The scent of steel cleaved the air. Saros’s hackles were raised.
“Fair enough,” Aleander conceded, lifting a hand. “Maybe it’s time to break out your Recollection and do a little in-depth prodding into the Wellses’ last year?”
“No,” Saros snipped, before clamping his mouth shut.
Aleander shut the file quickly, pushing it off to the side and leaning forward, elbows perched on the desk with his hands clasped. The temperature in the room dialed up a few notches, frustration radiating off our handler in orange fumes that wafted in Saros’s direction.
I cleared my throat, trying to rid myself of the thickness swirling in the tiny room. “They are aware of Saros’s gift and have made it clear they will get legal involved if any action is taken.”
“They are convicted felons at this point. Who would believe them?” Aleander nodded to Saros. “If they aren’t willing to tell us the truth and we need it, it’s simple enough. You’ve done it hundreds of times before.”
“Absolutely not.”
I swear my jaw dropped straight to the floor. Saros never took a tone like that with Aleander, at least not in front of me. But I’d seen the pale-blue shame that trailed behind him every time he’d used his Recollection like this.
He never talked about it, and he sure as fuck never openly defied our handler.
“Are we certain Aurora’s connected to the disappearances?” I offered, trying to dissipate the red curls of angry smoke beginning to cloud the air between us.
Aleander’s attention narrowed on me. “She killed Acacia Mirabel. Acacia was looking into the disappearances. Those dots are already connected, we just need the how and why.”
“What was a geologist doing looking into people going missing from a suburban neighborhood?” Saros asked, brow buckling in concentration as he probably flitted through files and files of information in his head.
Must be nice to have a photographic memory.
“I’d love to know that as well,” Aleander continued, the red coils of smoke starting to thin. “Unfortunately, we can’t interview the dead.”
“Shouldn’t we exhaust the other avenues first, sir, before moving to something soextreme?” I asked, ready to get out of there and into some fresh air, even if it was just to walk the five minutes across the courtyard to our room.
“It’ll only beextremeif they have something to hide. We’ve given them multiple opportunities to talk. Every time we have to sweep these cases out of the public eye, it threatens to come out and make us look bad. No one wants to feel unsafe in a supernatural neighborhood. They had enough of that in the mortal world.” Aleander’s hands clenched into tight fists, pinned onto the open case file in front of him. “Now, Agent Holt, which one should I have brought downstairs first for you to work on?”
Saros was nearly enveloped in a crimson cloud, but I cut in before he could respond. “Get us back into the field. We can do more interviews, check out Hunter Astro’s house, see if there’s anything from when he went missing that we overlooked.”
“Let me remind you, Agent Holt,” Aleander gritted out at Saros, ignoring me, “I put myself on the line to get you out in the field. The higher-ups were content to keep you here, doing what was needed.”
Saros swallowed hard, the ball in his throat turning.
“Think about it.” Aleander lifted the file in front of him. “We have a lot of pressure on us to make this go away quickly. If it continues or gets worse, more supernaturals will feel the need to live among the mortals again. That puts usallat risk.”
Saros’s chair scraped the floor, giving me a tight nod before leaving the room.
Shaking his head, Aleander turned his attention to me. “Agent Carver, I hope you can get your partner in line.”
“Get us back into the field.” I knew how bad Saros wanted to return to Celestial Haven. To see this case through and see Oakley again—even if he wouldn’t admit the latter. “I’m banking there’s more intel we can grab there. Maybe something to get the Wellses talking.”
“I’ll consider it. But if I do send you, I need assurances there will be results. Otherwise, we do things my way. It’s been over a year and we have nothing to show for it other than a dead body and the scandal of a highly respected couple being arrested.” Then Aleander waved toward the door, effectively dismissing me. “Thank Goddess Archon Thorne will be there. You’re lucky he’s personally overseeing this case.”
I nodded at him, before rushing after Saros, our handler’s final words replaying in my ear with each step.
Luckywasn’t the first word that came to mind.
Chapter3
Oakley
When we pulled up, Atlas was already standing outside the pumpkin patch. He walked over donning a pair of dark denim pants and a maroon-and-black flannel shirt, two cardboard cups in his hands.
Goddess above.
