Chapter 5: Bianca - Offer - Change

Bianca
Offer

It was some hours later when Damen texted me asking to meet up. I packed up the books Brayden had given me. The medicine had begun to wear off, and my stomach was torn between agonizing pain and eating itself until I found more of that particular kind of chocolate the onmyoji had given to me earlier.

Or just any chocolate in general.

But that one especially.

However, as I meandered past the front desk, the sound of my name—or what was once my name—made me pause.

“Miss Brosnan?” The Head Librarian, Ms. McKinnen, had called out, raising her hand to try to get my attention. “Or,” She smiled lightly—and a bit mischievously—as her apologetic gaze moved over me, “I suppose it’s Mrs. Dubois now. I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you earlier. Are you waiting for your husband?”

My skin prickled as a chill of disgust passed over me.

It was one thing to refer to Bryce as my ‘husband’ in the confines of our small-ish group, but it was something else entirely to hear someone else say it. We—at least—knew the truth.

But the disgusting reality was that the world believed we were madly in love.

“Yes, he should be off soon.” I tried to sound pleasant, but I was certain my voice wavered.

Although, this might not be so bad if I could keep things as close to the truth as possible… Without spilling the beans, of course.

Still. I forced myself to smile despite how weird this entire brother-husband thing was beginning to make me feel.

If people were talking about us now, what would the rumors be when our real relationship came out?

Gross.

“Let me just say,” the middle-aged woman began, abandoning the screen she’d been entranced by only moments ago, and moved her rolling seat across the counter from me. She pushed a small stack of book returns to the side and leaned forward. Her mouth lifted as the gossip began, “I think it’s just fabulous that he’s finally settling down. I’ve always thought that he was such a shy boy—sweet though, and definitely charming.”

Ew. Bryce was none of those things. He was calculating and sneaky, but in a good way.

Was there a good way to be those things?

I fought the urge to touch my head as the thought passed through my mind unbidden. What was this? Was I growing more and more fond of Bryce? It was hard not to like him. I couldn’t fault him for his evilness either, those could be excellent traits that showed intellect and passion.

Was this thing she said… was that really how the world saw him?

I could, on a good day, give him ‘charming’—at least the others in the old Biology class had certainly thought so.

“Then again, though, any sense of competition would be enough to force a male fae’s hand. I know your people can take offense at any sort of challenge.”

Now that definitely wasn’t true. My old sense of kinship with the woman began to fade, and I frowned at her.

But she didn’t respond to my displeasure.

“So, what we don’t know is”—she crossed her arms over the table, eyes eager—“how did the two of you end up together? I was shocked to hear that Bryce would dally with a student, especially if you were already in a relationship with Finn Abernathy. Student/teacher relationships are highly frowned upon, even if he isn’t full-time staff.”

“What?” I almost choked and held my purse closer to my chest.

A relationship… with Finn? Never.

Long gone were the innocent days of my youth when I believed that might be a good idea. I was older now and more mature.

And even more importantly, how could no one have thought to fill in these details when spreading rumors—or whatever it was that happened to make everyone believe this story?

No one was going to fall for this façade when it had such obvious plot holes.

Did I have to do everything myself?

But this could be good. Ms. McKinnen was the worst kind of gossip. Anything we discussed now was sure to make it around the entire campus before the end of the day.

My words would be weighted and criticized. Once everything became known, people would look back to this moment and it would be forever known as my first statement to the world about my place here.

Darn it. I wasn’t ready.

I swallowed, trying to push away my impending panic. My fingers tightened over the corner of the bag, and I sucked in a breath, ready to venture into my first public relations foray.

I couldn’t screw this up. I really had to make it seem like we were star-crossed lovers, but also not lie. That way I could claim innocence later.

I had to think like a politician.

“Yes. We had a few setbacks in the beginning of our relationship.” I glanced toward the exit, and my face grew hot. I was only twenty feet from freedom, now to just hurry this along before I puked. “But we wanted to be together, so it worked out.”

There was no way that this open-ended statement could be misinterpreted. Go me.

“Really?” Ms. McKinnen frowned. “I’ve been wondering, Mrs. Hamway is very traditional, especially with her views on student/teacher relationships. I’m shocked that Bryce still has a job. What did she have to say about this? She knows, right? When is she returning?”

My breath caught and my shoulders tensed. Professor Hamway?

