet. Good for you.”

I pushed the door open. “Come on in.”

He entered, and I smoothly caught the door when he tried to swing it closed.

“Bit finicky,” I explained when Billy noticed. “Got to hold your tongue right.”

He scanned the room. “Just move in?”

“Something like that.”

Bedposts. Check.

Bed moved from under chandelier. Check.

Healer’s number on the table for when this inevitably went south. Check.

I’d screwed down the floorboards between here and the bed and placed a heavy rug over the top—taping down the edges of the rug, of course. I wasn’t an imbecile.

Tonight would tell me if those measures were enough to prevent a second round of the floorboard hoedown I’d experienced with the earth guardian.

My mouth dried when I saw the toaster was plugged in and switched on. Soleil must’ve grabbed something to eat before leaving. Shit.

Licking my lips, I calmly walked into the kitchen and switched off the appliance, pulling the plug from the socket while careful not to touch the prongs.

“Electricity causes Viqous Disease,” Billy said behind me. “I do the same thing in my apartment.”

I peeked over my shoulder. “It’s a serious turn-on to find someone who just knows.”

Returning to the main room, I met his gaze, then peered at my hands.

He stepped closer. “Cerys? Whatever is the matter, flower?”

Barf. “I just… I don’t usually do this. I feel such a connection with you. We have so much in common. I just… want you.”

I was seriously the worst person.

Meeting his stare, I tilted my chin. “I want to feel your body on mine.”

With an incubus, I’d say something far dirtier, but the more sensitive types got the connection line.

Again, worst person ever.

Billy swallowed. “I want to put my body on yours, Cerys.”

Couldn’t say I’d received that response before.

Kind of weird, but whatever.

Spinning, I slipped off my heels and walked to the bed, drawing my lilac and V-neck knit dress overhead on the way. Only my black bra and opaque stockings were left, held up by a black garter belt.

I reclined on the bed like a goddess about to be handfed grapes. “Put your body on mine, Billy.”

Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

His chest rose and fell. “Blessed flower.”

My lips trembled. Don’t laugh!

“Join me.” I patted the bed.

Billy drew his shirt overhead and kicked off his shoes but remained in his ironed suit pants. He had an excellent body despite his one million professed syndromes—maybe due to his sweat tent regime?—and for the first time this evening, I let myself really check him out. Not even because I wanted to. It’d just help with my loosening efforts.

Billy walked to stand beside the bed, and his knee touched my sheets.

My heart skipped a beat. No way. No fucking way. A man was touching my bed. While we were both half-dressed.

A man was touching my sheets!

This hadn’t happened in three years. Well, the detective had touched them perhaps, but not in a romantically charged situation.

I forced myself to remain outwardly calm, inwardly squealing.

“Just let me know if I do anything that’s too fast for you,” he hushed. “I want to look after you.”

“I will.” I made sure to lower my lashes. “Let me go grab a condom from the kitchen.”

“I have one in my pocket, flower.”

“I have studded ones.” When his eyes rounded, I smiled shyly. “I like how they feel.”

And maybe I once had. Couldn’t remember.

I walked to the kitchen and slipped on my safety glasses before opening a condom. A note stuck to the fridge caught my eye. Ripping it off, I stared at the single sentence.

Found the note in one of my handbags.

It was signed.

Sol.

A weight dropped in my stomach. “Oh, no.”

Poor Sol. That would have devastated her. Soleil only ever broke news this way if she couldn’t trust herself to remain calm and rational. She wanted to find her feathers as badly as I wanted to unmake my curse.

The urge to abandon my date and go hug her without delay was hard to temper, but I forced myself to remove the safety glasses and return to the bed. I’d just get this over with as soon as possible. Shouldn’t take more than a minute.

Setting the opened wrapper on the bedside table, I sat against the headboard. That seemed safest. Something would definitely happen when he got on the bed.

I winked. “Come here, handsome.”

Smirking sensual promises my way, the healer attempted just that.

Boing!

I gasped, throwing my arms up as white plaster and jib board rained down on my head from above.

Soleil’s ecstatic whoop reached me before I even had a chance to assess what just happened.

Lowering my arms, I glanced up to where Billy had been. And wasn’t any longer.

I peered upward to where his legs stuck out from my ceiling. He kicked wildly, dislodging more jib with each passing second. Presumably, his top half was in the apartment above—the one belonging to the neighbor Soleil had visited.

I thumped my head into my hands.

Billy’s shouts were muffled, but they grew louder as he was dragged through to the apartment above.

He might’ve been good for a few rounds with his healing magic, but flying through the ceiling was a definite end to our date. Grumbling under my breath, I clambered off the bed and pulled on my white robe.

Soleil’s red face appeared in the hole above. “What happened?”

“Does he need me to call another healer?”

She briefly disappeared, then came back. “He’s already fixing himself.”

“He just sat on the bed,” I whispered quietly.

Her mouth formed an O as she traced the path from the bed to the hole she currently occupied. “So amazing!” She grinned.

Her bottom lip trembled.

“Oh, Sol,” I said sadly. “I’m so sorry you found the note.”

She shook her head, sniffing hard. “Best to know,” Soleil said sternly. “We’ll need to make the detective aware too. I’ll figure out a better way to file my notes.”

Her family did this to her—taught their child that emotion was weak and logical action was the only acceptable reaction to hurt and sadness. “Of course. I can do that tomorrow first thing. How about we go grab a drink now though? We’ll go through your notes and pick a new one to follow up next week.”

Her bottom lip trembled again. “What about your date?”

I raised both brows. “Seriously? It’s over with…” I checked my wrist. “Billy.”

She snorted. A weak snort, but a snort all the same. “Fine. But I want to hear all the details leading up to.” Her gaze traced the pathway between my bed and ceiling again. “Be down soon!”

Tonight, I’d be on friend duties.

But meanwhile, I had yet another call to make to my landlord.

24

I entered the pink and white tent covered with our Yearning Hearts logo. Within, Niera sat on the low stool, looking like a princess.

“Doing okay?” I asked.

She wrung her elegant hands. “I’m so nervous. I’ve never been captured before. I know how the whole thing goes from my mother and sister, but still.”

A maiden’s capture was full-on. We’d cordoned off a large area, but the council had insisted on us placing no-impact charms around the perimeter. “Don’t be nervous. You could meet your true love in the next few hours.”

Niera inhaled sharply, face stricken. “I’m just trying not to get my hopes up. The person may not be in Nepos.”

We’d made sure to keep her hopes reasonable, but I wanted her to find her true love so badly. If I couldn’t have love just yet, it was really important to me that other people would. If I lost that, then… well, I didn’t even want to contemplate what would happen to me.

A bell sounded.

