Chapter 15
Tanner saved a file and opened the next.
According to Tanner’s staff and the city workers, the gigantic storm left Kotoyeesinay buried under nearly eight feet of powder in some drifts.
Kotoyeesinay didn’t have snowplows, but it did have magic.
The trouble was, digging out wasn’t just a matter of clearing streets and helping neighbors get their front doors open, but a logistical issue of where to put the tons of excess snow.
Everywhere for two hundred miles already had too much.
It wasn’t as if they could just open a fairy portal and dump it in some drought-stricken wilderness that desperately needed the moisture. Humans would notice.
Fortunately, other, cleverer minds were working on that. To be perfectly honest, all he wanted to do was go back home with Avelunne. He’d found himself counting down the minutes. One more report to finish and one more meeting, and he’d be free.
He turned his attention back to the report of the casino stabbing from two days ago, trying to summon the focus that usually served him so well.
The incident itself was straightforward, but messy.
A high-roller human gambler at the Change of Fortune caught another player cheating and stabbed her hand to prove it.
The player was illusion-wearing fairy who had to be spell-stunned to stop her from hanging the human by his toes from the nearest chandelier.
Diplomatic Deputy Sheriff Shiloh kept the human contained until the witch on call could teleport in and smooth away inconvenient memories.
Meanwhile, Tanner dealt with getting medical treatment and restraining spells for the wounded but vengeful fairy.
Pendragor portaled to the casino to take her to the town’s null-magic detention demesne to cool off and wait for adjudication.
That left Tanner to talk to the casino’s security chief about how they let the problem happen in the first place.
He understood that the storm made them short-handed, but letting a fairy get away with cheating a normal human not only put the casino at risk, but the whole town.
They were lucky other humans hadn’t been around to notice when a middle-aged, well-dressed Black woman turned into a snarling, green-skinned, winged, sharp-toothed fairy.
The casino executive manager promised to improve their procedures.
When he’d left Avelunne so quickly, he’d promised to text her, but his job had reeled him in and swallowed him whole.
He only remembered the promise when he’d escorted Denise back to the Transition Center just before dinnertime, and had been astonished to see Avelunne there.
It brought him up hard against his assumptions and expectations.
He’d imagined she’d stay safely at home, forgetting she had wings and a will of her own.
She was a shining beacon of energy, standing in the center of the dining hall, surrounded by a chaotic whirlwind of paper, paint, and chattering children.
From what he could tell, she’d organized the refugee children — including the Ice Age shifter teenagers they’d pulled from the labs — into a crafting battalion for Tinsel.
They were making holiday decorations with a fervor that looked more like they were preparing for war rather than Christmas.
When she had looked around and spotted him, the smile on her face was so bright it seemed to melt the snow off his boots.
It was no use pretending they weren’t in a relationship. To any shifter with a nose, their scents were all over each other. She’d walked toward him, and he’d met her halfway to pull her in for a hug and an apologetic kiss.
“Sorry for not texting you. Let me make it up to you with dinner. Blue Fairy is open and serving, or we can take it back to the cabin.” Their telepathic connection was as easy as touching her.
“Cabin,” she’d replied instantly, her thoughts laced with hunger that had nothing to do with food. “Definitely the cabin.”
Eating the meal happened much later, after they’d indulged in making love in the shower and the bed. They’d laughed and fed each other at midnight. Reheated white lasagna had never tasted better.
Last night had been similar, with the added bonus of no emergency callouts.
He wanted her all the time. All she had to do was breathe, and he was hard.
It wasn’t just the physical pleasure, though that was addictive enough to ruin him for anyone else.
It was the mystery of her. He had fallen in love with the flash of lightning and the artist’s outlook, but he wanted to know the woman who danced to unheard music when she read the titles on his bookshelves, and the possessive dragon who curled around his protective thunderbird while they slept.
He wanted to map every inch of her history and discover the colors of her dreams.
Voices echoing from the station lobby snapped his attention front and center.
Any more thoughts about Avelunne would have to wait, or his pants would become uncomfortably tight.