Lord, I’d completely forgotten about my ex-biology professor. I hadn’t heard from her since she asked me to house-sit and all this nonsense started.

I felt my expression darken, and my teeth clenched almost painfully. We had an agreement, and she still owed me money. I’d put up with almost dying, and any furniture replacements should have been taken care of by the boys.

What even happened with her plants? I sure hoped Bryce was looking into things.

But what could I do? I had no idea where she was. I’d have to get paid later.

“I don’t know, just that it’s been taken care of,” I muttered. The boys had said something to that effect, but no one bothered to illuminate me.

It could mean many things, including that they just left her entire conservatory to wither and die.

A shame.

Ms. McKinnen raised a thin, brunette eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes,” I said, even though now I was worried despite the boys and their assurances that all was okay. I’d never been so ill-prepared for anything in my entire life. But I couldn’t mention them and their role to Ms. McKinnen, we were, after all, only supposed to be acquaintances.

No, I would have to pretend to fully trust my ‘husband.’

And he probably let those plants die.

Regardless, what sort of nonsense did star-crossed lovers sprout? I was going to have to channel my inner-Damen and search my soul for something cheesy.

“It’s fine.” I held the bag closer to me, trying not to let my grief about the—now probably dead—exotic plants ruin my mood. “When we got together, Bryce promised that nothing would ever come between us.”

It was technically true. We were siblings, so even our eventual divorce could not tarnish that bond.

My heart pounded, by the end I carried an extra burden of knowledge I didn’t expect, but I’d gotten through without saying anything terrible. I was going to be so good with managing the press.

Ms. McKinnen paled and opened her mouth, but the phone rang and she moved to answer it. With her distracted, I let out a low breath, once more allowing my focus to drift to the double doors.

Maybe this was a good time to take my leave?

“Please wait a moment, Mrs. Dubois,” Ms. McKinnen said, hanging up the phone. She no longer sounded like the kindly librarian acquaintance I’d come to know. In fact, if I was reading her pinched expression correctly, she seemed almost afraid.

Even though her grilling had been a bit annoying, I felt sympathy for the woman. She’d been so pleasant only moments ago; whatever she’d heard on that call must have been really bad.

“Yes?” I had no connection to her, but for some reason, I wanted to help.

The librarian swallowed, lowering her eyes from mine. “That was Professor Protean. She’s been looking for you and asks that you meet her in her office.”

I sucked in a breath, and even though she wouldn’t know, I asked, “Why?”

And more importantly, how did Ms. Protean know where I was?

Why did it feel like I was being sent to the principal’s office again? Which wasn’t fair—that incident had been Finn’s fault.

“I’m not sure,” the librarian answered anyway, her voice lowering as she cupped the side of her mouth. “But I heard that she takes on murder cases as a consultant.”

“Hmm…” That was interesting, but completely irrelevant. I hadn’t killed anyone, at least not lately. “Maybe I should go see,” I muttered, biting my lip. I was supposed to go to Damen, and his feelings might get hurt if I ditched him, but this might be exciting.

“You should.” She was whispering for some reason, although I couldn’t fathom why. “It’s in your best interest to cooperate.”

Yeah, probably. Even though the fabric of my world was collapsing and I had no idea what life had in store for me next, obeying some elders was still an important lesson to be followed.

I shouldn’t ignore her.

“Maybe she can even help you,” Ms. McKinnen was still whispering. “She’s usually cold-hearted and keeps her students at a distance, but she has a soft spot for the fae.”

I pulled my attention from the door, glancing at the woman once more. The conversation, which had been making clear sense to me, suddenly turned odd. What in the world was she talking about?

“You can trust her.” Her eyes held mine, as if relaying a secret message. “She’ll work with you and keep you safe. Justice will be served.”

I had no idea what Ms. McKinnen was trying to tell me. Had something somehow gotten lost in translation?

Unless… Perhaps word had gotten around that Ms. Protean had asked me to be her protégé?

“O-okay,” I stammered, suddenly shy. Did this mean that others thought I was up to the job too? I had no idea that others thought I might be competent. Sure, I’d considered it, but Dr.— Uncle Gregory had wanted…

No.

I would not listen to him. Besides, I’d already made my decision to work with Ms. Protean, and this just solidified it. I would do it. In fact, I would go to Ms. Protean right now and tell her so.

