Page 86 of Werewolves and Witches AU

Guardian continues. “But in her complaint, she gave up some extra intel that I thought might be useful to your Magpie.”

My Magpie? I open my mouth to rebuke him for that, then decide against it. The less the Dogs know, the less ribbing they’ll give me over it. They can be… relentless. “Oh, aye?”

“She reports that in the last half a century, Janus has become gradually more distant, and in line with that, the management of their department has become harder. More and more tasks have fallen to her in his absence. While the department of Transitions still meets deadlines, missed meetings mean that the seasons have gradually slipped into the wrong months, and because he pissed off Fortuna, she’s reduced their trade. This reduction in luck translates to the general passage of time becoming more noticeable to humans, and there’s a corresponding increase in the number of hardship complaints.”

The inner political workings of the Office of Time are beyond my scope of interest. “I don’t see how this—”

“Because Anna Perenna is fed up with doing Janus’s job without the perks and recognition. With new management comes new opportunities, and given Magpie’s abilities, he’d make a good liaison between the Dogs and the Office of Time. Just a parting recommendation.”

“Guardian—” But the timer on the oven pings loudly.

“I’ll miss your food, Ranger. And as an Ethiopian-American, I don’t say that lightly.”

“Double choc chip cookies aren’t ye thing.”

Guardian chuckles once more. “No. You’re right. They’re not yours either, so my guess is they’re for Magpie.”

“Ye’ve got less than five minutes until comms live.”

“You’re still my CO, so I’ll let you call that, but as you’re also about to not be my CO, then I’m going to suggest you fix whatever you did that means you’re stress-baking at midnight. Magpie’s a Dog, Ranger.”

“He—”

“The first few minutes of meeting him, you remember what Bear did?”

I remove the baking sheet from the oven and set the cookies on a cooling rack. “He took his phone to clone it.”

“He did, and then Magpie…”

“Shook his hand.” I finish his sentence.

“Bear would sooner stab someone than shake their hand.”

Exhaling, I scrub my hand over my face.

I fucked up with Milo, but there’s no way I’m admitting that to Guardian. “Two minutes.”

“Two minutes.”

“I want a full debrief.”

“The moment I have it, you’ll have it.”

“And Guardian…”

“Yeah. I know. Thanks, Ranger.” Guardian ends the call.

I brace my fists on the counter, and inhale. Immediately, my wolf switches focus from his pack to his… Milo.

The shower is still running. I frown. That’s a very long shower.

Pushing closer to the surface, my wolf easily determines the steady patter of the water from any other ambient sounds as he searches for Milo’s vitals. What if Milo passed out after his spell cast? What if he hit his head, and is up there bleeding in the stall while I cower in the kitchen?

Guardian’s words run through my mind. “He’s a Dog, Ranger.”

If Milo is a Dog, then I wouldn’t snoop on him with my wolf from another room; I’d let him sleep it off or go kick in the bathroom door.

My wolf emits a low and rumbling growl that vibrates my bones—he can’t find a heartbeat.