“Seems like you’d blow their cover,” Krys went on. “The accent, the eyes, the teeth.”
Peter shrugged. “It’s the twenty-first century. Implants are all the rage, and nobody cares. Honestly. People just think I’m a goth.”
Archer tried to pick up a can, but it was glued to the shelf.
“These are props.” Peter pointed at the cans lining the shelves. “Empty. We had to glue them to the shelves because they used to tumble about. One man tried pitching them at a Councilman. In case you’re wondering, chili leaves a dent.”
The empty wall behind Peter moved up, and as the elevator slowed, the wall opened to a large waiting room.
Peter ran his hand down his chest. “Put in a good word for me and suggest that I should wear pajama bottoms.”
The group stepped out.
As the elevator rose, Peter dropped to the floor and whispered through the closing gap, “And tell them I need a pet cat.”
Straight ahead was a desk, but no one was sitting behind it. Cameras were on the ceiling; there were chairs on the left and a few by the elevator, and two offices to the right. The brown carpet beneath their feet looked old and had a few mystery stains on it.
When one of the doors opened, Eden Thompson—a local Council member—greeted them. “Gentlemen, thank you for coming on short notice.”
The door clicked shut.
They had met her before, and she was also the one who made mating ceremonies official.
Tak bowed at the pretty, dark-haired woman. Archer had seen all kinds of unusual eyes in the Breed world, but the brown shade of her skin paired with the fiery color of her luminous orange eyes was a beautiful combination. Despite her shiny lip gloss and flawless eye shadow, her look was minimal. But judging by her manicured nails, which were painted blue to match her shirt, she wasdefinitely a woman who took pride in her appearance. Eden was a tall woman Archer pegged at around five-ten without heels. Had she been born human, she could have been a model.
“Is this everyone?” she asked.
“Except one.” Montana removed his hat. “My mate was there, but she dove into the bathroom as soon as he shifted. We saw the same thing until she wasn’t in the room anymore. I can call her if?—”
“No need.” Eden walked over to the desk and sat on the edge. “I spoke to your beta on the phone just now and understand you need him at home to manage the pack in your absence. And you know I already spoke with Mercy and Calvin this morning when I drove to the bar to collect witness statements. Tell me every detail of what you saw involving Mr. Noah Miller.”
“Do you want to question us separately?” Tak inquired.
She canted her head. “If I think you’re lying, I’ll call Peter in here. But I don’t see a motive. There were plenty of witnesses at the bar, and I can corroborate your testimony against theirs. Let’s begin, shall we?”
After each ofthem recounted every detail of the attack, leaving nothing out, Eden walked into her office to fetch a cup of coffee. She offered them some, but they declined. Archer had one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t a cappuccino.
Eden sipped her coffee from behind her desk, taking notes and asking unexpected and detailed questions, like whether there were children in the bar and what type of injuries Noah had on him before shifting.
“You mentioned the attack started in her bookstore,” Eden said. “Does she have any footage? It’s come to my attention that she has cameras in a public place.”
“Those were installed by Lucian, one of my packmates,” Takexplained. “Because they’re in a public place, they’re not set to record. It’s a direct feed to Noah’s phone so he can check in.” Furrowing his brow, Tak asked, “Do you need evidence?”
Eden set down her cup. “No. I just have to make sure we don’t have recordings floating around. The higher authority has more procedures than you gentlemen care to hear. It just means I have less paperwork to file. Now I have to figure out how to handle this.”
“I have a few ideas.” Tak patted the blade on his hip.
Eden folded her arms. “Truth be told, I would have no trouble forgetting Mr. Miller was in that cell for a few years. But my hands are tied. We have guidelines on what earns a spot in a cell. We have prisoners serving anywhere from thirty to ninety-five years. Some await transport if it falls out of our jurisdiction or the Mageri wants to handle it, for instance.” She scratched the back of her head. “I think it would be fair to keep him here long enough for the woman?—”
“Cecilia,” Archer added, then realized he didn’t know her last name.
“Thank you, yes. Cecilia,” Eden said. “Long enough for her to find a place and gather her belongings. According to the prisoner, the house is in his name, so my hands are tied with property distribution. That’s unfortunate for her, but I can assure you that Mr. Miller will be banished from this town after that incident at the bar. Public intoxication of a predator species, reckless endangerment in the presence of minors, attempted murder, destruction of property?—”
“Which property?” Montana asked. “I don’t remember him doing anything other than knocking over a few tables.”
Eden cupped her hand at the side of her mouth and said, “The more I can add to his report, the better.” She lowered her hand. “Unfortunately, my seniors care more about property than people.” She leaned back in her chair and rocked. “We havewitness statements that suggest he has a drinking problem, and because he’s demonstrated that he’ll shift in a public setting, that makes him a menace to society. All I can do is exile him from Storybook, but unfortunately for the victim, if she moves on elsewhere, she won’t be under our protection. If that’s her decision, have her come see me. I know a few contacts who can help her with a safe place and reidentification.”
Archer’s stomach knotted at the idea of Cecilia leaving, but he had to support whichever choice made her feel safe.