Uncle Gregory could eat a bag of rocks. I’d just had to be brave enough to tell him so to his face.

“I’ll go.” I touched my lips as I mostly spoke to myself and moved to leave. “Thanks.”

“You can do it!” Ms. McKinnen called after me in a low-voiced shout. “Don’t be afraid.”

“Thanks,” I said, glancing back. “I’ll do my best.”

* * *

Breaking my engagement with Damen was harder than I thought it’d be. It’d been such a good morning—outside of Brayden getting upset by our presumed flirting—and I’d been looking forward to seeing him again.

Apparently, he felt the same.

Damen: Why can’t you meet with me?

Me: I told you, I have to talk to Ms. Protean about something. Just go ahead.

Damen: T_T

I paused outside the Criminal Justice building, my breath catching despite the nonsensical nature of this discussion. Because, really, was he crying? For some reason I'd thought he’d be more mature than that.

Although, I had to admit, I could even visualize that exact expression on Damen’s face. He’d been so sensitive lately, and I hated the idea of hurting his feelings.

Maybe I should meet with him—

Damen: Gregory says to come, we’re more fun to be around than Gloria anyway.

My wavering resolve solidified, even though I highly doubted that the older professor said it that way at all, and I punched at my phone with more force than necessary with my reply.

Me: No.

My phone rang—an unknown number, and I hesitated only a moment before answering. “H-hello?”

“Bianca Dubois, you come to my office this instant,” Uncle Gregory’s stern voice greeted me.

My palms sweat, but my reply was instantaneous. “No.”

“Bianca!”

Wow, this was so much easier when I didn’t have to look at him. “If you have a problem with it, you and Damen can come and get me. I’ll be waiting in the Criminal Justice building.” I said this—but if my theory was correct, there was no way he’d be talking to Ms. Protean any time soon. “You can explain to Ms. Protean that you don’t want me with her.”

Uncle Gregory began to curse under his breath, but then spoke louder. “I can’t do that. She’ll murder me.”

“Well, I guess I’m going to be studying with your ex-girlfriend then.” I felt like sticking out my tongue but caught myself at the last second. My chest swelled as he did not correct my assumption.

Which meant that I’d been right the whole time—they were once a couple.

“What in the world has gotten into you?” he asked instead, sounding as shocked as I ever heard him.

Did he really want to know? “Page one hundred and five.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Faery Homelife and the Family.” I held the phone against my shoulder as I picked at my fingernail and recited the name of the book that Brayden had left behind.

“Oh, for the love of…” Uncle Gregory began muttering again. “Don’t tell me this is an act of teenage rebellion?” When I didn’t respond he sighed, “Come back and we can discuss this like rational—”

“No,” I interrupted, ignoring the stares being thrown in my direction. “You’re an elder on my maternal side, so you have no direct authority over me even on a familial level. You tried to trick me.”

“Not really.” The false patience in his voice didn’t fool me. “That’s a broad overgeneralization of the rules. Besides, I’m still your Er Bashou proxy and your magical guardian. Be reasonable. You cannot work with Gloria.”

“Why?” I asked, my heart racing with both fear and adrenaline. I wanted a reason—a real reason—that he was opposed to this. Otherwise, I could only assume that he was just trying to keep an eye on me.

A tense second passed, and I could hear him breathing on the other end of the phone. I hoped that, maybe, he’d give me an answer.

Because to be honest, I didn’t get the feeling this had anything to do with Ms. Protean being his ex.

“Fine,” he said finally. “I’m calling Bryce.”

My eyes narrowed as a surge of annoyance caused my hand to tighten around my phone. “So?” He couldn’t be—

“Page one hundred and seven.” I could visualize his self-satisfied smirk as something that sounded like pages turning rustled in the background. “Since you want to go by the book so much, let’s keep in mind that ours is a patrilineal society.”

“Did you just cross-reference me?” I wanted to scream at him, but my voice came out as a squeak instead.

Besides, who just kept a book like that at their desk?

He didn’t dignify me with an answer. “Let’s ignore the fact that Bryce is your ‘husband,’ he’s also the oldest male from the Dubois line currently present in this realm. You are obligated to obey him.” My mouth opened in silent protest, but he wasn’t finished yet. “Do not work with Gloria, you will be putting the both of you at risk. I look forward to your cooperation.” Then the line went silent as the call disconnected.