Soleil’s signal.

She was behind all the drama of the day—including the decision to keep Niera from view during the whole setup and gathering of the crowd. She’d dressed our maiden in white and placed a silver circlet upon her tumbling dark curls too.

There were already hundreds of Nepos residents outside clamoring for a glimpse of the seat in the middle of the capture area where Niera would soon sit.

“Sounds like there are a lot of people out there.” She fussed with the ends of her hair.

Sure were. We’d plastered this event through the Nepos Notice and blasted it over the radio. Hundreds had convened today. If not to try their luck, then to watch the proceedings. Our event could turn into everything Niera wished for, and if we were successful, then the newspaper and radio station would surely highlight the result.

So this could be amazing for Yearning Hearts too.

“That was the goal.” I reminded her. “All you need to do is sit in the chair, and we’ll handle the rest. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Really. We have everything handled.”

Niera took a breath. “I trust you.”

“Good. Then we’re going to head out now.”

She met my gaze fleetingly. “Do I look okay?”

I gave her an unnecessary once over. Maidens were always stunning, and she was no exception to the rule. “You look absolutely beautiful. If he’s out there, he won’t be able to believe his luck.”

Niera wrung her hands again, then shook them out. “Okay.”

“Ready?”

She drew her shoulders back, raising her chin. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”

I pushed back the flap of the tent, and the maiden swept past. Trailing behind her, I listened to the awed quiet as she appeared to float across the ground toward her throne.

Stopping at the front of the long queue of lucky token holders—and the holders of the three hundred extra tokens we’d given out today so far—I watched as Niera took her seat in the middle of the huge, cordoned area.

Soleil crouched to place the train of her dress around her feet. My friend then held the red megaphone to her lips. “May I present Niera. Our beautiful, beautiful maiden. How gorgeous is she, everyone?”

The crowd applauded.

“There are hundreds here today to have their chance at capturing our maiden,” Soleil boomed. “We’ll get started soon. Just a reminder that if you didn’t manage to nab one of the lucky tokens, then you can secure one by signing up with our buddy, Austin, at our love booth to the left of the tent.”

I watched men and women alike break away from the crowd to do just that now they’d seen our gorgeous maiden.

“Cerys, my partner in crime, please send forth our first knight!”

I shot the incubus beside me a look. “Got your token?”

He winked and flipped his token into the bucket at my feet. He wasn’t her match. I could already tell.

The incubus sauntered all the way to the maiden, and I watched his lips move as he repeated the words scrawled in pink neon above Niera’s head, “I do hereby capture thee for my own, lovely maiden.”

Niera looked at him but didn’t make any sudden movement.

I sent the next token-bearer in as the rejected incubus slunk past the maiden to the exit.

“Think I’ll be in with a shot?” a handsome man asked.

I puzzled over his type before spotting griffin wings tucked tightly against his back through the slits made in his T-shirt. I smiled back. “Sure. You have as much chance as anyone.”

“Any hints?”

This guy had a charismatic presence. I found myself smiling again. “Not a single one, I’m afraid.”

Griffin’s torso was covered with feathers, and some were visible in the open V-neck of his T-shirt. He had a golden necklace on too.

I had to admit, the guy was super-hot. For no particular reason. There was just something about him.

“Commiserations, my friend. Commiserations,” Soleil’s voice split through my drooling session.

“Got your token?” I asked the griffin.

He placed it in my hand instead of the bucket.

I watched the guy walk into the cordoned area, not managing to avoid dipping my gaze down to check out his butt.

Walking to take over my post as earlier agreed, Soleil suddenly stopped, going entirely—predatorily—still.

Her eyes fixed on the griffin.

I’d known her through some serious stuff, but I’d never ever seen true murder in her gaze. She was going to attack the guy. Kill him. There was no doubt in my mind.

My mouth dried.

Because just like that, I knew.

There was only one thing that could make her react in such a way.

The flash of gold at the griffin’s neck wasn’t from jewelry.

I stumbled after him. “Sir! Excuse me, sir!”

The griffin turned. “Yeah?”

Thinking fast, I held out his token. “Your token is a fake.”

A deep frown appeared between his brows. “No, it’s real.”

Whoa, Sol’s feather packed a serious punch. I wanted to believe him and let him continue walking even though I knew about the magical object in his possession. “Nope. It’s really not. I can’t let you have a go at capturing our maiden.”

Because the siren behind you is ten seconds away from ripping your head off.

The griffin scoffed. “Watch me. She’s mine.”

And with a siren feather in his clutches, maybe he could confuse Niera on that front. What a fucking creep. My blood began to boil.

No one got in the way of true love on my watch.

My focus drew inwards, fixing on his back. “Oi. Douchebag.”

This time, shock coated his features when he turned. “What did you just say to me?”

I walked up to him. “Here’s how it’s going to go. You have something that doesn’t belong to you down your shirt. You’re going to walk over to that pink and white tent. You’re going to set that object down on the wooden stool in the tent. You’re then going to leave, and because I’m a nice person, I’ll consider forgetting your face afterward.”

The jolt of fear he’d displayed at the start of my speech died away. He laughed, leaning in. “And what makes you think I’ll do that, cupid?”

I smiled without humor. “Take a look behind you.”

Soleil was doing her best to keep it together, but her fangs were out and she was glowing gold. The crowd had started to notice, especially given the standoff between me and the griffin.

He turned and froze, a whimper leaving his lips.

A creep and a wimp.

“That badass siren,” I said pleasantly. “Her talons are very, very sharp.”

He stepped back, nearly colliding with me.

“No quick movements,” I warned him. “She’ll attack without provocation with what she senses on you. I’d guess that you have seconds left to live.”

The griffin turned to me, mouth opening.

There would be good ears listening to this conversation. “I don’t want to hear it.” I cut him off. “The tent. Set it on the stool. Leave.” I narrowed my gaze. “Got it?”

“If I do, she’ll let me live?” he stuttered.

I leaned in, smirking. “Only if you’re quick about it. And she’ll be following you to make sure you don’t forget any of my instructions.”

The griffin bolted for the tent.

Soleil’s gaze tracked him across the grass, and I hurried to her side, taking the megaphone. “You heard?”

A hum echoed in her chest. One I’d never heard her make.

Did it mean yes? “Try not to kill him.”

Not answering, she glided after the guy, and even as her best friend, I had to admit the sight gave me the willies.

The hush of the crowd’s whispers swelled higher.

Niera shot me a panicked glance.

I’d promised her this would go smoothly.

I held the megaphone to my lips. “Your attention, please. Any person found to carry an object they plan to hoodwink our lovely maiden with will find themselves face-to-face with my buddy, Soleil, whom as you can see is a siren.”

