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“But you hate him,” I said.

The serene expression dropped from her face, and she picked up her knitting. “Indeed.”

“Is there a reason heshouldn’tknow?” Did it have anything to do with Mr. Weaver’s still barely concealed anger.

“I personally don’t care,” Ms. Protean said. “But fae are very particular about their women. They rarely allow women to cross into this realm. And, historically, the majority of your officers are men. He hasn’t said it yet, which surprises me, but I’m certain Caleb is having a spiritual coronary at the mere idea ofyou—Mu—being a female.”

“It’s too dangerous!” Mr. Weaver nodded. “She’s delicate. It’s not possible.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, anger prickling my senses.NowI was delicate? He didn’t seem to think so earlier.

“Gregory’s attitude is only slightly better.” She began to knit again. “The fae wouldn’t know the first thing to do under female leadership. So, you see why the first female Xing being born fae is a comedic twist of fate.”

“You’re loving this.” Mr. Weaver glared darkly at Ms. Protean.

“Maybe.” The corner of her mouth lifted, and her gaze flashed over me.

“Do you think it’s karma?” I offered, trying to distract from Mr. Weaver’s tightening expression and the heavy tension descending on the room. “Because of the fae’s uptight attitudes and outdated beliefs?”

She watched me, silent for a short moment longer, before she smiled. The expression softened the harsh lines of her face. “I think this will work fabulously.”

“You’d say that,” Mr. Weaver grumbled.

“We’ll keep your secret. And don’t worry about Gregory. See what the others have planned.” She turned her attention back to her project. “In regards to our earlier discussion, I think it’s safe to take off the semester—if you so wish. Afterward, if you should you decide that you have an interest in investigation, I may be open to taking on a protégée.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Miles

Pentacles

“You wanted to see us?” Abigail Geier stepped into the room, defiance written on her face, in the haughty way she crossed legs and in her refusal to meet my eyes.

Jonathan on the other hand silently followed after his wife, taking a seat in the empty chair beside her.

I’d skipped my afternoon classes—something that I would never tell Bianca—in order to make this meeting with her adoptive parents. Dean Abernathy had been kind enough to allow me to use his private office for the long-overdue confrontation.

He had only given me a glance, shaking his head, before he left—muttering under his breath about not wanting to be in their position.

I had no idea what he was talking about. Compared to the others and their rules… and their vengeance, I was the least intimidating of my group.

For example, my subjects never feared for their lives. The same couldn’t be said of everyone else. Garrett Cole was an exception, not the rule.

So why would this confrontation be any different?

Why would Titus—upon hearing that I was going to meet with the two witches—ask me not tokillthem?

Everyone was so dramatic. I didn’t usually kill people.

I leaned over the desk, linking my fingers under my chin as the Geiers twitched under my gaze. They seemed nervous. What in the world did they think I was going to do?

“Do you know why I called you here?” I asked, turning my gaze to Jonathan.

It was Abigail who answered. “Yes…” She pressed her hands over her knees. “Hanah called us. But we already knew when Bianca was taken from the hospital.”

“That wasn’t a hospital,” I pointed out. “That was a prison. Do you knowwhatthe nursing staff was doing behind Dr. Kohler’s back? Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” she blinked, her fingernails digging into the arm of her chair. “She’s my best friend’s daughter. You didn’t see what I saw—how she lived. She needed… still needs… help. She was somewhere she could relax. We paid good money—”