I could manage more than one kiosk, let alone a store. This was Remy’s passion fueling an old dream of mine.
The surrealness of it struck me, that I was getting a thing I had always wanted only to discover I didn’t want it anymore. My world had been so small and certain back when I thought earning a respectable degree for a Low Society woman that would guarantee me a respectable job and a respectable match would earn my parents’ approval. Only after I realized that would never happen had I reached for bigger dreams that turned my life into a nightmare.
Now I had trouble picturing a life where that kind of work fulfilled me. Perhaps because it never had, but I had bought into the idea for so long I had been afraid to let it die until Ambrose helped me kill my old life.
The wail of sirens alerted me to the approach of the sentinels in their APD squad cars, the better to make this seem like a routine police raid and not a magical mutant shootout, which, now that I thought about it, would make an awesome movie title.
Used to the routine, I raised my hands to show they were empty and that I was not a threat. Most of them recognized me, but there was always a risk of a new hire getting trigger-happy before they determined I was one of the good guys.
And how wild was that? One of the good guys. That was me, all right.
Gunfire erupted all around, and insectoid screeches gave me a good idea of the formation the APD was using to infiltrate the building. Low Society necromancers rarely had any magic, and it wasn’t the type of magic you could fling at someone or something anyway. It required tools and preparation. It was all but worthless in a fight. But guns with armor-piercing rounds, which I suggested after the OPA’s first encounter with the Martian Roaches, worked just fine.
“Clear,” a woman called, and she was answered by several other voices. “What the actual hell, Whitaker?”
A short woman in black tactical armor with a vicious-looking firearm in each hand entered the building.
“Hey, Lizzy.” I lowered my arms. “Long time, no see.”
Lizzy Frommel was the pack’s liaison with the Atlanta Police Department. She was a lawyer, but she was also an enforcer. Kind of like Rambo but with a degree. She represented gwyllgi in police custody and made arrangements with the undercover sentinels to ensure justice was served outside human law.
Between her, my Lisbeth, and Ares’s Liz, I had a Liz adjacent overload in my life.
“It’s been a week, tops.” She kept her fingers on the triggers, and her eyes in the darkened corners. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”
The tone recalled my insecurities about what Ares must have said to Midas to provoke the response I had overheard, but I couldn’t let it get to me here or now. I couldn’t go through life suspecting everyone wanted me out of the picture. I mean, that might be the case, but I couldn’t let it matter.
“You heard about Faete?”
“Your office sent mine a dossier, so yeah.”
“Well, here’s your origin.” I swept my arm out to encompass the destruction. “Don’t let these things bite you.”
“Their spit is a drug?” Her nose wrinkled. “Are you sure you’re not the one who’s high?”
“Their spit is the basis for the drug,” I confirmed. “My team has been working around the clock to isolate the exact components used in the compound.”
“You mean your team has been working alongside the cleaners, right?”
“Um, yes.” I snapped my fingers. “That.”
Lizzy crossed to me and crouched, taking in the bug behind me, which had started to twitch. “What gives?”
“Hmm?” I leaned into her field of vision. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That thing is alive, and you put it in the circle with you.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re protecting it.” Her finger caressed the trigger. “The question is why? And you better have a damn good answer, or I’ll have to assume you’ve been infected.”
My brilliant plan had hinged on sentinels rushing in to save the day while Remy and I exited, stage left. I hadn’t taken into consideration that Lizzy might catch wind of my call and decide to come on behalf of the pack. Normally, she wouldn’t have done it. But, as Midas and I got more serious, I was starting to see myself for what I was: a liability to the pack. Lizzy had come