Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
T hora shook Jash’s hand, unsure how to respond to his enthusiasm. Most people knew her reputation as effective but ruthless—few expressed admiration.
“Your work on the Silvercliff case revolutionized how we approach anti-magic security systems,” Jash continued eagerly. “The way you identified the magical signature bypass points—I implemented similar protocols in our Phoenix facility last year.”
“That’s... good to know,” Thora managed.
“I have so many questions about your techniques. For instance, when tracking a shifter who’s changed forms multiple times, do you focus on the residual magical signature or physiological markers like personalized scent compounds?”
Artair placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Maybe save the professional interrogation for after dinner, Jash.”
“Right, sorry.” Jash pushed his glasses up, looking sheepish. “I get carried away with security theory.”
“No problem,” Thora replied, secretly relieved for the interruption. “It’s just unusual to meet someone familiar with my work beyond ‘scary tiger lady who hunts people.’“
Jash chuckled. “Oh, the forums have much more detailed discussions of your methods. The thread about your Roosevelt capture has over three thousand replies.”
“Forums? There are forums about bounty hunters?”
“SupernaturalSecurity.net,” Jash nodded enthusiastically. “You’re something of a legend there. Username ThunderPaws believes you’re actually part vampire because of your night tracking abilities.”
Thora shot Artair a helpless look.
“Jash,” Artair said firmly, “perhaps later?”
“Oh, right, sorry.” Jash adjusted his glasses again, a nervous habit. “It’s just exciting to meet someone whose work I’ve studied.”
Before the conversation could continue, the room’s atmosphere shifted as an elderly woman entered from a side door. Despite her advanced age, she carried herself with regal bearing, her silver hair swept into an elegant bun. Sharp hazel eyes assessed Thora with unsettling directness.
“So this is the sabertooth who manhandled my grandson,” she said, her voice strong and clear.
Artair stepped forward. “Grandma Eira, this is Thora Halliwell. Thora, my grandmother, Eira Maxen.”
Thora straightened instinctively. Something about the old woman commanded respect. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Maxen.”
“Eira, please.” The older woman circled Thora slowly, making no attempt to hide her assessment. “Strong build. Good bone structure. Excellent posture.” Her gaze lingered on Thora’s face. “Distinctive features. Quite striking.”
“Thank you... I think,” Thora replied cautiously.
“And sabertooth tigers are known for their hunting prowess and protective instincts,” Eira continued as if Thora hadn’t spoken. “Excellent qualities for the Maxen line.”
Thora’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not here for your family line. I’m here because your grandson mistakenly handcuffed us together with malfunctioning magic.”
“Fate works in mysterious ways, dear.” A knowing smile curved Eira’s lips. “Come, dinner’s ready.”
They moved to a long wooden table laden with food: a whole roasted salmon, crusty bread dripping with honey, roasted vegetables, and what appeared to be some kind of spiced mead in crystal decanters.
Bryn enthusiastically pulled Thora to sit beside her, while Artair took the seat opposite. Jash settled nearby, still casting admiring glances at Thora, and Eira positioned herself at the head of the table.
“Eat,” Eira commanded, and everyone reached for the serving platters.
As Thora helped herself to salmon, she caught Bryn and Eira exchanging significant looks. Suspicion prickled along her spine. This wasn’t just a family meal—it was an evaluation.
“So, Thora,” Eira began once everyone had filled their plates, “what do you think of our little town?”
“It’s... picturesque,” Thora replied diplomatically.
“And how are you finding your time with my grandson?” Eira’s eyes flicked meaningfully to the tether connecting them.
“Enlightening.” Thora took a deliberate bite of salmon to avoid elaborating.
“Mmm.” Eira nodded as if Thora had given a much longer answer. “And what are your feelings on reproduction? Specifically cross-species cub potential?”
Thora choked on her food. Beside her, Bryn snickered into her napkin.
“Grandma!” Artair’s face had turned an impressive shade of red. “That’s completely inappropriate.”
“Nonsense. It’s a practical consideration.” Eira waved off his objection with elegant fingers adorned with a single silver ring. “Bear-sabertooth genetics are rare but not unheard of. The Lockwood family three towns over had a successful match two generations back. The cubs had remarkable tracking abilities combined with bear strength. Quite extraordinary.”