A quick glance told me the griffin had made it to the tent.

My pulse took off. I was nearly 100 percent sure he carried one of Soleil’s feathers. She was about to get it back. I’d never wanted to ditch my cupid duties more, but I just couldn’t let Niera down.

“If you carry such an object,” I said. “I suggest you vacate this event immediately or face her wrath.”

Lowering the megaphone, I walked to Niera. “Nothing to worry about. Just a griffin being a moron. You okay?”

She wrung her hands. “What if someone else tries to trick me?”

I tilted her chin with a finger. “Niera, I’m going to tell you a secret. Nothing. And I mean nothing can replicate true love. There is no force strong enough. The griffin may have thought he could trick you, but he wouldn’t have been successful. And I know that for a fact.”

And somehow, inexplicably, I did.

Niera searched my gaze. “Really?”

I nodded.

She smiled, her excitement returning. “Let’s continue.”

Calling for the next token bearer through the megaphone, I returned to my post at the head of the queue.

If her true love showed up before Soleil returned, we were big-time screwed. I was far too close to the action.

But Soleil joined me less than ten minutes later. She took the mega-phone from me, saying, “Today, this lovely maiden finds her true love! Want to find yours? At Yearning Hearts, we believe love doesn’t discriminate. So neither do we. Any and all types are welcome. If you’re yearning for real love, then Yearning Hearts will be with you every step of the way.”

She turned to me as a centaur dropped his token in the bucket and trotted toward our maiden.

I searched her expression wordlessly.

Moisture built in the siren’s eyes as she reached out to grip my hand and squeeze it.

She got it? I didn’t dare hope.

“One down,” she whispered.

She got it!

Heart threatening to burst, I barely restrained myself from dragging her into a jumping and screaming mess of a hug. I settled for returning the squeeze of her hand instead. Otherwise, I’d dissolve into tears. Because her Apollo shimmer blared over her skin, stronger than ever. Happiness radiated from her in all directions.

Pure joy blanketed her face.

Five years, and she’d regained a lost piece of herself.

A lump rose in my throat. Soleil sent the next token bearer forward before leaning closer to me. “I don’t pay you to have feelings, remember?”

My laugh was half sob. Like she didn’t just spend the last ten minutes crying in the tent before coming out. “Got it from here?”

I really couldn’t be this close if Niera’s true love showed up.

Soleil took a full, deep breath. And smiled. “I’ve got this.”

Hurrying away before I lost the struggle with my tear ducts, I joined Austin at the sign-up booth. “Need a hand?”

“Yeah,” he grunted.

A monosyllabic reply? Probably because the poor guy was overrun.

Ecstatic on Soleil’s behalf, I settled into signing up eager men and women, keeping half an ear and eye on the proceedings as time whittled by.

“See you next month,” I said to a middle-aged water mage, evident by the curled wave on his forehead.

When the water mage joined the back of the token queue—now around half the length—I said to Austin, “We have a two-and-half month waiting list. Soleil is going to lose her mind.”

More than she already had today. Our waiting list was nearly double what it was prior to the break-in.

“Good.” He turned his back to me.

He’d barely said a word to me the entire time. Something was up. “Austin, are you all right?”

The phoenix glanced at me, then sighed. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Okay.” I watched him closely. “If you need to talk, just say the word.”

Austin stiffened. “Actually, I need some space to absorb. Do you mind if we postpone our date tonight?”

He’d thought it was a date.

Not good.

“Of course. Seriously, not a big deal. But if you decide that you need to talk to a friend, then you know my phone number.”

When Austin felt better, I’d make sure to set the record straight. He may have fun boyfriend potential, but Yearning Hearts came first.

Always.

He busied himself under the table again, and my nose twitched. Distracted by Austin’s unusual behavior, it took my nose twitching a second time for cold horror to find me.

I straightened, whipping to look behind as a rake-thin man approached Niera from the front of the token queue.

My cold horror faded as the air between them thrummed a deep bass. The sweetest chant of a poem read in the summer moonlight. I inhaled, and the wondrous, silken love wrapped around me, bringing tears of pure joy to my eyes.

The fluttering canvas covering our sign-up booth caught my eye—or the Yearning Hearts logo more specifically.

Panic speared through the haze of true love luring me in.

I had to go.

Right the hell now.

Austin was still pretending to search for something to avoid speaking to me, so I wrenched away from the thrumming true love match about to happen before my very eyes and started walking. Pink power surged down my arms, trying to burst from my fingertips.

“Not today, my fickle friend,” I said tightly.

Shoving my hands in my armpits, I pretended to be warming myself as I marched double-time away from our event.

A ferocious screech rent the air.

That had to be Niera.

The pull of her true love spun me in a half-circle like a freakin’ puppet. I bodily threw myself around the other way again to stop myself returning.

Grunting with the effort, I forced myself on past Neptune’s fountain, and slowly, slowly, I felt the call of duty lessen.

I sucked in a breath and glanced around. The park was full of people, and I was getting funny looks. Probably because sweat was pouring down my face and my movements were jerky as hell.

The crowd ooo’d loudly in the distance.

Another screech.

I panted, fighting to keep my cupid power inside.

Maybe I’d wait it out just inside the tree line. I couldn’t venture far from people with the mad-case cage man after me. But the tree line would be fine.

And if he decided to come…

I rested my finger on the bag belted around my hips. The beeper from Devereaux was in there, along with some other things to help keep me safe.

The crowd gasped as one. And here I was crouching next to an oak, sweating profusely.

This sucked.

“Why can’t you just do what you’re told?” I asked my pink power.

It responded by throwing me in the direction of Niera and her match.

“Ugh.” I picked myself up, brushing leaf litter from my arms. “Thanks.”

A subtle whoosh sounded overhead, and every muscle in my body tensed as I peered up. The oak trees provided near-complete shade from the midday sun.

A branch snapped to my right.

I backed up.

Leaves whispered on my left.

Nope. I’m out.

Exiting the tree line, I felt the pull of my power immediately ramp up a notch. I doubled over as it started shuffling my feet back toward the event.

I had to move farther away so I could stay in the crowd. The whooshing sound could have been from any number of types—or just, like, nature sounds, but best not to put myself at risk.

I took my usual direction home, keeping to the crowd. There was no way I’d walk into the human reserve part of Juno Park without Austin and Soleil after my last experience there.

I lingered at the top of the narrow path I usually took home to Ceres Close, hands shoved into my armpits, nodding at the people sending me strange looks.

The crowd ahh’d.

Then screamed.

A screech.

“This blows,” I told a tree.

“You blow,” a tiny voice chirped back. A smattering of tiny laughs and a flock of sprites burst from the trees, zipping in the direction of the fountain.

