Page 20 of The Rut in the Road

“And you’d know where she was,” he said, and he sounded amused.

“I mean, yes, I would,” I replied, a little confused. “But I was thinking that I would know that she was actually makinga difference, instead of doing something that only made things worse.”

Ward grimaced. “And that,” he replied.

I knew he was thinking—as I was—about a news story that Mason and Beck had been discussing that morning about a law suit that the Arcanid-Arc-human Rights League was pursuing against multiple states that were enacting legislation against Arcanids. Virginia’s laws weren’t all that bad, considering—we had a shifter registry and a ban on vampires and ghouls working in medical contexts, but our Assembly had just narrowly down-voted a bill that would have banned predatory Arcanids from working with children in any context.

Similar laws had recently passed in Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Utah, Idaho, and Indiana, and the AARL was suing all five states, plus Florida, which had passed a ban onallArcanids from working with children under fourteen.

The problem wasn’t the AARL, who were going through legal channels, but the Arc-Arcanid Equality Initiative, a more home-grown, but still national, organization that encouraged protests, rallies, marches, and flyering, all of which were fine, although they tended to get more push-back than the AARL from organizations like the Magic Free Movement and Humans First. The Richmond branch of the AAEI, however, had some more radical members whose advocacy included graffiti, throwing bricks through the windows of anti-Arcanid businesses—the kind who put “No Nids Allowed” signs in their windows—and the incident that had gotten them in the news this morning. Specifically, sending a feces-bomb to the governor’s office with a note that read “Anti-Arcane Legislation is Bullshit!”

While I agreed with the sentiment, the idea that Violette might end up working with a group that might get her arrested or killed because she was sending people feces-bombs made me nervous. She was passionate enough about Arc-Arcanid rightsthat I could see her being willing to push a lot of limits, and I really didn’t want her to get arrested or hurt.

“Ask her,” Ward said. “If you’re willing to share the hours because Hart and Raj are going to drag you off to poke things, I’m happy to pay her to cover your shifts here, and I’m sure Mason will talk her ear off about the history of Arc-Arcanid rights.”

I smiled. “I—” I almost said I ‘appreciated’ it, but Violette’s snarky thoughts about our mother made me change my mind. “—will let her know,” I said, instead. “And thank you. It means a lot.”

Ward smiled back. “It’ll be good to grow the team,” he replied cheerfully. “Now that you’re taking on actual case-work.”

“Ohmigod,yes, obviously!”Violette more or less shrieked into my ear over the phone when I called her on my walk to get coffee and donuts at Ward’s request because he was exhausted and needed more than black coffee—apparently having two small children in the house on top of Jackson was costing the whole household a lot of sleep—and, besides, he had the feeling we were both going to need the sugar once Hart got a hold of Maza’s hit-and-run case. “Yes, I want to work at your super-awesome Arc-Arcanid-owned badass business that works with the FB-fucking-I! Oh myGod, you are the best brotherever!”

I’d laughed at that, since obviously I wasn’t, but I was pleased that she was excited about it. And that Ward seemed to think that adding Violette to the company was a good idea. I’d been feeling a little guilty about the fact that when Hart or Maza needed me to work a case, I got pulled away from the front desk, which was technically still my job, even though—as Wardreminded me when I’d mentioned it to him—the police or the FBI were paying for me to work for them, so it wasn’t costing the company anything more than they’d have been paying me if I hadn’t taken on cases.

I gave her Ward’s contact information—his direct email, not the generic company one—and told her to work out a schedule with him, and also to please not offend my boss.

She’d laughed. “C’mon, Rayn. He rescued you from the hell-hole. He can’t be that stuffy.”

I didn’t tell her that Ward wasn’t stuffy at all. She’d figure that out for herself pretty quick.

I walked back to work, carrying the coffee and donuts and walking quickly to make sure the coffee didn’t get too cold by the time I got back—while also trying to make sure I didn’t spill any or drop the precious box of donuts.

I paused outside the door to juggle the tray of drinks and box of Sugar Shack when the door opened in front of me, and I looked up, surprised. Then I flushed.

Maybe someday I would learn to control my reactions around Raj, but that day had apparently not yet come.

“Hi,” I mumbled, as he held open the door for me.

“Did you bring enough to share, kid?” Hart wanted to know from where he was lounging on the couch.

“Obviously, Keebler,” Raj answered for me. “Since the only other person here is Ward.”

“I figured the two of you would be appearing before long,” Ward replied, rolling himself out into the reception area.

I set the box of donuts and the tray of drinks—Ward’s pumpkin spice latte, Hart’s salted caramel latte, my hot chocolate with two shots of espresso, and a hazelnut latte that I guessed was for Raj.

I should really have known my own boyfriend’s coffee order, but we never went out for coffee. Lunch, yes. Dinner, all thetime. We’d had breakfast that one time that he’d made it for me. But never coffee that hadn’t been made in my apartment or Beyond the Veil’s kitchen.

I handed him the cup, my face still hot.

“What is it?” he asked me.

“Hazelnut latte,” I mumbled back. “Is that… okay?”

He smiled. “I’m not picky.”

“What—what would you rather have?” I asked him.

“Toffee, if they can make it. Or chestnut or pistachio, when they have those. But hazelnut is good, too.” He smiled.