Epilogue
Kit
I had to be careful or everything would fall apart.
One wrong step, one moment of imbalance, and everything I’d worked so hard to create would come tumbling down.
Behind me were bright white buildings tucked amid a riot of trees, shrubs, and other tropical landscaping.
In front of me was a glorious beach, gentle waves rolling over the sand in a steady rhythm.
Between me and that oceanfront oasis, however, was a narrow set of wooden stairs that twisted through a jungle of untamed palm fronds.
That was where the danger lay.
As I navigated the slick steps, one of my sandals went rogue on a low-friction puddle. I lurched sideways, and the magnificent dollops of whipped cream floating on the drinks I held in each hand swayed perilously.
I exhaled. “That was close.”
Down on the beach, I found Lienna reclining on a double-wide deck chair, sunlight bathing all the skin her bikini left uncovered.
“What is that?” she asked, sitting up.
“My own concoction.” I handed her one of the tall drinks, then put the straw of the second to my lips and let the sweet coffee cascade into my mouth. “My magnum opus.”
She sampled hers, eyelids lowering as she took in the flavor. “Is this just an alcoholic version of a Sleepy Kit Special?”
“Oh, Lienna, love of my life, it is so much more than that.” I sat next to her, putting my free arm around her shoulders as she nestled against my bare chest. “One ounce each of coffee liqueur, espresso, and spiced rum, a smidge of maple syrup, and two ounces of oat milk, all blended with ice then topped with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle.”
“So, more like a Vacation Kit Special.”
“I was thinking of calling it the Mind Warp.”
Lienna took another sip. “How about the Tongue Warp?”
“Hmm.” I arched an eyebrow above my sunglasses. “That term is a better fit for something else I can do for you.”
“Oh.” A faint blush heated her cheeks as she smiled. “I agree.”
Savoring the perfection of my caffeinated cocktail, I appreciated the wisps of white cloud drifting across the intensely blue sky and the immutable peacefulness of Lienna relaxing against me.
As I finished my drink, the boozy buzz making me thankful that we’d already completed our mission, I glanced at Lienna’s satchel on the sand next to her.
“You’re sure you’re done with it?” I asked.
“The grimoire?” She nodded. “I’ve had it for six months now, and I can’t translate most of it. It’s better off with someone who can.”
“As long as that someone won’t use it for world domination.”
“That too.”
We spent the next hour or so dozing in the sun, undisturbed by the resort’s other guests, until a woman with a floppy hat, sunglasses, and a sleek black camera hanging from a strap around her neck sat on the chair next to ours.
“I have to say,” she said as she slipped a backpack off her shoulders, “this beats a dirty alley.”
“Panama City has a surprising lack of alleys.” I stuck my empty glass in the sand as I sat up. “It makes sneaking around rather irksome.”
M flashed a grin. “I haven’t had any trouble.”
Pulling her satchel onto the chair between us, Lienna withdrew the Sha’ir’s grimoire and the astrolabe, gave both a wistful look, then passed them to M. “I tucked a few pages of my notes into the back of the grimoire for Dr. Sorensen in case he finds them helpful.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate them.” M secured the two ancient items in her bag. “Teddy asked if he could meet up with you again, Kit. He’s hoping to get your help with some research.”
She emphasized the last word, curiosity thicker on her face than the sunscreen on mine.
“I’ve got my own research to take care of,” I told her, reclaiming my sandy cocktail glass and wiggling it. “The world of specialty drinks eagerly awaits the arrival of Kit Morris.”
“Good luck with that.” Smirking, M grabbed her backpack and stood. She gave us a wave. “Have fun, kids.”
I watched her amble down the beach. As she passed beneath a row of tall palm trees leaning over the sand, she vanished in the dappled shade. I blinked, but she didn’t reappear.
“Ready to head back?” Lienna asked.
“How about a couple more drinks to celebrate another successful mission first?” I suggested, slinging my arms loosely around her hips.
She checked her watch. “We have a plane to catch in a few hours. We should pack.”
“About that. I was thinking that a career as a beach bum suits me. I could definitely make it work.”
Laughing, she stood and held out her hand. “Take me home, Kit Morris.”
Entwining our fingers, I got to my feet, then scooped her against my chest and kissed her deeply. “As you wish.”
“I feel like you’re breaking up with me,” I muttered, staring down at the cardboard box of belongings that had just been shoved into my hands. An old Canucks shirt, an MPD mug I’d personalized, and a classic King Kong movie poster sat atop several other odds and ends.
