Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
OTIS.
I walk into the sheriff’s office where a small group of my assistant sheriffs are assembled.
These are the trusted inner circle, all of them party to our plan to infiltrate Sparkle.
They are gathered in the usual, unconventional monster fashion; Shinto, a bald-headed eagle, sits on one of the beams supporting the rock roof.
Kazmo leans against the back wall with Larry, a centaur, both of them too big to fit into the chairs, and Sidney, a naga who has the difficult job of managing untamed monsters on the lowest levels of the Labyrinth, is coiled on top of his hat on the floor.
Tony is already in place on his stool next to my desk. Everyone murmurs their greetings.
My eyes scan the room. “Where’s Jax?”
“Not here yet, boss,” Tony supplies.
I roll my eyes. Jax is the most important player in all of this, and he’s treating it like it’s a casual meeting at Digger’s Diner on a Friday night.
“Typical,” I growl. Gods, Jax tries my patience sometimes.
Then I hear the rumble of a motorbike outside. Its engine sputters to a halt and finally, Jax saunters in. He sprawls on a chair with a grin, unzipping his leather jacket.
“Howdy, all.” His green gaze spans the group.
“Good of you to join us,” I say with a hint of sarcasm.
Jax’s mouth twists as he brings out his vape and drags on it. Dear gods, if he tries to vape while on this mission, he’ll put himself at risk. A spiral of vapor in midair is guaranteed to draw unwanted attention. Maybe Tippy needs to make him some nicotine lollies to chew.
And yet, somehow, I know Jax won’t blow his cover. He survived a mauling that nearly killed him. I daresay he still experiences pain from the many scars he bears, but he never complains. There’s a reservoir of strength hidden behind his couldn’t-give-a-fuck attitude.
It’s just… his ordeal sure hasn’t done anything to change his personality. He’s irritatingly laconic and frankly, his sarcasm and habit of trivializing even the most serious of things drives me batshit crazy. I grit my teeth, my tusks extending in typical annoyed-orc fashion.
One thing I know, he’s not wriggling out of telling Clem what happened to him.
Today—straight after this meeting, in fact—I intend to drag his sorry ass home with me and make sure he tells her every last detail.
Jax ignores my seething look and slings his booted feet onto my desk. “Okay. Give me the lowdown.’
“Feet off my desk.” I point at his buckled boots. Jax smirks and doesn’t move. “Now.” Slowly, he unfurls his ankles and drops his feet, long legs sprawled as he slouches back in the chair.
Fighting the urge to tell him to sit the fuck up, I pick up one tiny metal bug from my desk.
“This,” I say, “is the result of weeks of work. I’ve refined it as far as I can.
It’s ready for a trial run. Jax, you will smuggle it into the army barracks at the Periphery, and fix it under the desk of the Captain.
If that succeeds, your next task will be to hide devices in the Sparkle authorities headquarters.
Jax removes the vape from his mouth. “Piece of cake getting it into the army barracks. Less easy to smuggle them into the headquarters in DeVine’s tower. I assume I will have access to the portal cape for that.”
“When the time comes, yes, but only for that part of the mission.”
“When do I smuggle one into the barracks?”
“Within the week.”
Jax nods. He sits up straight now, green eyes shining. He’s actually looking forward to it, I realize.
“I have a stash of black-market cigars I can use to bribe my way into the officer’s quarters. I’ve done plenty of deals with them before.” He smirks. “It’s how I keep the bastards sweet, make sure they don’t ask too many questions.”
“Excellent,” I say, turning my attention to my team of sheriffs. “You guys need to keep watchful eyes and ears on the peripherals on all levels, report any suspicious activities—humans straying out of bounds, any new faces. Understood?”
“Yes, boss,” my team choruses.
We discuss the finer details of strategy for a while, then everyone filters out, except Jax, who sidles over and picks up the bugging device, turning it over in his palm. “Doesn’t look like it would achieve fuck all.”
“Well, that’s computing for you. So much squeezed into tiny packages.”
“So the mission begins,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, but before that, you need to come clean to Clem.”
Jax stiffens. “We’ve had this fucking conversation before.”
“And we’ll keep having it until you talk to her.”
“Why are you so fucking insistent?” he growls, then does a double take, eyes homing on my face. I feel tell-tale heat creeping above my collar. “Ah, that’s what it is… you’ve got the hots for her, haven’t you?” Jax crows.
The blush spreads right up to my hairline. “She’s your biggest fan. She deserves to know the truth,” I bluster.
“I doubt she’ll be my biggest fan when she finds out.”