Honestly? Blowing would be a triumph for me.

And one of those sprites was probably the bastard who’d dobbed me into the law enforcers.

I scanned the skies again, checking over my shoulder for cage man.

This asshole really had me freaked.

My nose twitched.

And this time, I didn’t need a second twitch to feel cold horror.

“You’re kidding me,” I blurted, feeling my power rise in a tidal wave. The gods must be having a laugh. There was another true love match close by.

A screech sounded, and this time it was closer. Understanding dawning, I glanced upward and found Niera—the killer swan version of Niera—high above, the rake-thin man who was her true love match clinging to her webbed foot.

There wasn’t a second love match close by.

It was still theirs.

Their love thrummed in my ears, coating my senses. I could feel the absoluteness of my magic taking over. Whispering that I should make my pink arrows fly.

Telling me it was the right thing to do.

Stumbling back from the crowd like a drunkard, I delved into the bag around my hips, feeling frantically for the beeper.

Because I couldn’t not seek cover.

With Niera flying about, I had to enter the trees.

I had to do it now.

But I wasn’t going in there unprotected.

Finding the beeper, I squeezed it three times, feeling the cool surface warm in acknowledgment of my call to Devereaux.

Keeping to the narrow path, I backed away from the crowds in Juno Park as quickly as possible, my movements jerky and slow as though I was wading through mud and being electrocuted at the same time.

“Please, don’t.” I groaned.

I stared through blurring vision at the brilliant pink glow starting to pour out from where I still trapped my hands.

“Not here.” I tried again. But my magic didn’t give a single shit about all the witnesses. Or the danger.

It forced me forward, and I countered by throwing myself back. The air rushed from my lungs as I landed heavily on my back.

My hands were free.

Shit.

I grabbed handfuls of leaf litter as the pink glow ramped up, spreading along my arms. I rolled onto my front, writhing from the force commanding me to ensure the true love match currently roaming the skies occurred.

“Should’ve stayed at home,” I gasped.

“Yes,” a man answered. “You should have.”

I screamed and scrambled away from the voice, bursting to my feet. Unfortunately, the call of my power appeared not to care about the current threat to my life. I staggered, battling against it, my heart racing.

It was him.

Blur charm once again in place, the man stood before me, cage already out. My chest rose and fell. I couldn’t turn tail and bolt for Ceres Close without fighting my magic every step of the way. And what if I did? This guy had shown that he was willing to go public. I couldn’t take the chance that anyone was out and about on Ceres Close. Or that they’d help me.

Yet returning to the park was out of the question too. That posed an equal danger to me, though perhaps not one so acute. I’d take that route if I absolutely had to, but for now, waiting for Devereaux out of sight was my best bet.

“Heart elemental,” he breathed as Niera screeched overhead again.

Pink flared around both of my hands, and it seemed pointless to correct his misunderstanding. Then again, stalling was a great idea.

I reached into the bag of tricks belted to my hip and took out two balls. The bag held a mixture of curses and charms, but I’d set them all to the same activation phrase.

“I’m not a heart elemental,” I said with forced calm. “Whomever you got your information from has the wrong end of the stick.”

He eyed the balls in my hands, and tension rolled out over his body.

Shit. Okay, he’d try something soon. I had to be prepared for an attack. His Venus trap only worked in close proximity.

I just had to keep my cool.

“You have magic,” he sneered. “My information is sound despite the lies you tell to throw me off the scent.”

“I’m a cupid.” I insisted. “Heart elementals get bows at age twenty. I never got one.”

“But you have magic.” He moved left.

I quickly stepped the other way. “Yes. And I’d be willing to help you. There’s no need to—”

The man lunged, and I shouted, “Fuck you,” throwing one of the curse balls. He dodged, and I threw the other. “Fuck you!”

It connected. Right in his blurred face.

Ha!

Tentacles wrapped around his head. I didn’t stay to watch. More distance was a good thing, even if that meant running through the trees. If Niera and her match moved away in the meantime, then maybe I’d be close enough to rejoin the crowd in Juno Park.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t getting the memo. My “run” was more of a dragging hop.

Pounding footsteps.

This guy could fly, yet he chose to pound the pavement.

I retrieved two more balls from my belt. One was a charm.

“Fuck you,” I murmured, squeezing it. An orb cast outward from my body.

Oof.

His body collided with mine, and I went flying into a gigantic oak. The shining orb around me faded; its one-time protection magic fading to nonexistence.

Groaning, I rolled over, shakily getting my feet under me. I faced him again, curse ball in hand.

“Your face,” I blurted.

The tentacle curse had ripped his blur charm off.

My attacker blanched, hand going to his jaw before he apparently decided the blur charm wasn’t necessary to finish the job.

I stared at my attacker. He was nondescript, to say the least, and part of me was disappointed because I’d convinced myself that I had to know him—or know him through Soleil’s old life.

This guy didn’t ring any bells, and while I might forget a name—very often—I didn’t forget a face, and I’d met a lot of faces in my line of work.

He wasn’t a disgruntled client.

He wasn’t a pissed-off siren

He was just a complete and utter stranger.

“How did you hear about me?” I asked hoarsely, reaching for another ball. How many did I have left?

Two? Three?

Niera screeched, and the crowd roared.

Sweat trickled down my temple, and I sucked in breath after breath, my legs shaking. This battle on two fronts thing wasn’t ideal.

A shift in the shadows beyond my attacker caught my attention, and I squinted.

Cool gray eyes peered out at me from between two trees, and my knees almost gave way from sheer relief.

“I’m not here to talk to you. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.” The man drew out the cage again, and even with the detective close now, I backed up against the huge tree I’d just collided with.

What did he mean by more trouble than you’re worth? Devereaux’s presence was a double-edged sword—protection on the one hand, but he was also a witness to whatever the man might say.

With the cage swinging, my attacker advanced, growl building in his chest. Fixed on the cage, I didn’t see the movement of his other arm until too late.

Yelping, I veered from the incoming curse.

He wasn’t throwing it at me though.

A shiny black gate appeared to my right, and I pulled up just shy of running face-first into it. Whirling, I searched for Devereaux’s blue eyes in the shadows. He’d been here. I was sure of it. Why wasn’t he taking this guy out?

The man stalked closer, and a flapping Band-Aid on his jaw caught my attention. The tiny distraction fled my mind as it became clear I was cornered well and truly. Oak tree, gate, oak tree, man with a cage.

Shit.

The man opened the Venus trap, advancing with catlike precision that I’d only encountered in vampires. But he wasn’t a vampire. He was unlike any type I’d ever seen--fangs and flight, predatory tendencies but no heightened speed. I had zero clue what he was.

