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“This seems reasonable…” I signed the paper as he watched me with glee.

“And that saved me about half a million dollars. Woo!” Mesmer snatched the paper away from me, and I blanched as he opened the door and leaned out. An embarrassed huff responded too close to the room. “Oh, Zeeeeke!”

“What?” Zeke’s flat tones belied no humor.

“Lex and I just pulled out the sweetest cat from a book and he wants to keep it, let it sleep in your bed.” Mesmer put a cute little coo into his voice. “Isn’t that so sweet?”

“If there’s a cat in my bed, I’m on the fucking couch.” Zeke’s flat voice held a strong note of seriousness.

“What’s his problem with cats?” I asked in a sharp whisper.

“Ask him about the Cheshire Cat from that original Carroll manuscript.” Mesmer snickered. “But yeah, it’s love. He’d have broken up with you on the spot if he thought there was a cat in your house. If it were fake, he’d have slept with the cat.”

“There better not be a cat in there. Please, for the love of—” Zeke pushed his head in and sighed in relief.

“I was just extorting some favors. You know, you really have a type, don’t you?” Mesmer grinned, eyes crinkling only a little at the corners.

Zeke glanced from me to Mesmer with a guilty expression. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Dark-haired twinks? Type C personalities.” He ticked off his fingers.

“Who are you calling a type C? I’m a type A!” I stood and huffed.

“Combative, aaaand a little bitchy.” He gave me a glance up and down.

“Takes one to know one.” I folded my arms.

Mesmer gestured at me.

Yeah…I could see it.

“Anyway, Lexi. I’m going to be by weekly to check on your development to see when I can cash in on those favors.” He twiddled his fingers at me and straightened his outfit.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Jess threw a wad of paper from the desk as Mesmer took his first step out of the room. In return, he pinned her with a vicious glare that had me shrinking back and Zeke giving me a you’re on your own look.

“I got three favors, in writing, from a really high-skill-level requisitor. What more do I need?” His upper lip twitched.

“Uh, check and make sure he’s actually pregnant. See if the little guy is healthy? I dunno.” Jess shrugged and huffed. “Because I was about to dive into another book to do the whole checkup thing on my own.”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” Mesmer sighed. “Actually, let’s just dive.”

“I got the perfect one! It’s a Lillith Blazer novel about two starstruck nurses. Totally a deus. The book and series flopped. I dove in and there’s almost no side characters and I can just flit around the whole hospital as I please.” Jess bounced in her seat.

“How long have you spent in this world?” Mesmer’s eye twitched.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “May have…graduated medical school?”

Mesmer sighed. “How often are heats?”

“Just estrus, mild, nothing insane—too tame for me, really. You scent your mate and it’s in the stars, fated-type shit, no marking.” Jess ticked off on her fingers. “Five-month gestation, potential for multiples, two to three estrus cycles a year depending on what species your genes are strongest in. Rectal birth.”

“Shifters?” Mesmer glanced over curiously as Jess pulled a book out of her bag and waved it.

“Only the alphas and betas. Omegas are stationary.” She beamed.

“Anything weird in this world? Telepathy? Magic?” Mesmer stared down, and I took the time to study a rather generic cover of a man in profile biting into an apple with the silhouette of a hospital carved into the side.

“Uhhh, hmmm…” Jess drummed her fingers. “Oh! In this world, coriander is banned like, it’s illegal. It can drive omegas into heat and weird shit.”