I held my phone in front of me, glaring at the ‘call ended’ screen.

How dare he.

Now there was absolutely no way I wasn’t going to be working with Ms. Protean. I’d love to see Bryce try to stop me.

* * *

Ms. Protean was in a meeting when I arrived.

I could hear their argument from down the hallway—which didn’t bode well for secrecy. But then again, it seemed empty today outside of me and them.

“You have a responsibility!” A woman’s voice drifted from Ms. Protean’s cracked door. “You’re still an officer, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Ms. Protean replied. “But I’m still not certain what you’re expecting from me.”

“I need you to come with me and be an Alpha!” Ms. Protean’s visitor half-pleaded. “This entire situation reeks of wolf involvement and I need help.”

“If you need a wolf, then maybe you should ask Mr. Fernandez, he is Mr. Ducharme’s Jiangjun, and he’s far younger than me. He’ll ‘out-Alpha’ anyone you need, as you so aptly put it.”

By this point, I’d made it to the door and peeked through into the conversation taking place inside. I almost felt bad for spying, but not really. There was really no way neither of them didn’t know I was here—Ms. Protean had called me to come, and she was a shifter. I wasn’t sure who her guest was, but I was guessing probably another shifter from the way the woman was pacing the room and glancing toward the door. She wore a beige pant suit that complimented her dark skin, and high, maroon heels. I’d only ever seen such masterful control of stilettoes during runways shows, and instantly, I was jealous. But my envy was short lived, turned into shocked alarm, when she stopped suddenly, pointing at me with a violent motion.

“Is that okay?” she asked Ms. Protean.

I stepped back, my skin flushing at being so boldly called out, and fumbled forward, creaking open the door and peeking inside. “Hi…” I felt so stupid as the dark-eyed woman studied me, and her features pointed in concentration.

“Bianca, meet Ada Sartore.” Ms. Protean was studying a paper on her desk and didn’t even look up at my arrival. “Ms. Sartore is Mr. Ducharme’s Tongjun. She’s the Alpha of the hyena pack and our client today.”

Client?

The blood rushed to my head as my cheeks grew hot. She had already expected that I’d come.

I felt so honored.

Ada rounded on Ms. Protean. “So you are helping me? Then what was all this?” she asked, waving her hand in a circle.

“It’s a lesson in learning to relax,” Ms. Protean said, shuffling her papers. “I figured you’d tire yourself out until you were forced to stop worrying, then we could have a rational discussion.”

I frowned. Rational discussion… Just like the one that Uncle Gregory wanted to have with me.

Ada seemed far from relaxed. “Mr. Ducharme is about to have my head. I’ll only be able to relax once we stop the leak in Jinshu Security. I’ve already gone through the hyenas, but I know there’s wolf involvement.”

“So again, I ask, why not go to Mr. Fernandez?” Ms. Protean was frowning at the hyena shifter. “He’s even onsite. Unless you suspect him?”

“Mr. Fernandez?” I couldn’t help but ask—his name seemed familiar.

“Matheus Fernandez,” Ms. Protean responded. “I believe you’ve briefly met. He was shot during the Daniel Cole situation.”

“Oh.” I twisted my hands in front of me. I still felt bad about that—it’d been my fault after all. The last I’d seen the burly man, he’d been laying—in wolf form—in his own blood while Bryce was passed-out at the table. “Is he okay now?”

Ada’s attention snapped to me and she lifted her chin, nostrils flaring. “Guilt?” she asked. “You’re the little fae he was trying to protect.” She let out a long breath, brow furrowing, and her appraising stare kept me rooted in place. “Why does your scent seem familiar?”

“Ada, meet Bianca Dubois.” Ms. Protean moved around her desk until she was at my side. The older woman seemed taller than I remembered, but then again, she wasn’t leaning on her walking stick at the moment. “She is my assistant and will be helping me with this case.”

“Dubois…” Ada’s eyes narrowed, and I could see the wheels in her head turning. “The Dubois family has no younger women.”

“She’s married to Bryce,” Ms. Protean said lightly. “They’re newlyweds.”

Ada’s distrustful stare grew harsher, and she stepped forward, obviously inspecting me. “That’s even more suspicious.”

“Why?” I breathed, and it wasn’t until she raised her eyebrow that I realized I’d even spoken out loud.