More importantly, so close to being sucked into his cage, I wasn’t willing to believe that I’d seen Devereaux any longer. Grabbing the last two curses from my hip bag, I shouted, “Fuck you,” and threw them.

Whipping a harmonica from out of freakin’ nowhere, the guy batted the curse balls away. As though he’d used a harmonica like nunchucks one million times.

What the hell was going on?

Down to the wire, I grabbed the beeper and hurled that at his head, too, then turned to the black gate, leaping high in an attempt to traverse the towering obstacle.

The pull.

I felt it in my middle, just like the first time. A drawing in, a tightening. The magic of the Venus trap commanded me inside its compact quarters, and I screamed in earnest, clinging to the black gate.

A terrible, ripping snarl erupted at my back.

Logic had nothing to do with my reaction. Instinct made me whirl back to face my attacker. But the sound wasn’t coming from him.

Clad in his usual long black coat, the detective was turned from me, his hand clenched around the neck of my assailant. Posture rigid, he seemed bigger—muscles straining at the confines of his jacket where the garment usually hid them with reasonable success.

My eyes rounded at the short black claws extending from Devereaux’s fingertips, and I covered my mouth as a small stream of blood trickled from beneath the brown leather bracelet around his left wrist.

The man in Devereaux’s grip turned steadily purple. He’d dropped the Venus trap, which lay open to my left. Edging around, I tried to glimpse more of the detective’s face, but as if aware of my motive, he turned in tandem with me, keeping his face from view.

But not my attacker’s.

The flapping Band-Aid on the man’s jaw lost the battle, floating to the ground and revealing what lay beneath.

A flower.

Hellebore specifically, a symbol of Minerva’s line. And one I’d seen before.

Floored, my jaw dropped. “Duke?”

No way.

“Duke of Duke’s Dive,” I said with greater certainty, stepping closer.

Devereaux didn’t seem surprised. “The game’s up, Duke,” he said to the jazz bar owner, lowering him to the ground.

The purple-faced shapeshifter glared at me, then at the detective before moving lumps appeared under his skin. There were no cracks nor pops that I’d associate with other shifters. The change of a shapeshifter was silent.

And kind of disgusting.

My uncertainty over his type made complete sense now. He’d been borrowing physical attributes from a range of descendants to confuse me.

Thirty seconds later, I stared at the more familiar rock-concert version of Duke in bafflement.

“This is because I sat in your bar?” I asked. But that didn’t make sense. He had a Venus trap.

He’d thought I was a heart elemental.

“Don’t move,” Devereaux ordered him. “I’m faster, stronger, and a hell of a lot meaner than you.”

Leaving the scowling shapeshifter to sink to the ground, the detective picked up the Venus trap, closing the cage before placing the contraband in his pocket.

Returning to the collapsed bar owner, Devereaux glanced at me. He’d lost his extra berserker size and seemed to be asking me a silent question with his look.

I took a stab in the dark. “I’m not hurt.”

His gaze roamed my face before he peered down at the shapeshifter again. “Duke. What’s this about?”

“I nearly had her,” the bar owner muttered.

His tone caught at me. He didn’t mutter in a dark or angry way. He muttered like… like he was devastated.

“You wanted someone to fall in love with you?” I asked, still 100 percent befuddled. I mean, I supposed that Duke was as likely to get desperate for love as any ol’ stranger, but… why me specifically?

Duke pressed his lips together.

“You know you’ll need to talk eventually.” Devereaux crouched by him.

The jazz owner closed his eyes.

“This isn’t like you, Duke. Not your style, and not your crime.”

I watched sweat drip down the shapeshifter’s neck. Was he unwell?

“I won’t talk, berserker. Not this time.”

The detective watched him. “Who’s got shit on you?”

He thought the bar owner was being blackmailed or controlled somehow?

“Is it debt, Duke?” he asked in a louder voice. “Who are you up against?”

The shapeshifter knelt unspeaking, unmoving, his eyes closed.

Devereaux sighed, extracting glowing cuffs from his jacket. “These cuffs are spelled against shifting. I don’t recommend that you test them out.”

The jazz bar owner held out his wrist as compliant as ever. I wouldn’t even recognize him from the man I’d encountered a few minutes ago—though the harmonica thing made far more sense now. This version of Duke was… broken.

I rubbed at my temples, the adrenaline of the last ten minutes subsiding and leaving bone-deep fatigue in its wake.

Devereaux left the cuffed shapeshifter and pulled me aside. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea. I… Do you think he was forced to do this?”

“Duke’s been on and off my radar for a long time. Petty crime. Nothing too steep. He’s a criminal with a moral limit. This isn’t like him. I’m thinking he got in too deep with someone.”

My stomach churned. “If he wasn’t after me for himself, then I’m still in danger, Dev.”

He lowered his voice. “He’s scared out of his mind. Getting him to talk won’t be easy, but I’ll get what I can. Until we know if he was working alone…”

I nodded, my lips numb. “I’ll stock up on more curses and charms. Did he take Jaeke too? And what about the grave digging?” I glanced to where the black gate had started to dissolve. I’d nearly seen my last moments there.

His expression was grave. “I plan to find out, Cerys. Really. And I’ll get in touch when I have something. Until then, I’ll escort you back into the park. You need to return to Soleil.”

I can’t.

The words died on my lips, though, as I noticed the screams and shouts of the crowd had disappeared along with Niera’s screeches. My magic had released its hold on my body, the pink entirely gone.

Warmth found me. Our maiden was captured.

But did the detective witness the pink glow around my hands earlier? I hoped not. Yet if Duke decided to spill the beans, then the detective would hear his heart elemental theory and about my magic anyway.

Devereaux had to hear it from me first.

I chewed on my bottom lip. “Listen. There’s something—

A wet cough interrupted our tense bubble.

We both turned, and Devereaux swore as the shapeshifter collapsed to the ground. Foam frothed at his mouth. Duke writhed, body contorting in painful arcs.

The detective pulled a dart from his long coat pocket, ripping off the cap with his teeth before jamming it into the bar owner’s neck.

Covering my mouth, I shuffled closer to the man who’d tried to enslave me in a cage, a man who, if Devereaux was right, had been trapped himself. My exhales echoed in my ears as Duke grew still, the wet sounds in his throat and nose growing pathetic in their strength.

An inhale.

A long, rattling sigh.

The shapeshifter was dead.

25

“That’s the last of the tables,” I called.

Five minutes remained until the doors of Heroic Hexameter’s conference room opened for our first speed-dating event of the year.

The two-seater tables were covered with white cloths. A tealight sat at the center of each table, along with scorecards for each attendee to keep track of the mass of people they were about to chat with in the hopes of finding that romantic spark.