He closed the file that he hadn’t touched and took a deep, centering breath, ordering his body to stand down.
It was often a losing battle. Her lightning was in his blood.
Moments later, Guivre and Pendragor walked in. Guivre hung her moss-colored winter cloak on the coat stand while Pendragor stamped his booted feet, then set up his laptop on the corner of Tanner’s desk.
Pendragor started right in as Guivre sat.
“Kotoyeesinay has been relying too much on our ‘too-small-to-bother-with’ reputation to keep trouble away.” Pendragor tapped a sharp fingernail on Tanner’s desk.
“The security team and I believe that we can’t do that anymore.
We’ve made an enemy of Surasa, and she is probably pissed off.
She can’t let the reputational damage go unanswered.
We need to increase town security with both magical and technological measures. ”
They spent the next ten minutes batting around the level of effort to add layers to the existing wards versus rebuilding the grid from scratch and integrating modern human tech. Tanner argued that they needed both. The world was changing faster than old magic could keep up.
Pendragor seemed gratified when Tanner and Guivre agreed to raise the security upgrade project’s priority. “Magister Zephyr has some ideas on the integration, as does Magister Skyla Chekal from Fort LeBlanc.”
Guivre spoke up. “The Council also wants to prioritize the plan to move the rock fairy demesne that Zephyr and the banshee, Sunscar, are rehabilitating.”
Tanner nodded. He knew it was currently loosely anchored in the hurricane-prone Caribbean. The undertaking to move it was very far outside his area of expertise.
She continued. “A few of our oracles think that if Surasa finds it unprotected, she’ll steal it.
If we re-anchor it here, we can shield it.
Plus, the demesne would be an ideal halfway house for former breeder captives who aren’t ready to handle the modern world yet, or need time and therapy to deal with severe trauma. ”
“I don’t disagree with the idea,” said Pendragor, “but it’ll be a logistical nightmare to move unless we get a lot of help. And the more outsiders we involve, the more vulnerable we are to Surasa’s spies.”
Tanner shook his head. “I think we need to take that chance. We need it for refugees. The Transition Center is beyond full and is vulnerable to attack. Both Denise and Avelunne have told me that some of the former captives were sold out by enemies, rivals, and even family who wanted to make the captive disappear without a trace. Some of the betrayers might want to finish the job.” He watched Guivre’s face, catching the flicker of the deep compassion she usually kept hidden behind her mask of serene authority.
She was a vault of secrets, but for as long as he’d known her, she had a soft spot for refugees and second chances.
“Speaking of Avelunne and vulnerabilities,” Pendragor said, his tone too carefully casual. “We need to know how Avelunne breached the town shield so we can close that vulnerability. If she can do it, others might be able to as well.”
Now Tanner understood why they had come to his office instead of holding the meeting in the Town Hall building as usual. He appreciated their discretion, and he begrudgingly appreciated Pendragor’s unusual patience regarding a mystery that had obviously been eating him alive for days.
Tanner took a moment to consider his answer.
“It’s not my secret to tell. But I will send Avelunne a text to ask her permission to describe what I’ve observed, or if she herself would be willing to tell you.
” He pulled his phone from his pocket. Even as he typed the message, he realized that if she declined, he would protect her silence, and he didn’t feel guilty about it.
His inner thunderbird agreed. She is our mate.
He put his phone on the desk so they’d hear the reply notification. Guivre tilted her head. “Does your department have enough staff to cover the holidays?”
Tanner blinked in surprise. “Yes. Why? Has someone complained?”
“No.” A small, innocent smile played across her lips.
“I meant, do you have enough trained people in case someone needs time away? Your people should feel valued, but not irreplaceable. The town shouldn’t be taking advantage of its staff.
” Her eyes twinkled with sly humor. “I’m told our employment benefits include accumulating vacation time for years — or centuries — of service. Perhaps you should look into it.”
Tanner suppressed a sigh at her meddling. He was grateful to be saved by the three tones from his phone. He read Avelunne’s answer from the screen. “She says, ‘I will talk to them. When?’“