“You’re not his type—least, not that I’m aware of. But he is full of surprises.” She snatched her gold clutch from the seat of Ms. Protean’s worn leather chair. “Now there’s something else for me to worry about,” she was grumbling. “That idiot is up to something, I swear. Where’s Xavier?”

My Xavier? If he’d kept the same schedule, he should be in French class right now. I opened my mouth to respond, but she brushed past me, addressing only Ms. Protean as she looked back. “I’ll set up a meeting.”

“Make sure you really do trust them, and I’ll attend as a witness,” Ms. Protean responded airily. “That’s all I ask. I don’t go on adventures anymore.”

Without another word—but one last, side-long glance to me—Ada left, slipping into the hallway and walking away with almost a dizzying, yet inspiring, speed for someone in such high heels.

I had so many questions about the entire exchange, but first and foremost, “Why’s she looking for Xavier?”

Ms. Protean slipped past me and moved back to her desk. “Probably to ask about you.”

I bit my lip, shutting the door then moving to the center of Ms. Protean’s small office.

I hadn’t been back since the day I’d trapped Uncle Caleb—a phrase I was still trying to get used to but was far more difficult than Gregory—and the space now seemed… different.

There was a pile of disorganized books in the corner, where I’d last seen the angry ghost, and the top of the desk, which had been so organized before, was covered with open notebooks and pieces of yarn. Four coffee mugs were stacked in columns of two along the short corner.

Ms. Protean, too, seemed off. Her neat hair was no longer well-kept, and loose, long tendrils curled around her face. She must have seen me staring, because once she sat down, she pulled out her hair clip, freeing her long ash-colored curls.

“What is it?” she asked, smoothing her hair back once more and twisting it into the clip.

“Oh.” I’d lost my train of thought, and my face warmed. “Why would she go to Xavier to ask about me?”

“Because you’re a Dubois,” she replied, finishing up with her hair and moving her hands to the table. “She knows that Bryce and Brayden won’t tell her anything. But Xavier is in her quintet, and also fae, so he’d be willing to talk to her.”

“Why, though?” I never quite understood the big deal. “What is this obsession with fae women? Just how many of us are at this school?”

She raised her eyebrow and pushed a pencil behind her ear. “Two, I believe, including you.”

“Two?” I couldn’t breathe. In that case, whose terrible plan had it been to hide me here? Even more importantly, who was this other fae girl?

“Just two,” Ms. Protean answered. “Though there’s a few dozen men here as well.”

I still didn’t understand the big deal. “Do I know this girl? What about the other people at this school?” I asked. “What groups make up most of the population?”

“I doubt you know her, she’s a senior and is… fiercely independent. Besides the fae—who are outnumbered—the rest of the groups: shifters, witches, necromancers, and onmyoji, are mostly-evenly distributed,” she said. “Please sit down, your fidgeting is worrisome.”

I sucked in a breath at the last part of her statement—I hadn’t even noticed that I’d been shifting my weight back and forth until she’d pointed it out—and slowly sunk into the abandoned seat that Ada had obviously been using earlier. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Ms. Protean was now rummaging around in a drawer, and after her command she straightened, pushing a white napkin and a small water bottle across her desk. “Take that.”

“Take…” I began, not entirely sure what she was on about, before I spotted the two orange pills. “Oh.” I’d forgotten—this was yet another con with being around shifters during that time of the month. “I’m fine.”

She stared at me, one gray eyebrow slowly raising as her disapproval visibly bore into me. “Mr. Abernathy has threatened to send that horrible creature of his after me.” She pulled out a bright red cellphone and perched a dainty pair of glasses on her nose as she read, “He says, and I quote, ‘I leave it to you to care for the blossom of my soul, otherwise I will destroy everything you hold dear.’ There’s more veiled threats of an unsavory nature but the gist is that you’re to take this ‘second-class medication’ until he can ‘hold you in his arms once more’.”

Oh my God.

I hid my face in my hands, my pulse pounding in my ears as my embarrassment burned down to my toes. “I’m so sorry!”

“Why now?” She lowered her phone and peered at me over the top of her glasses.

“Because…” Wasn’t it obvious? “He’s just so… him.”

“That is how an onmyoji loves someone.” Ms. Protean lowered her phone back to the table, and the look she gave me was strangely serious. “In an overbearing way that might sometimes be annoying. But they feel with all their heart.”