Soleil rushed to place the gold timer on our desk, then scanned the huge space. She usually had boundless energy, but since replacing one of her lost feathers onto her left wing last week, she’d ramped up a notch. She’d been unstoppable since—happier, more powerful, downright glowing.

“Cards. Pamphlets. Sign-up form for our Valentine’s event next month,” she murmured.

“It’s all perfect, Sol.”

“Not yet,” she said. Striding to the door, she flicked all but one light off. Instantly, the room became more sensual and mysterious.

Plus, people tended to be braver in the dark.

I walked to the double doors, grabbing the right handle, while Soleil grabbed the left. Austin was meant to be here, but he’d called in sick. Fairly certain phoenixes couldn’t catch illnesses, but I’d interpreted his absence to mean he was sick at heart. My new friend was struggling big time. I’d need to keep a close eye on Austin—when I wasn’t checking over my shoulder every three seconds for whoever set Duke on me.

A week had gone by with no attacks though, so maybe the person had been scared off.

“Three, two, one,” Soleil chimed.

Drawing open my door, I beamed at the one hundred and forty-plus men and women ready to get their date on.

“Welcome,” my friend called. “I’m Soleil, operations manager of Yearning Hearts. This here is my bestie, Cerys Concordia, official cupid and match-making goddess of our dating agency.”

“She matched that maiden last weekend,” someone called from the back.

It was hardly my doing. Tigel had captured Niera during an intense thirty-minute flight after which our maiden quickly reverted to her usual self—tearful with joy at finding her life companion at last.

Nepos had been alight with news of our event ever since.

Soleil winked. “We go above and beyond for our clients. And tonight is no exception. Who here has speed-dated before?”

I kept my smile in place as she ramped up the crowd and stripped away some of the nerves filling the lobby. These events weren’t easy for the average person. Getting out there was a hard thing to do. Many people hated small talk or simply weren’t good at it—or maybe they found it hard to decipher facial expressions and the like. Add to the mix that both people at the dating table had only two minutes to decide on the person opposite them while wondering what that person thought of them.

It was a lot.

Speed dating was a rush, however, and a buttload of fun once people loosened up. Being the hostesses, our job was to help our date-goers get to the fun part as soon as possible.

“Has everyone got a drink from the hotel bar?” Soleil asked as if reading my mind.

A general “Yeah!” went up, our date-goers holding their glasses aloft.

I could already tell this would be a good night. No true love matches, for which I was extremely thankful after last Saturday, but we’d run the potential couples from this group through our software last night. If they managed to find each other, there were a few great matches in the house.

The crowd followed me and Soleil inside, females sitting at the tables, and men taking a seat opposite a woman at random. They’d simply rotate around the tables while the women stayed put.

Soleil took everyone through how to use the scorecards while I got comfortable at the small table with our timer. Turning it every two minutes was the only job she’d trust me with, but I’d be at it for a few hours.

I liked to think it was a semi-important task.

“Are you ready?” she hollered at our date-goers.

Some of our attendees were more liquored up than others, but the overall shout was louder this time.

I grinned.

“Remember, you have two minutes to figure out if the person opposite you is someone you want to know more about. Mark down your choices on your card, and if the person picks you, too, then Yearning Hearts will get in touch over the next week to give you that person’s contact details. But…” She fake scowled. “…if you mark a name down, then promise me something.” She paused for dramatic effect. “That you get in touch with that person if they’ve chosen you too. Don’t wait for them to call. Just pick up the damn phone and get in touch.”

She let that sink in, then glanced at me. “Ready on the clock, Cerys?”

I placed a manicured hand on the timer. “Ready, Sol.”

“Count with me,” she yelled. “Ten. Nine. Eight…”

We usually got a 15-percent success rate from these things—success being defined as a relationship that lasted more than six months past the event. Most people here would go on at least one date after this evening, which was a big deal for the majority here. Speed-dating nights always brought in new clients in the months to come, and after Capture the Maiden, we already had a four-month waiting list. I may still have a mad case after me, a curse, and a bunch of other problems, but at least Yearning Hearts was sound.

Maybe all the potential love in this room was just making me extra happy, but things could be worse.

“One,” Soleil hollered.

I spun the timer and marked the sheet.

Two minutes went by, and I pushed the buzzer to signal the end of the first date. There was the usual hum of surprise. Yeah, two minutes really wasn’t a long time.

“You have twenty seconds to get to your next spot, fellas,” Soleil called. “Your next starting question is ‘What’s one moment in your life that changed your path for the better?’ Let’s get away from that small talk and into the deep stuff.”

Our date-goers laughed, the men quickly settling onto their new seats.

I pressed the buzzer again and spun the timer to start the next date.

Soleil would smell it from across the room if I did this job wrong.

A man sat down opposite me. “Oh, I’m not—” I glanced up and my pulse tripled as I looked into Detective Devereaux’s gray eyes.

“Cerys,” he said, head tilted. “Quite the crowd.”

I searched for my grown-up words. “Hi. Uh, what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

“We do?” I asked. “Did you find out more about Duke?” I hadn’t heard from Devereaux in a whole week.

Shoot. The timer.

I pressed the buzzer and waited twenty seconds, then flipped the timer again, marking the sheet.

The detective ran a thumb along his bottom lip. Unlike before noon, he was entirely alert and put together at this hour and so damn handsome that I sincerely hoped this hotel didn’t have a sprinkler system.

“We searched his house,” Devereaux spoke quietly, though there wasn’t any need with over seventy other conversations going on around us. “There was no evidence to suggest that Duke was the culprit digging up graves.”

“So whoever’s really after me did that? Or was it unrelated?”

“Impossible to tell without more to go off, but my gut says they’re related.”

Dammit. So did mine. “Then this someone could still come for me.”

“You stocked up on curses?”

I nodded. “Charms too.”

As the last grain of sand left the timer once more, I smacked the buzzer, marking the sheet. Twenty seconds later, I set the timer spinning for the next round.

“Good,” the detective murmured. “I wanted to ask if there was anything else Duke said to you before I arrived.”

When did he arrive that day though? The question had plagued me since I last saw the berserker. He’d shown up so fast. Within minutes. And when he did show up, Devereaux had stood waiting in the trees.

Did he see my magic?

How long did he follow me for that day before revealing himself? Because he’d known about our event. He’d known where Soleil was because he told me to return to her.

Or was I reading too much into this?

I shook it off, thinking back. Last Saturday was ingrained on my mind, and I’d already replayed the experience too many times to count. “There was one thing that seemed weird. He spoke about my lies not putting him off.”

