6. Cassian
CASSIAN
Idrag my sorry self into the station at six.
The bullpen smells like old pizza and two days of spilled coffee. One day away and the place has fallen back to its natural state of slow-motion disaster.
Dispatch is a tomb, and there's nobody on comms but a bot that occasionally blurts out the weather.
I check the log.
Margo's in the East District, and Ravena's off shift, but probably at the bodega throwing shade at anyone buying decaf. She's always been a coffee snob.
Zadok is parked in my office chair, his feet on my desk like he owns the place—which, to be fair, as mayor he sort of does.
Even worse, he's not alone.
The demon with him is nearly identical in height and scowl, but the tailored waistcoat and ancient wire-rimmed glasses give away Enoch Infernalis, Zadok's brother and the closest thing Blackthorn has to a real psychiatrist.
If Enoch is here, I'm either in trouble or about to become part of someone else's therapy session.
"Cassian, my favorite wolf," Zadok booms, not looking up from the file he's reading. "Come in, come in. We were just discussing your heart."
My hackles are already up.
"That's what coroners are for."
Enoch's smile is all teeth, perfect and polite.
"Not that heart. The one that skipped a beat when Liza Morales nearly got herself hexed by a phantom admirer."
I close the door with a flick of my heel and glare at Zadok.
"You told him?"
Zadok lifts both hands, the universal sign for I regret nothing.
"The two of you are the talk of the town. I had to bring in a specialist. This special case is rapidly becoming a psychoanalytic curiosity. An incident like that, especially with the bouquet and the calling card—"
"Spare me the romance angle," I say, because I really don't need to hear how the mayor's psychiatrist brother thinks the stalker is acting out some cheap monster novel. "We're treating it as an escalation. We're building a list of possible suspects."
Enoch leans over my desk, fingers steepled.
"You're not listening, wolf. It's not escalation unless you believe the person is capable of resisting their own nature. This is hunger, pure and simple."
His eyes glimmer, razor-bright.
"An obsession this potent isn't about harming Liza. It's about possessing her."
Zadok interjects.
"I said the same. Cassian thinks it's a grudge. I say it's love, unrequited and seriously pathological."
"Fantastic. Glad to know you two have my workflow all mapped out."
A pause settles over the room, awkward as hell.
I consider the fine print of demon etiquette and decide not to punch anyone.
Yet.