Now my pulse was racing for a different reason. “That can’t be true,” I muttered. “They don’t all have the same personality.”

“No…” She braced her arm on the table, and she sounded sad as she said, “They don’t. But one thing to keep in mind is that onmyojis are passionate, even if they have different ways of showing that passion. Once they’re fixated on something, they’re obsessed. It can be rather unhealthy.”

But… That wasn’t true at all. Because Damen didn’t love me.

If he did, he wouldn’t push me away so often.

“Here’s some unsolicited advice: go to the doctor. You should not be in this much pain. Have you been around Mr. Ducharme at all since your cycle began?”

“No!” I was close to panic at the sudden turn in subject. “Why?”

“He’s your mate, Bianca.” Ms. Protean closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Even if you wanted to hide this from him, he’s going to be able to tell. Nobody knows how a mated dragon will act, but I can’t imagine he’d let you pretend this away. Besides, you also have Mr. Montrone and Mr. Kohler to contend with, and if I recall, they can feel you. It’s no wonder Mr. Abernathy is concerned. But for your own sake, be proactive and go to the doctor—this is not something you should ignore.”

“It’s fine!” I snatched the pills and put them in my mouth before guzzling the water. I hadn’t even considered that they’d be physically in-tune with my bodily functions. Now I really had to be careful, because this could be bad. There was no way to hide from the others for the next two to three days.

I could only hope my luck would hold out and it wouldn’t be terrible this time. Stay hydrated, and definitely no puking and fainting.

“No one has reason to be worried,” I added. Especially not once the pills kick in.

I, most definitely, was not worried.

Ms. Protean remained silent for a moment, and I could see I hadn’t convinced her of anything.

Thankfully, though, she let the subject drop. Ms. Protean leaned forward in her seat, locking her fingers under her chin. “Have you given my offer much thought?”

“Thought?” I asked even though I knew what she meant. This was the reason I assumed she called me here to begin with.

“I presumed already, and obviously introduced you as such too. If you’re going to be staying on campus even though you’re on leave, you might as well earn some points for an independent study program with me. After all, you only seemed to be a short distance away when I needed you.” She inclined her head toward the door. Her point was obvious.

I blushed. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I have my ways.”

“Where’s Cécile?” The white Persian’s absence hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed.

The older woman pulled back a fraction, surprise flicking across her face before it was masked over with cautious indifference. “Why?”

“I don’t think she’s a cat.” In fact, I was sure she wasn’t. “Is that how you knew where I was?”

She relaxed more with every word. “Yes.”

I knew it! “What is she?”

“A cat.” At my unmoved stare she briefly rolled her eyes. “She’s a shikigami.”

“A shikigami!” But how? I pressed my hands into my thighs—that wasn’t what I expected. With the way the creature’s eyes roamed over me, I was expecting some sort of demon—

Wait, Kasai was a shikigami and he was basically a demon too. So was Kiania. I hadn’t been wrong at all.

“How come everyone sees her?” Shikigami were supposed to be spirits. “She looks real. Where is the onmyoji?”

“The onmyoji who summoned Cécile belongs to my quintet, his name is Lee Sao,” she answered. “Cécile mostly stays with me these days. She can pass as a regular cat and also goes to Lee when he needs her. I am not at liberty to disclose how at the moment.”

Aw. Why couldn’t she tell me now?

“Does Damen know?”

“Mr. Abernathy…” Ms. Protean said slowly, pausing and glancing upward as she appeared to choose her next words carefully. “Sometimes Mr. Abernathy doesn’t see what’s right in front of him—unlike you. Or if he does notice, he chooses not to comment on it. But this is good, it shows you’ve been paying attention. Does this mean you’re accepting the position?” She seemed indifferent, but I could hear the underlying eagerness in her voice. “There’s no pay, of course.” Her features crumbled a bit and she sounded apologetic. “Not at least until you’re a senior, but this experience can count toward credits and—”

“Yes!” I clapped my hands together, unable to hold back my excited squeal.

“Yes, what?” A weary voice cut into our conversation.

I turned in my seat, pressing myself against the back of the chair as Bryce, who stood in the doorway, studied me. “What have you been up to that has Uncle Gregory in a mood?”

Ms. Protean scoffed, “When isn’t he in a mood?”

