Maren stepped closer, her shadows reaching toward him before she'd consciously commanded them. They wound around his wrists gently, offering comfort in the only language they knew.
"I'm sorry," she said. "For whoever you lost that made you carry that kind of guilt."
"Don't be sorry. Just let me do my job." Tristan's hand lifted, hovering near her face before dropping back to his side. "Three days to find proof. Then you're free of all this."
Free of the accusations, maybe. Free of him?
The thought made her cringe with distaste. Her reaction made it clear what she wanted.
"Three days," Maren agreed.
They rode to the safe house in silence, surrounded by falling snow and unspoken words that felt heavier than any accusation the town could level.
17
TRISTAN
Tristan dropped Maren at the Book Nook just after dawn, snow still falling in the gray light.
Lucien met them at the door, dark hair tied back, green eyes sharp and assessing. The panther shifter moved with predatory grace even while doing something as mundane as holding a door open.
"She'll be safe here," Lucien said, more statement than reassurance. "I'm on guard rotation today anyway. Might as well watch someone who actually needs watching."
"Council approved this?" Tristan asked.
"Emmett did. Figured keeping her locked in the safe house wasn't helping your investigation." Lucien stepped aside, letting Maren pass into the warmth of the shop. "Moira's got more research to do. Historical texts, magical precedents, that sort of thing. Extra set of eyes won’t hurt."
Tristan looked at Maren, who'd already moved toward the back of the shop where Moira was likely buried in archives. Her shadows spread over the floor, relaxed in a way they rarely were anywhere else.
"You good here?" he asked.
"I'm fine. Go do your investigation." She glanced back, silver eyes meeting his. "Find something we can use."
The door closed behind him, and Tristan stood for a moment in the falling snow, trying to shake the feeling that leaving her was a mistake. Lucien was capable, the Book Nook was warded, and Maren could use the space, but it still felt wrong.
He forced himself to turn toward the square, pulling out his notebook. He needed more evidence and in a considerably shorter time frame than previously.Today needed to count.
The Mercantile was his first stop. Rufus had been one of the few people showing Maren any decency, which made him worth talking to properly.
Rufus stood behind the counter sorting inventory, his rugged features neutral when Tristan entered.
"Morning, Officer. Here about the window?"
"And anything else you've noticed." Tristan moved to examine the cracked glass, pulling out a small leather pouch of tools. "Walk me through the incident. Everything you remember."
"Lantern exploded around midnight. Cold fire, just like at the forge. Frost everywhere, glass cracked from the inside out." Rufus joined him at the window. "I was in the back room doing books. Heard the crack, came running, found this."
Tristan scraped residue from the frost pattern into a vial. Under magnification, it would show magical composition, maybe point to specific spell work. "You see anyone outside beforehand? Hear anything unusual?"
"Nothing. But I was focused on numbers, not paying attention to the street." Rufus paused. "For what it's worth, the more I look at it and really think, the more I don't think Maren did this."
"Why not?"
"Because she's had two years to cause trouble if she wanted to. Why start now?" Rufus crossed his arms. "Seems more likely someone's trying to make it look like her work, like Emmett said."
"You're one of the few people willing to agree with that out loud."
"Most people are scared. Scared makes folks stupid." Rufus's expression hardened. "But I've been around long enough to recognize a setup when I see one. Someone wants her gone. Question is who and why."
