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“I didn’t say it would be drama-free.”
I shook my head. “If I was afraid of drama, I wouldn’t be a counselor.”
“So you’ll do it?” He asked, sounding a bit surprised.
Wincing, I shook my head again. “No, not on your life.” The expression on his face closed. He looked back to the flirty girls while I explained; “You have to understand that no counselor worth their salt would agree to this. And if they did, they would be doing it for ego and the money, not to see your cousin’s marriage succeed.”
“Curse those principles, huh?” Derrick said, turning to me with a too-steady gaze that under other circumstances might have made me flush.
Or maybe I already was flushing.
“As a professional, I can’t,” I said. “There’s not enough time to develop the kind of communication needed for this. I’m sorry.”
He leaned back in his chair and heaved a sigh. “It’s not your fault. Though I am starting to wish you were egotistical and greedy.”
I huffed a laugh and was about to apologize again when I spotted the clock. I had less than ten minutes to make it back to my study before the Brookes showed up on my doorstep. Cursing, I shoved to my feet, nearly spilling my coffee in the process. Derrick looked startled, which I couldn’t fault him for because he nearly got a lap full of hot vanilla coffee.
“I have to go,” I said, glancing at the clock again. “Maker help me, I have to go.”
I was two steps away when he said he could walk me home, but I flashed a smile and waved him off, reassuring him that I could manage as I headed for the elevator. I tried not to feel bad for Delilah and her quest for a counselor, but my assessment was right. It did bother me that her family was likely to find one of those charlatans out to prove themselves, one who was willing to grab all that cash and run with it, but getting in the middle of lycanthrope family business was suicide.
I tapped my foot as the elevator doors rattled closed and counted the seconds during the descent. There was a pleasant red and gold carpet on the floor of the elevator, and a flickering brass light fixture on one wall. It was everything I could do not to think about the creak and groan of the structure as it jostled its way down its tracks, but my low-heeled shoes and ankle-length skirt couldn’t be counted on for a race down the stairs. The last thing I needed was to sprain an ankle.
Why had I chosen a skirt for today? A pantsuit would have been so much more professional, especially with constables knocking on my door.
But the breezy, pansy blue material made me smile and it wasn’t like there was a dress code for my own office.
At the base of the tower, the elevator doors opened. In two steps, I crossed the street, picking up the pace because home was still blocks away and the Brookes weren’t known for their patience. If I lost them as clients, I would have to take out a mortgage or something until the CEB assigned me someone new, which could take months. I couldn’t open my doors to humans, I didn’t have the necessary education human society required for that, which was a shame because mind magic worked so well on them.
Maybe I could take some online courses.
Coffee sloshed across my knuckles, and I hissed. In my haste, I’d taken off with the mug from the café, which meant I was going to have to return it with sincere apologies. The coffee wasn’t scalding hot, but it was warm and wet and seeping into the sleeve of my ivory blouse.
I was surveying the damage, debating how I might sneak into a fresh shirt before the Brookes made their appearance, when the shadow of a van blocked out the sun.
A man’s voice called out, “Hey!”
And I looked up because I am an idiot and apparently have zero survival instincts.
A small object was flying toward my face. I dropped my coffee and reached instinctively, catching it before the thing could smack me in the mouth. It was smooth and flat, and when I looked at it, my gut clenched in reaction.
The grey stone was no more than an inch in diameter, thin enough that its circumference was almost sharp against my skin. At its center was a strange rune, its angular lines flaring to sudden life.
The mug shattered against sidewalk, the rest of my coffee making a fragrant splash across my skirt, and I was dimly aware of dropping my purse.
Magic webbed around my joints, locking me in place. There was a drumming in my ears, slow at first but building, and I could do nothing but watch as the runestone sizzled against my skin. Searing pain rocketed up my arm and I scrambled for magic, for protection.
I blinked hard, trying to concentrate, to summon the aether into view, but when I opened my eyes there was no magic. There was only the mundane street with the general mill of people passing me by, unaware of my predicament.
Dread knotted in my gut. Blasted glamor runes! My protection bracelet glittered up at me, its cheerful silver chain useless to stop this runestone from its work. The only thing it was good for was stopping humans from seeing any magic I might cast.
The stone sank into my palm, new skin bubbling up and over, leaving behind only a pale scar the shape of the stone itself.
My arm felt on fire, every joint aching and rigid as someone threw fabric over my head. The fabric was enchanted too, muffling everything so all I could hear was ocean waves against cliffs. An instant later there were many hands gripping me, lifting me from the sidewalk and into what I suspected was a waiting van.
Cold steel pressed against my side, and I was aware of movement around me. Immobility spells were rarely used outside of CEB control, but I was not fool enough to think the criminal elements of society didn’t also use it. I could almost hear Nana Bess chastising me for not paying close enough attention. I knew the risks walking outside my door, blast it all, and I’d ignored them.
But, of course, there had been Derrick’s constable tattoos and infuriating smirk ushering me out the door.
