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Did I accidentally say something in the past? I must have, otherwise, why would he be telling me this? Should I say nothing now in case he interprets it as another criticism?

My mind spun as I tried to figure out the best choice, but I was paralyzed with indecision.

Juggernaut, seemingly deciding my awkward silence meant the conversation was over, gave me a business-like nod and settled into a chair next to April.

I wasn’t so sure it had been agoodconversation, but at least it had gone better than those in the past.

That’s encouraging—maybe I’m finally getting somewhere! Should I apologize to him if he thinks I’m grading his abilities? I can’t remember when I would have said something that would make him think that…maybe I was so nervous at the time I babbled without realizing what I was saying?

More of our squadmates sauntered into the room—it was almost muster time.

I hurriedly sucked down the rest of my smoothie as everyone settled into place, as usual leaving me and my table alone.

By the time Captain Reese stepped into the room, accompanied by Sarge, I was settled into place with my slayer mask resting on the table in front of me.

Either way, I was able to reach out to a squadmate today. I just need to keep trying, and maybe eventually they’ll be friendly with me too.

* * *

After muster,we were given our patrol teams—we covered the entire city over the course of our shift unless we got a call, but Sarge changed who we were sent out with every night to promote squad unity.

Tonight, I was out with Grove and Brody.

We’d been assigned the downtown area, so we were starting at the edge—not too far away from my apartment, actually.

I studied the dimmed innards of a local café, Queen’s Court, as we turned off King’s Court Drive and onto Main Street, officially beginning our patrol.

Brody was scenting the air, leading the way, with Grove trudging along next to him, and me bringing up the rear.

“These Friday fish fries are gonna kill me.” Brody coughed as he tried to clear his nose. “The smell permeates the air so much it covers other scents.”

This observation was about as conversational as Brody got, which meant it was an excellent moment to say something.

Unfortunately, I’d been trying to casually check behind us—I took my position as rearguard seriously—so I didn’t realize it until Grove spoke, taking the opportunity before I could.

“Good boy,” Grove absently said, his voice lacked the typical snootiness of a fae despite the almost-insult. (Wolves didnotlike being compared to dogs.)

“I’ve said before, don’t call me that,” Brody snapped.

“Sorry.” Grove fanned his face with his hand, trying to stir the humid air. “Hey, I tried to improve the scent of this potion. What do you think of it?” Grove ruffled his short coppery colored hair that was cut in different lengths—as if his stylist had gotten bored with the task—but somehow still looked fashionable on the fae. He grabbed a glass bottle from his belt, uncorked it, then shoved it under Brody’s nose before the werewolf had a chance to reply.

“What—ugh!” Brody gagged, then staggered a step away from Grove. “Dude, whatisthat?”

“It’s a health potion.” Grove put the cork back in the potion, then studied the label. “Oh, oops. I misspoke. This is part of my newest poison brew. My apologies, I grabbed the wrong bottle,” Grove sounded genuinely apologetic as he put the bottle back into the depths of his leather bag.

I kept an ear on their conversation as I studied the streets, eyeing the few humans that were out. I touched the deadly pointed hair stick tucked into my belt—I’d put the weapon to good use before when I had long hair and did undercover work but I kept it with me because now, facing multiple kinds of supernaturals in Magiford, a variety of weapons was a combat boost.

“Ugh, that was awful,” Brody moaned and slapped a hand over his nose. “You don’t keep it anywhere near the health potions, right? You’ll kill one of us if you administer that by accident!”

“No, no. I keep them in separate areas. See, this is a potion.” Grove plucked another bottle from his bag; this one was made of green glass. Grove blinked, then turned the bottle around. “Wait, this is another poison.”

“If I ever find out who decided to hireyouto work as a medic, there is going to be a tussle,” Brody grunted. “Also, why do you carry so many poisons?”

“Because I hope to use them, obviously.”

I smiled, safely hidden behind my mask. My humor dropped when I felt the back of my throat ache, and I faintly detected the metallic scent of blood.

“Brody.” I spun, staring down a street that connected with ours and ran south. It was a touch past dusk, but the street felt smoky from the muted light the city cast on the gray clouds that hung low in the sky. “Blood.”