Page 37

“You’re spiraling.” Cillian reached over and took the grinder away. “Ethan’s not running. He could’ve left after the warehouse. Instead, he’s in the library going over even more evidence with Julian. You’d swear, watching them, it’s like they both see the whole situation as a research project.”

Because that was exactly what Ethan thought it was. Rook had watched him examine the ward patterns with the same interest he probably applied to tracking Brad Hutchins’s escalating harassment. But it worried him because Ethan was showing no fear or revulsion, and yet, with his history…

Rook pushed that thought away. He loved how Ethan preferred to study something until it made sense to him. Predictable patterns helped his mate stay safe, and Rook needed to remember that.

“Thorn almost got him killed.”

“Thorn made a tactical decision. Ethan made a different one.” Cillian started measuring fresh grounds into the press. “And your mate was right - humans could walk through those wards as if they weren’t even there, and yet Thorn was burned just touching them.”

Your mate. Rook had stopped listening the moment Cillian said those words. Ethan was more than a beacon, he was also a mate, and while Rook knew they were usually the same thing…the term mate just seemed to resonate more. Ethan was the person his shadows reached for, and that meant everything.

“I wanted to kiss him.”

“I noticed. So did everyone within a three-block radius.” Cillian poured hot water over the grounds. “I liked the way your shadows were actively constructing a privacy barrier. That was classy.”

“They weren’t…” Rook stopped and thought about it for a moment. His shadows had absolutely been attempting to shield them and give them some privacy. “Damn it.”

“For what it’s worth, he wanted you to.” Cillian pressed the plunger down slowly. “He moved closer. That’s significant for someone who doesn’t like being touched.”

Rook’s shadows perked up, interested. He forced them to settle before they started making plans. “He hasn’t processed what the mate bond means yet.”

“Neither have you, apparently, or you wouldn’t be destroying coffee beans.” Cillian pulled two mugs from the cabinet - the blue one Ethan had used earlier and Rook’s usual black. “He’s a clever man, Rook. He’ll figure it out. And based on tonight’s demonstration, he’s perfectly capable of telling you if he objects.”

Which was also very true. If Ethan didn’t want Rook’s attention, he’d say so with footnotes and supporting documentation.

“I should take him his coffee.”

“Now there’s a radical concept, doing something your mate asked you to do.” Cillian handed over both mugs. “Try not to break anything on the way there.”

Rook made it to the library without incident, though his shadows kept trying to taste the air around Ethan’s coffee mug as if they could pre-screen it for threats. Julian and Ethan sat at the main research table, Julian’s laptop open between them, both staring at a schematic of some kind.

“The pattern repeats here,” Ethan was saying, tapping the screen. “Same interval as the disappearances - forty-eight hours post-council meeting. But Voss left before we moved on the warehouse. So either…”

“Someone warned him,” Julian finished, “or he was warned to leave as part of a larger contingency plan.”

“Which means information leaked.” Ethan sat back, frowning. “The question is whether it leaked from you” - he gestured at Julian - “from the police response, or from somewhere else entirely.”

Rook set the blue mug next to Ethan’s elbow. Ethan glanced up, and his expression softened fractionally. “Thank you.”

“Partners,” Rook said, because he couldn’t help himself. Honestly, it was the first word that came to mind.

Ethan’s mouth curved, not quite a smile, but close enough that Rook’s shadows did a victory lap around the table legs. “Partners who bring coffee are significantly better than partners who don’t.”

“I’ll add it to my list of critical skills.” Rook pulled out the chair next to Ethan and sat close enough that their shoulders almost touched. His shadows immediately wrapped around the chair legs and Ethan’s ankles, creating a connection point that made Rook’s entire nervous system relax. “What did you find?”

“A pattern that doesn’t make sense.” Ethan pulled up another window, showing what looked like property records. “Julian accessed the city database…”

“Legally,” Julian interjected.

“…and found twelve properties owned by shell companies connected to Ashford. Six are active commercial real estate. Three are the trafficking sites you have already identified. Two are abandoned. And one” - Ethan highlighted an address - “sold four months ago to a private buyer. No public record of who.”

“That’s unusual,” Rook said slowly.

“That should be impossible,” Julian corrected. “Property transfers require public documentation. But this one has a records seal that requires council approval to access.”

Rook’s mind caught up. “As in Ashford, who sits on the city council.”

“And who can apparently approve his own record seals.” Ethan took a long drink of his coffee. “Which means he sold something he wanted hidden to someone he trusts enough to help cover the transfer.”