“He didn’t tell you?” I gasped. After all his posturing, I’d at least thought he’d given Bryce some kind of forewarning. “He’s angry because I don’t want to study with him.”

“Oh.” Bryce deflated a bit at my statement—like he was expecting something far more profound. “Why?”

“Does it matter why?” Because the two of them have been suffocating me with mundane activities. “I want to study with Ms. Protean.”

“Gloria,” Ms. Protean interrupted, lazily dipping her tea bag into her cup. “I’d rather you call me ‘Gloria’ if you’re going to be working with me,” she clarified.

Bryce glanced between the two of us, and I could see the hesitance in his face. The lines under his eyes were drawn and haggard, and I almost forgot what we were even talking about.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken to him alone, honestly, or even saw him around the house—even though Finn had said he’d been bothering him in the library.

Why did he look so tired?

“I don’t know.” He sounded so defeated and my breath caught. “I don’t understand why it’s an issue, but Uncle Gregory is really against it.”

Ms. Protean dropped her spoon, and it fell against the tiny saucer with a clatter. “He’s… what?” She stared, open-mouthed, at Bryce. “Why in the world—”

“Please don’t ask me.” Bryce began to rub his temples. “I don’t have time for this. He won’t even say why, and none of this makes sense. Maybe he’s afraid Bianca will get hurt?”

“That is…” Ms. Protean—Gloria—pursed her lips as she glowered at the man. “Insulting. You can just tell him that—”

“I’m not going to tell anyone anything.” Bryce opened his tired eyes and pointed at Gloria’s phone. “If you have a problem, you two can talk to each other. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear about it. I’m tired of this drama.”

All my protests and arguments faded at the furious glint in his eyes, and I found myself ducking down a few inches behind the seat. Thankfully, his attention wasn’t even on me, but rather on the wolf behind me.

Brayden was grouchy today, and now Bryce too?

I’d never seen either of them like this before.

Maybe…

Was there also a reason why Uncle Gregory was upset today too? Maybe it had nothing to do with Gloria. It seemed like something larger was going on that I didn’t know about.

My movements caught Bryce’s attention, and I pressed my nose to the back of the chair.

His eyes widened as the annoyance faded from his face, and when he spoke next, his voice was lower than before. “Bianca,” he cajoled, “what do you want to do?”

I didn’t respond—a million scenarios were racing through my mind, and I tried to figure out what I might have done wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have yelled at Uncle Gregory on the phone, or been nice to Damen? That’s what made Brayden mad. But that wasn’t right, there was nothing wrong with me being nice to Damen, and I hadn’t even known that I was doing anything that might be noticed.

That wasn’t really my fault, right?

Or maybe there was something else—some way I’d been inadvertently offending them all without realizing.

What should I do?

“Bianca?” Bryce was watching me, eyes heavy with expectation. He was waiting for an answer.

My eyes filled with tears as my thoughts remained stuck in old patterns.

“Do you want to go back to Uncle Gregory?” Bryce asked, cautious gaze softer than what I’d come to expect from him. “He really would like for you to work with him.”

I shook my head. Even if it offended the older man, I wasn’t getting anything done that way.

“Okay.” Bryce took one slow step into the room. “Then do you want to work with Gloria when you come to the school?”

I nodded. But, wouldn’t they be mad—

“Then you’ll study with Gloria.” He looked behind me. “You’re not taking on any cases like in the past?”

The past?

What kind of cases did Gloria usually work? I hadn’t even thought to ask her directly. But Ms. McKinnen had said—

“No.” Gloria’s voice had lost its angry edge. “I’m too old for that. Mostly sleuthing and acting as an intermediary at rendezvous points. But there’s nothing else today, at any rate, or tomorrow. I don’t expect to hear back from my client until later this week.”

Bryce shrugged, and my shallow breathing began to even out.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll deal with Uncle Gregory.” He held out his hand to me, and I stared at it. His usually clean hands, although they smelled of soap, were stained with red dirt and ash. “I’m going back home,” he said. “Come with me?”

My gaze followed the line of his arm to his face. Now that I was paying more attention, I noticed he even had smudges on his sleeves.

Was he working in the greenhouse?

“Bianca?” My spine tingled at the way he said my name, and I looked into his face. There was a certain level of expectation there, and right now, I didn’t feel like fighting it.

“Okay.”