No, it wasn’t luck, and it wasn’t a guess. I recognized the scent from the apartment where I’d met the Premier.
This was Sage’s.
I opened the bag and a wave hit me, causing my teeth and cock to ache all over again.
Ravaric, her scent was really doing something for me. Doing somethingtome. It was old and faded, so much so that I couldn’t even pick out the notes. Something fruity, a hint of floral…
But damn. Too good.
I shook my head to clear it, trying to rationalize the reaction. She was cute, had a nice omega smell that appealed to me, and the more I heard about her, the more she seemed like the kind of woman I’d go for—if her capture wasn’t going to make me insanely rich. Adding all that into the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid in far too long, it wasn’t surprising my body was confused.
Yes, that was it.
I pulled out a vinyl wallet, the front decorated with a picture of a cartoon cat from some animated show I’d maybe watched once or twice, and then checked the ID inside just to make sure it was hers. Even though I already knew whose bag I was holding.
“I need to keep this,” I said, holding it up to show the woman I had the right purse.
She shrugged. “Fine by me. And look, no offense, but if you’re done here, can you go out the back on your way out? You’ll scare the potential clients.”
Typical. I was good enough for a closet quickie, but not good enough to go out the front door.
I zipped up the bag and followed her directions to the employee entrance, having to walk the long way around to get to my car in the front anyway. Placing it on the seat next to me as I got in, I stared at it for moment, letting everything I’d just learned soak in. The scent was beginning to seep into the enclosed air around me, so I rolled down the window and lit a roll of vaporleaf after putting the keys in the ignition, not turning them yet as I thought.
The facts as I had them so far painted two very different pictures of Sage Hexwood. First was the possibly ill yet industrious witch omega college student who came from meager means. She was well-liked by her professors and had plans for creating her own app to help her fellow witches after graduation. She had a beta boyfriend, a merfolk best friend, liked video games and tabletop RPGs, and worked a part-time job passing flutes of blood to the vampire upper crust.
Then there was the Sage Hexwood who was paranoid enough to erase her online presence. Resourceful enough to live off the grid for the past five years. Depraved enough to possibly kill those who knew her best. And wily enough to skip town with something so valuable, the vampire Premier himself was willing to pay millions to get it back.
Everyone had secrets, and I knew things weren’t always as they appeared. Even I was no stranger to reinventing myself—Garrick would probably shit a brick if he knew anything about the life I’d lived before I’d started working for him.
But for some reason, I just couldn’t reconcile these two versions of Sage in my head—the cute, kinda dorky student with the hardened, bloodthirsty femme fatale. And the only person who could help me do so was the cagey motherfucker who’d hired me.
I gritted my teeth, taking out my phone to call Garrick. I hated when my clients never gave me the whole story. All it did was make my job unnecessarily harder.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Did you find her already?” he asked, sounding entirely too eager for the payout.
I sighed. “No. I need to talk to the Premier.”
He whistled on the other end. “No can do. He made it very clear to me that he doesn’t want to hear from us again until you’ve got the bounty, ready to be delivered.”
After hanging up, a grumble in my throat turned into a low growl. I understood that he was a busy guy. Not only was he the Premier of Noctis, but I vaguely remembered something about him having had a kid recently. The last thing he probably wanted to do was chat on the phone about his weird connection to another woman, especially with a postpartum alpha werewolf for a wife. She’d likely be feasting on his balls the next full moon if she knew about any of this.
But if he wanted her found so quickly, why all the secrecy? I’d be all that much further ahead if he’d given me every detail I was just going to uncover anyway.
I took out her wallet again, sliding her ID out of its pocket.
This was hers. She’d held this. I didn’t know why, but it made it feel special. Maybe I’d keep this when it was all over, like as a souvenir.
No, wait, that was creepy as fuck.
Her address was somewhere in the non-citizen district, but the sun was coming up soon and if I didn’t get some sleep, I’d likely run my car off the road and die in a fiery crash. And then I’d never find out what happened to Sage, or get my money.
Wondering which would be worse, I booked a room at the closest hotel I could find on my phone. Before I turned the keyin the ignition, I decided to check my email, and sitting pretty in my inbox was a message from Professor Howland.
I tapped it open, my heart pounding.
Dear Mr. Blackthorne,