“It won’t change her feelings for you, Jax. She adores you.”
He’s silent, chewing on his lip, a muscle working behind the scruff on his jaw. Finally, he says tersely, “Okay. You win. When?”
“Now. Right fucking now.”
“Oh, no—no way. I’m not ready.” He jumps up, throws his hands in the air and strides toward the exit. “I’ll tell her after the mission is completed.”
“Are you worried Tippy might find out?” I watch Jax freeze, shoulders around his ears.
He reels on me, eyes blazing. “I don’t give a damn what a wixen hippie thinks of me.”
My gaze holds his, challenging him. “Stop lying to yourself. You’re mad about the girl.”
Jax lets out a low growl, baring his teeth in something very close to a snarl.
Finally, I’ve hit a raw nerve.
I push my advantage with a jerk of my thumb. “Get in the jeep. Now. We’re going to see Clem.”
CLEM.
I’m dusting the twins’ old room and carefully working around the photos on the shelves.
I pause and take a closer look at a picture of the twins playing basketball.
I can’t tell which is Dwayne and which is Nathaniel, they sure look alike.
They’re goofy and grinning, still not full-grown orcs, their long green limbs gangly, with hands and feet that are out of proportion.
I put it down and pick up another. They’re holding a trophy between them, with Sally and Bradley standing proudly on either side.
The orc to their left must be Amy, I deduce, with her green hair tumbling in curls around her shoulders.
And to the right stands Otis, tall and studious looking, with an awkward smile, hands folded in front of him.
I sigh as I place the photo carefully back on the shelf. I wish the Cane clan were all together again, laughing and happy as a family.
I leave the room, pleased with my handiwork. The house looks like a new pin. I’m contemplating cooking something for dinner when I hear Otis’s jeep draw up outside.
Before I can even get to the door, Otis has burst through it, followed by Jax.
“Oh, hi. Both of you!” I chirp.
“Jax is here to explain a few things. Come with me.” He leads the way into the study.
Jax throws himself into a chair, gets out his vape, then puts it back in his pocket.
I perch on the edge of a chair opposite.
Jax looks, almost nervous. Not like the usual cocky Jax I know.
“I’ll put the kettle on,” Otis says, and it reminds me of my first day here. Was that really less than a week ago? It feels like a lifetime.
“Bring cookies. We’ll need them,” Jax calls after him. Otis growls something over his shoulder which I think is a yes.
Now Jax takes out his vape again, puts it to his lips and takes a long drag.
“I wish you’d give that away,” I grumble.
He grunts, and puffs out a plume of vapor.
“So…” I clasp my hands. “Where’ve you been?” I try not to sound resentful that he has only visited once since I got here.
“Around. How about you?”
“I’ve had plenty to do.” I tilt my chin, refusing to blush. “We visited Otis’s mom.”
“Nice lady, from what I’ve heard,” Jax says, crossing his ankles high up on his thigh and pulling on his booted foot, a habit he’s had since he was a kid.
“She’s lovely,” I agree. “We baked her a cake.”
“That’s cute.”
I scowl at him. “No need to be sarcastic.”
“I wasn’t.”
“And I’ve been to the markets again, once with Tippy, and once by myself.” I pause. “I was there the day before yesterday, I thought I saw you on your bike.”
“Wasn’t me.”
“Tippy said it was likely a fae.”
“Yeah, probably. I bought my bike off a fae.”
“There’s so much I don’t know about your life here, Jax,” I huff, and then Otis enters with cookies and steaming mugs of tea, which we both dive on with grateful thanks.
Otis says quietly, “I’ll leave you two to talk. Let me know when you’re done.”
Once the door closes behind him, Jax stares at his booted foot, picking at a buckle.
“Okay, fire away,” I say. “What do you want to tell me?”
Jax slouches lower in the chair, bites on his cookie takes a loud slurp of tea. Then he puts the mug and cookie down on the occasional table next to him, and sighs.
“What has Otis told you already?” he says finally.
“That you had a device in your neck that the humans controlled you with. That it’s not there anymore.”
“Yep. It’s been removed.”
“Otis said it was wolves that mauled you, too.”
Jax nods.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this when it happened—about the device and all?”
“I needed to protect you. You didn’t need to carry more secrets.”
“Well there’s no need to protect me now. I’m never going back to Sparkle.”
“Dead set. I wouldn’t let you,” Jax says.
“So tell me everything.”
He nods, sucks on his vape and exhales. He’s never been one for awkward conversations.
“Start at the beginning,” I encourage gently. “When did the authorities put a device in you?”