Axel lived in Dark Forest Pack territory, and while not a true member of Rys Calder’s pack, there was a connection between him and the alpha. I’d felt it earlier. As a rule, the fae weren’t encouraged to share information about our realm, or our magical capabilities with other non-humans. Not if we could avoid it. I wondered if that still held true for Axel. “What about Rys Calder?”
“What about him?”
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Come on, cousin. I know he thinks of you as one of his own.”
“He does.” Axel’s smile was immediate and soft in a way I wasn’t expecting. And it set alarm bells off. Was Axel considering staying for good? You needed special permission for something like that, and the high court wasn’t always inclined to give it. The worry must’ve shown on my face because Axel’s smile dimmed.
“Don’t look at me like that. I know my time here will eventually end, but that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it to the full while I’m here.” Before I could comment, he added, “And enough about me. What are your plans? I assume you’ll want a lift to the police station?”
Oh.
Transport.
Admittedly, that wasn’t something I’d given much thought to.
Axel smirked. “I’m assuming you can’t drive?”
“No.” This wasn’t my first trip through a gateway, far from it, but I’d never stayed long enough to warrant learning. Maybe this time I would? We’d have to see. “So yes, I would like a lift to the police station tomorrow morning. If you’re free?”
“I am.”
“Perfect.”
* * *
Nick
I stared at the email for the hundredth time, still unsure how I felt about it. With Zane currently under investigation for his role in the whole Tombs thing, he’d signed the club over to me in his absence.
I didn’t understand a lot of the legal stuff in it, but essentially, I was now in charge. If I wanted to be.
And that was the crux of it.
I’d liked Zane, looked up to him. He’d taken me in and given me a job when he knew I’d been in trouble with the witches’ council. Knew that I’d been sent up north for questionable behaviour that caused a lot of witches to look down on me.
With good reason. Those last couple of years in Cornwall hadn’t been my finest moments. In hindsight, I could see how I’d left my coven no choice, but at the time I’d been thoroughly pissed off at them and everything else.
I glanced down at the small tattoo on my inner wrist and ran a thumb over it. I’d been reckless and stupid, and I’d paid the price.
Zane had ignored my attitude and given me a chance. One I’d gratefully taken, and I’d worked my way up to the position I had now.
Or had, up until that email arrived.
The point was, Zane had become my friend. I liked him a lot, and I still did, despite what he’d done. Couldn’t help it. But I was so fucking angry at him, it made my blood boil.
And now he wanted me to take over his business.
Indefinitely.
Because although there were extenuating circumstances—Tombs had threatened Zane’s family, for fuck’s sake—he’d still used his magic to cause harm and non-humans had almost died as a result. Even if the police dropped all charges, which I doubted would happen, he’d still have to answer to the witches’ council.
Fuck.
Did I want to stay involved with all of that?
The email had come through yesterday morning, and I was still no closer to deciding over twenty-four hours later. I liked working at Midnight, loved it even, but taking over the place was a huge step up from my role as assistant manager. And what happened when/if he got out of whatever prison they sent him to?
Did I just hand it over and go back to what I was before?
