Page 95

The vampire signs with a flourish, then slides an envelope across the desk. "Here is your retainer fee and the building access codes for the vault in the basement of the Millennium Tower."

After he leaves, I lean back in my chair to study the signed contract. "I actually missed this line of work."

"Did you miss dealing with paranoid vampires?"

"I missed having people trust me enough to ask for my help. The only clients who'd work with me in the past were desperate people with nowhere else to turn, but now they're coming to me first."

"They finally understand what I figured out months ago."

"What did you figure out?"

Darius crosses to my desk, bracing his hands on either side of my chair. "Underneath all the magic and Crowe family chaos, you're a woman who genuinely gives a damn about protecting people."

The afternoon sun catches the metal in my jewelry as I reach up to touch his face. "Do you think you can handle being professionally associated with Chicago's most notorious witch family?"

"I think I can manage."

I extend my hand across the desk, letting a grin tug at the corner of my mouth. "Are we partners?"

Darius reaches out and takes my hand, his calloused fingers wrapping around mine with that familiar warmth that continues to send electricity up my arm. "We will always be partners."

The promise carries significance after surviving blood moon rituals and rebuilding our trust from the ashes. We've forged something that works for us, even if it would probably give relationship counselors nightmares.

We bicker endlessly about case priorities or whether I need backup for routine consultations. Our arguments crackle as tension builds between us, usually ending with one of us pinned against the nearest wall, breathing hard and forgetting what we were even fighting about. I get a particular edge to my voice when Darius becomes too protective, and his whole body stiffens whenever he thinks I'm acting recklessly.

The door chimes again, interrupting my thoughts about exactly how spectacular last night's makeup session was after our disagreement about security protocols.

A lean man with golden skin strides through my door, his fluid movements and feline presence marking him as a big cat shifter. His dark hair is perfectly styled, and his expensive cologne mixes with the wild musk that clings to all shifters. When he smiles, it's all white teeth and calculated charm.

"Ms. Serenity Crowe." He extends a manicured hand, letting his fingers linger against mine longer than necessary. "I’m Diego Cozel, and I've been hoping to meet Chicago's most intriguing witch."

I catch Darius straightening in my peripheral vision, already anticipating Diego's every movement. The temperature in the room drops about ten degrees, which means Darius is not impressed by the newcomer's approach.

"Hello, Mr. Cozel. What brings you to my office?" I keep my voice professional, though I can't help noticing how Diego's gaze appreciates the jewelry at my throat.

"I have a delicate matter requiring someone with your particular talents." Diego's accent has enough Latin heat to be distracting. "Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner since I know this excellent place⁠—"

"My mate and I prefer to handle consultations during business hours."

The icy remark cuts through Diego's pitch. Darius pushes off the doorframe, moving to stand directly behind my chair. His presence radiates territorial possession so thick I'm surprised it doesn't trigger the fire alarms.

Diego's smile falters for exactly half a second before he smoothly restores it. "You have a mate. How fortunate for you both."

I huff a quiet breath at Darius's display, even as warmth spreads through my chest at the casual claim. He's been implementing this routine with every male client who so much as compliments my investigative skills. He pulled a similar stunt last week when a vampire asked if I was free for coffee.

"Mr. Cozel, why don't we move to the consultation area, where you can explain your situation properly." I gesture toward the chairs, shooting Darius a look that's equal parts exasperation and secret delight.

Diego recovers his composure, his movements fluid and catlike as he settles into the client chair while his eyes continue assessing me. "I represent certain business interests that have been experiencing... supernatural interference."

"What kind of interference?" I reference my notepad, acutely aware of Darius positioning himself where he can watch both the door and Diego's hands.

"Someone's been manipulating luck charms at several establishments I oversee. Customers are winning jackpots that should be statistically impossible; dealers are experiencing unprecedented losing streaks."

Diego leans forward slightly, lowering into an intimate register. "I need someone clever enough to trace magical sabotage and beautiful enough to blend in at high-stakes tables."

The low, warning rumble from Darius's chest makes Diego's pupils dilate as he suddenly grows wary.

"I’m sure Ms. Crowe can handle the investigation, a task well within her capabilities even from afar. Magical trace work rarely requires undercover operations."