The comment didn’t spark my curiosity at the time, but since then, the exact wording had caught at me. Not one lie. Lies, he’d said. Plural. Yet if Duke had decided my heart elemental denial was such a lie, then I’d only said it to him once. Singular.

Probably reading too much into it again.

Being attacked a few times would do that to a gal.

Devereaux leaned back while I went through my timer and buzzer routine. “Any idea what he meant?”

I marked the sheet. “None. I’d hoped it might mean more to you.”

“I’m afraid not. But there was something else I hoped you could help me with.” He reached into his jacket.

“Does that jacket expand?”

The detective glanced up.

Crap. Did I just stand in something again? “I just noticed that you got bigger when your other form came out last weekend.”

His throat worked. “Yes, it’s a special design.”

“Oh, cool. Just wondered.”

He hesitated but didn’t say whatever was on his mind, instead drawing a small clear pouch from his inner pocket.

I spun the timer, pushed the buzzer, waited, then spun and added a mark. Phew, the timing thing really ramped up the conversational pressure.

Devereaux held up the pouch, and I squinted at the teensy tiny object within.

“What is it?”

“You don’t recognize it?” he asked.

I looked closer. “It’s a bow?”

He nodded. “Found inside a certain Venus trap.”

My eyes rounded. “Someone used to be in there?” Anything on a cupid’s person would shrink with them when they went into the cage. If the person left an object behind upon being extracted from the trap, the object would remain inside and of tiny proportions for all time.

“Recently. Our lab guys couldn’t pull a magical signature off, but they ran some residue through a dating scan. We wondered if Jaeke left the bow there.”

I clapped my hands over my mouth. “You think so? But how would he have a bow? Jaeke wasn’t a heart elemental.”

Then again, if I was hiding in plain sight, maybe other cupids and stronger types of our line were too.

A heart elemental though. Never saw that coming.

Devereaux pushed the buzzer. I watched him wait twenty seconds, spin the timer, and make a mark on my sheet.

Not gonna lie. Kind of impressed.

He looked at me after. “You don’t recognize this bow as his?”

I shook my head. “No. But if it belongs to him, then ditching it to leave a trail makes sense, doesn’t it?”

The flicker of excitement left his face.

I guessed my “theory” wasn’t evidence.

The detective leaned in. “Did you know anything else about Duke that could be important?”

I thought back. “Enemy of B at B Sharp. Shapeshifter with a hellebore tell on his left jaw. That’s it. I’d never spoken to him before my appointment with the witch at his dive.”

Too late, I realized what just spilled from my lips. “I mean—”

Ugh.

Cerys, you idiot.

Dev’s eyes glittered. “A genie and a witch. One type is hard to find, and the other is hard to talk to unless you’re her type too. You saw the genie for a wish, so can I then conclude that you saw a witch for a charm? Or…” he tilted his head, “perhaps for a curse?”

My heart raced.

“Okay, you two. I’m taking over.” Soleil towered over me.

“Sorry.” I grimaced. “It’s about the case.”

Well, it had been until now.

“Scoot. I’ve got this for a bit.” She glowered at Devereaux. “A bit.”

He ignored her show of temper.

We entered the lobby and sat on the brown leather couches nearest the conference room. The color of the leather drew my attention to his bracelet. I’d spotted the trickle of blood dripping from beneath it last week. He always wore that bracelet. Was it a berserker thing?

“Duke had power in Nepos,” the detective went back to our previous conversation as though he hadn’t just accidentally uncovered my curse secret. “Far more than he let his patrons know about. I’d therefore assume that whoever wanted you caught holds more power than him.”

I whispered. “And who’s that?”

“Various mafias. Perhaps gold lenders. I’ll try to access Duke’s finances to see if his ventures were failing.”

A mafia could be after me? I swallowed hard. “You don’t think Rodney has anything to do with it? He’s in the poltergeist mafia, right?”

“Gambino? No. Poltergeists are only occupied with haunting rights.”

No idea what that meant.

“I’m not sure any mafia or goldlenders would be enough to make a resourceful person kill themselves as an alternative to jail time.”

When he put it like that. “A really powerful someone is after me.” I threaded both hands through my hair.

“I didn’t intend to scare you.”

I forced a smile. “Probably best to be a bit scared than unprepared.”

The berserker assessed me with those cool gray eyes of his. “You protected yourself well last week.”

“Thanks. Didn’t feel like it, but I did better than the previous time he attacked me.”

“That reminds me.” He reached into his coat again. Seriously, he made fun of my tote, but his jacket was just as bad.

“I brought this back for you.” He passed over the beeper. “Anytime. I mean it.”

I curled my fingers around the cool orb. “Dev? Thank you so much for coming. I thought I was a goner for sure.”

His expression turned thunderous, eyes flickering blue before he managed to wipe both away. “Don’t mention it. I’m just glad I got there in time.”

I bit my lip. “You arrived just before he threw that gate curse?”

Devereaux’s expression smoothed. “Around then, yes.”

My stomach churned. What did that mean? He’d just put on his detective face.

“Can I admit that I didn’t just come here tonight to discuss the case?” he said.

Oh?

I tucked my wavy ash-blonde hair behind my ear. “You didn’t?”

My heart hammered.

“The other day in the carriage. We were sabotaged by that malfunctioning lantern, but you never did answer me when I asked you out.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “No, I didn’t.”

And what was my answer?

The one I desperately wanted to give him?

Or the answer I knew I should say?

“I—” I took a breath. “You’re the kind of man I usually wouldn’t hesitate to date and get to know. I think you’re superhot.” I flashed him a quick smile.

He watched me. “There’s a ‘but.’”

“But—” I clasped my hands together. “I have some other stuff going on. Things I need to figure out that will take a while. And I need to figure them out alone. That could take me a long time, and I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to wait around.” My chest tightened with an achy pain I’d never experienced.

I truly liked Devereaux. More than any other guy in my dating history—curse and precurse. I inhaled through the achiness. “How about when I’ve figured all that stuff out, I’ll look you up? And if you’re single and ready to mingle, then we’ll go on that date.”

Devereaux dipped his head to catch my gaze. “This stuff. If you’re in trouble, then I can help you.”

I swallowed. “Not trouble as such. It’s not life-threatening. Just… a lot.”

He didn’t react for a long second. “I think you’re underestimating what I’d take on to date you, but I respect that it’s your choice to make. If you change your mind, regardless of whatever else is still going on, then I hope you’ll find me. Each time we meet, I like you a little more. And—” He smiled. “I can’t remember the last time I felt that with someone.”

The vise around my heart squeezed tighter as I melted at his words.

“Excuse me. Are you Cerys Concordia?” a hotel staff member asked.

Juno’s ambrosia. I was almost nose to nose with the detective again. I straightened, looking at the genteel older man who’d just interrupted us. “Is there a problem with the noise?”