Vinny crossed his arms and leaned against the partition of our former shared cubicle. “You haven’t set foot in this precinct for almost a year, but all your junk is still here.”
“I thought you’d cherish the memories of the best cubicle-mate you ever had,” I mourned, my gaze drifting across the heads of agents typing up reports, digging through MPD archives, and chatting about cases.
The bullpen’s incessant clacking of keyboards and background chatter, punctuated by the odd phone ring, felt somehow acutely familiar and totally foreign to me.
“I was this close”—Vinny pinched his thumb and forefinger together—“to tossing that stupid stuffed unicorn in the dumpster.”
I pulled the adorable carnival prize out of the box, chunks of stuffing dangling from its non-life-threatening stab wounds, and hugged it protectively. “If I ever hear you threaten Sir Sparkles again, I will warp a very real version of him inside your apartment when you least expect it.”
The kryomage gave me a wary scowl. “Can you even do that anymore?”
“Do you want to find out?”
“What I want,” Vinny retorted, “is for you to clear all your crap out of here so my new partner has some space to work.”
“New partner?” I echoed, glancing around the bullpen. I didn’t spot many agents I recognized. “Have you been working solo since last year?”
“After Harris retired, I worked with Vigneault for a while, but now the captain has saddled me with a rookie.”
“Vincent Park, senior agent extraordinaire, is training newbs,” I observed with a smirk. “Things have really changed around here.”
“There’ve been a lot of old faces out and new faces in,” he said. “And the new captain is—actually, I should keep my mouth shut.”
“Oh, come on,” I cajoled. “Spill the beans.”
Vinny raised an eyebrow. “To you? No way.”
I scoffed, then gestured at Vinny’s ever-present cargo shorts. “At least he didn’t enforce a new dress code.”
“He’s a hard ass, but he’s not an idiot.”
“Well, I should get going.” I gave Vinny a casual salute with my stuffed unicorn. “Keep up the good work, Agent Park.”
Setting Sir Sparkles back in the box, I headed for the exit. Halfway through the maze of desks, however, I changed course toward a particular cubicle. I set my box of ultra-valuable goodies down next to the man at the desk and crossed my arms.
“I suppose you know what I’m thinking,” I remarked.
Agent Tim spun his chair around to face me with an unimpressed air. “I don’t listen to people’s thoughts twenty-four seven. That’d be a gross invasion of my coworkers’ privacy.”
“But it would give you access to some pretty valuable secrets.”
Tim blinked, then slowly leaned back in his chair as he studied my face. “How long have you known?”
I shrugged, enjoying his chagrined expression.
“Have you told anyone else?”
“Not a soul. I’m a man of my word.”
I’d promised the mole that if he helped me, sans cash payments, I’d never come after him. I wouldn’t be the one to expose his rodent alter-ego.
“It’s a thing of the past anyway.” He glanced at my box of belongings. “We won’t be seeing you around here anymore, will we?”
“Not unless I get arrested again.” I scooped my box up. “Can you do one final favor for me? Don’t let Vinny’s senior agent status go to his head.”
Tim chuckled. “Consider it done.”
In the passenger seat, I stretched my legs out in front of me. Not because I was sore or tired or cramped, but because I could. Lienna, as per usual, was behind the wheel, but what was unusual was our new set of wheels. A real, human-sized vehicle instead of a hobbit wagon.
“I love this car,” I muttered, flexing my toes.
Lienna rolled her eyes. “It’s not that much bigger than a smart car.”
“Only a person who didn’t have to fold herself in half to get through a smart car door would say that.” I let out a luxuriant sigh. “Legroom like this is a beautiful thing for those of us tall enough to ride a rollercoaster.”
She swatted my shoulder.
“Agh! Fine.” I shrugged. “It’s not like any of us will be riding a rollercoaster anytime soon. Not in this city, at least.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Not mine!” I threw my hands up. “Tori’s taking her disinformation campaign way too seriously.”
Lienna snickered.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” I informed her. “Kade and I destroyed dozens of rides and attractions, but Tori is the one who demolished the lone historical landmark in the park. She needs to stop telling everyone it was my fault.”
Lienna reached over to pat my knee. “No one is holding it against you.”
“Yeah, because I didn’t do it.”
Pulling the car up to the curb, Lienna shut off the engine.
I glanced out the window at the three-story brick building on the street corner.
The front door, tucked into a dark nook and sporting peeling paint, filled me with a comfortable warmth every time I saw it, even on the drizzliest of Vancouver days.