“No, ma’am. A kid just came in and left this for you.” He held out a rolled piece of parchment tied with black ribbon.

Devereaux snatched it away. He sniffed the scroll, staring intently at the parchment.

He passed it over after. “Safe.”

Eyes huge, the staff member retreated to his position behind the bar.

I pulled on the ribbon. “Who’s sending me a message? Do you think it’s related to Duke?”

I read the contents.

Miss Concordia,

Flinitinatinitans.

8 p.m.

Next Sunday.

It was signed.

Vera Calzane

I stared at the parchment in my hands, mouth bobbing.

Sweet Minerva.

“Cerys?” Devereaux asked.

Jumping, I folded the message, gaze flying upward. “Not related. Unrelated, I mean.”

His eyes narrowed.

Vera Calzane wanted to meet with me next week? I didn’t know what to feel about that. It was something though, right?

Maybe something bad.

But what if it was good?

Maybe I’d get to go out with Devereaux far sooner than I’d thought.

“Take care of yourself,” the detective said, clearly deciding not to press the matter.

How was he so freakin’ handsome? It was almost hard to look at the guy, especially with my strong suspicion that he had the quality of character to go with the extreme sexiness.

Devereaux was my new reason for fighting the curse. I’d go on a date with the detective if it was the last thing I did.

I nodded. “You betcha. And I know we’re not going to date, but please don’t be a stranger.”

He paused. “You know, maybe there’s something else you could help me with.”

“Yeah?” I’d stepped closer before I knew it.

“You didn’t recognize the bow from the cage, but maybe Jaeke’s friends would know whether or not it was his?”

“Right. Totally. I could ask them if they’d meet with you?”

The detective’s lips curved. “Actually, if you could come with me, that would be more helpful. Just to put the other cupids at ease.”

If Devereaux was inventing fake ways to spend time with me, I was one thousand percent on board. “Of course. Anything to help out.”

Raising his hand, the detective brushed his thumb over my cheekbone. And I couldn’t help myself.

I leaned into his touch.

A high-pitched whine split the air. I hadn’t even processed the sound when Devereaux tackled me to the ground.

Rolling to a halt atop him, I sucked in a breath as a silver chandelier crashed down where we’d stood a second prior.

Shit.

Crawling off the detective, I straightened my sleeve dress, putting ample distance between us. He was slower to get up, his features awash with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

Devereaux looked at me. I tried my hardest not to flinch as he moved closer, instead putting my thoughts to ghoul flakings.

Whatever they were.

The berserker peered from the chandelier to me, then to the yawning hole left in the ceiling. “You have a chandelier in your room, too, don’t you?”

“Uh… yeah?” What the heck was going through that mind of his? I could practically see the cogs turning.

“You’d moved the bed from beneath it, correct?”

I clamped my lips shut. That glitter in his eyes didn’t bode well.

The berserker dipped his head down to mine. “Do chandeliers have a habit of falling down around you, Cerys?”

“What? Chandeliers?” I laughed. “Imagine that.”

“Imagine,” he repeated in a silken voice.

I had the sinking feeling Detective Devereaux just put something together that I’d rather he hadn’t. Struck dumb, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

He tipped the brim of his invisible hat though. “Good evening, Cerys.”

I watched the detective leave, waiting until he’d reached the hotel lobby door before I whispered words he’d still hear. “Goodnight, Devereaux.”

Then, turning away, I flattened the parchment again.

Miss Concordia,

Flinitinatinitans.

8 p.m.

Next Sunday.

Vera Calzane

My hands curled to fists, the message scrunching within them

Looked like I had a date with a witch.

Cerys and Devereaux’s story continues in LOVE & MAGIC SHAKING.

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A LETTER TO A WITCH

Dear Miss Vera Calzane,

Three years ago, we met under unfortunate circumstances.

I was on a date with a man who’d recently dated you. While he’d informed me that he was single and available, having just ended a relationship, this was either not the case or you were still very hurt after parting ways with him.

You cursed me that night to never know intimacy with a man. And for three years, that curse has held.

I have not hugged a man that I’m attracted to.

I cannot allow myself to feel attraction for long or I risk unleashing life-threatening consequences.

I have not kissed a man.

I have not loved a man.

Being a cupid, I literally feel other’s heartache on a regular basis. I felt yours that night as you saw me with him. I felt your heart splinter and the pain encompass your being.

Because I’m a cupid, I know that kind of pain doesn’t go away in days or weeks; that it lingers, and that sometimes, the only positive thing to come from such pain is a lesson on who better deserves your love in the future.

I don’t expect you not to hurt over that experience anymore, but I do hope time has given you the space to emotionally heal. I hope this for you because I’m a cupid and the wellness of the heart is my entire reason for being.

And I hope this because I’m a cupid who is cursed never to know love herself. Love is who I am, and to be cut off from that portion of myself is—I truly believe—slowly draining the life from me.

I give you my word that I had no idea of the particulars between the two of you that night when I agreed to go on what was meant to be a simple date. Yet three years later, I am paying the price for your ex-boyfriend’s misdeed. Not mine.

You told me that you never wished to see me again, so I’ll send this letter in respect of that wish, to ask, to plead, that you remove the curse set upon me, so that I may live life in all its wonders again.

Respectfully and hopefully,

Cerys Concordia

LOVE & MAGIC SHAKING

MAGICAL DATING AGENCY: BOOK TWO

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HONEY & ICE TRILOGY

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BOOKS BY KELLY ST. CLARE

Magical Dating Agency (Paranormal urban romance)

Love & Curse Making

Love & Magic Shaking

Love & Heart Braking

Honey & Ice Trilogy (Fae adventure romance)

A Court of Honey & Ash

A Throne of Feathers & Bone

A Crown of Petals & Ice

Supernatural Battle

Vampire Towers (Paranormal urban romance)

Blood Trial

Vampire Debt

Death Game

Werewolf Dens (Paranormal urban romance)

Shifter Wars

Moon Claimed

Wolf Roulette

The Darkest Drae (Dragon shifter romance)

with Raye Wagner

Blood Oath

Shadow Wings

Black Crown

The Tainted Accords (Royal fantasy romance):

Fantasy of Frost

Fantasy of Flight

Fantasy of Fire

Fantasy of Freedom

Novellas:

Sin

Olandon

Rhone

Shard

Pirates of Felicity (Pirate fantasy romance):

Immortal Plunder

Stolen Princess

Pillars of Six

Dynami’s Wrath

Veritas

Eternal Gambit

Mortal Trinity

Last Battle for Earth (Dystopian romance):

Earth’s Warrior

Rebel’s Crusade

Traitor’s Mandate

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