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twelve

Cal

Cal mustered his best, most charming smile.

“I know it’s technically against regulations, but like I said, this is an urgent matter.” He batted his eyelashes, leaning in across the counter.

“Maybe you could make an exception, just this once?”

The court clerk across the polished teak counter from him appeared thoroughly unimpressed.

“Like I said, I can’t do that. Now, unless there’s anything else I can help you with today, I need to ask you to leave so that I can assist someone else.”

Cal muffled a sigh.

So much for sweet-talking her.

The woman seemed utterly immune to his charm.

Perhaps he should have gone with a different disguise.

But his strapping young dockworker persona usually worked so well on people like her.

Add in a few muscles and an earnest demeanor, and you had a winning combination.

Another clerk approached from behind the counter.

She held up a stack of forms. “Hey, Dores, do you have a moment? I could use your help with these.”

Dores’s entire demeanor shifted in an heartbeat.

She turned to the new clerk with a broad smile.

“Of course. Here, let me see.”

Instantly, Cal realized his mistake.

A male disguise had never stood a chance.

Shadow and shade, this was what he got for rushing and not properly vetting his target beforehand.

Kelsith had trained him better than that.

But he was sick of feeling like he and Griff were chasing their tails around in circles.

Griff might enjoy this sort of tedious detective-work, but Cal wasn’t cut out for it.

Who the Void went to this much trouble to hide their operations behind layers of paperwork?

Whoever buys highly illegal void relics, apparently…

While he waited for the clerks to finish chatting, he pondered what to do now.

Their latest lead concerned a supplier named Humbrian Shipping that had done business with several of the names from their list, including Derimay Development.

He and Griff had managed to hunt down one of their ships, and while the captain hadn’t been able to supply too many details about his employer, he’d mentioned that Humbrian Shipping had been involved in some recent business dispute.

The magisters had resolved the case several weeks ago, but the court records should be stored here, and Cal refused to leave without them.

Especially after swearing to Griff that he’d have no issues obtaining them on his own.

Kelsith would have been disappointed in his messiness with the clerk.

He’d caught his former mentor monitoring their investigation this past week.

Unless Kelsith’s skills had seriously declined since they’d last worked together, that meant the thief had wanted Cal to see him.

Cal hadn’t forgotten their conversation outside the Treasury, nor Kelsith’s offer.

He’d felt certain at the time in his decision to turn it down.

Yet every now and then, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to return to that old life.

To work once more alongside his former partner in crime.

But then his thoughts would drift to Griff.

The investigation itself might be a bit dull, sure.

Cal had been tempted on more than one occasion to declare them even, his debt to the investigator fulfilled.

Not that there was much Griff could do to stop him if he decided to slip away in the middle of the night.

Yet he hadn’t. The truth was, he’d appreciated his time with Griff despite the tedium.

It felt good to have a genuine partner…

even if it was only temporary.

Not to mention the ceaseless joy he got from toying with Griff.

It was all too easy to fluster the stoic inspector.

Cal thought back to the other night, and a slow, simmering heat coiled in his belly.

He swallowed hard, as if that could douse the rising flames.

The way Griff had looked at him, he’d thought the inspector was about to…

well, it didn’t matter.

Maybe Cal wasn’t as good at reading people as he thought.

He focused back on the troublesome clerk as her workmate wandered off.

Let’s put that to the test…

When the clerk turned back to him, her good humor once again fading, he abandoned all attempts at charm.

Practically hurling himself at the counter, he clutched his hands together, his voice pleading.

“Please, you’ve gotta help me. The truth is, I messed up an important contract for Humbrian Shipping that’s related to the matter discussed in this court case. If I don’t find a way to make things right, they’ll fire me for sure. I can’t afford to lose this job. My family is depending on me.”

As he’d hoped, unabashed begging finally elicited some sympathy.

Dores hesitated a beat before shaking her head.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could do more to help. But I really can’t let you look at those records. If I got caught, it could cost me my job.”

He let his shoulders slump, feigning abject dejection.

“All right. I understand.” Bowing his head, he started to trudge away.

Three. Two. One…

Satisfaction seized him when the clerk called out, “Wait!”

Muffling his smirk, he plastered on a hopeful expression and hurried back to the counter.

Dores glanced around the empty office, then lowered her voice.

“I can’t let you look at the records…but maybe I can go check them myself for what you need. Would it help to know the name listed for the defendant?”

Cal struggled to hold back his glee, bobbing his head.

“Thanks, Dores! You’re a lifesaver!”

He waited by the counter as the clerk vanished through a door into the back.

He tried to peek after her to catch a glimpse of the layout, but he couldn’t see much.

Too bad. If this didn’t work, sneaking inside to steal the records would be Plan B.

Griff probably wouldn’t approve, but what the inspector didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Thankfully, breaking and entering proved unnecessary.

Within minutes, Dores had returned with the name of the defendant: Splendor Investments.

It sounded vaguely familiar to Cal, though he couldn’t place why.

Thanking Dores profusely, he rushed out of the courthouse and down the bustling street.

Here at the heart of Derimay, the colorful streets were always busy.

He spent the walk back to Griff’s apartment turning the name over and over in his head.

But its source still eluded him when he spied the familiar brick building that, despite his best efforts, he’d begun to think of as home.

Griff was already inside when he arrived.

The investigator was seated at his kitchen table, poring over scattered pages of notes and muttering to himself.

He didn’t immediately notice Cal, and Cal took a moment to admire the broad slope of his shoulders.

The distinguished lines of his face.

The adorable divot he got in his forehead when he was tackling a particularly hard problem.

Cal’s gaze lingered on a small scar near the inspector’s hairline, barely visible.

The shape of it reminded him of the twinkling stars he used to lay on his back at night and watch from abandoned rooftops as a kid, dreaming of a better life off in the heavens.

Cal tore his eyes away.

Clearing his throat to announce his presence, he slid into the seat across from Griff.

“Got anything?”

Griff glanced up at him, then frowned back down at the mess of papers.

“Nothing we didn’t already know. Humbrian Shipping transports all sorts of goods all across the city from as far away as Nalax. I’ve been compiling a list of every company they work with that has ties back to Jumic Enterprises or one of its subsidiaries, as well as who they do business with.” He shook his head and sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“As you can imagine, it’s a Void-cursed mess. Whatever group is behind all this must have deep, deep pockets. The docks, the markets—Merciful Light, they even make shipments to the Siren’s Call theater!”

Shock rippled through Cal.

He sat bolt upright in his chair as the name from the court case finally clicked into place.

“Eternal Dark! I knew I’d heard the name before!”

At Griff’s questioning look, he hastened to explain.

“I got that record from the clerk’s office—despite you doubting me, I might add—and it identified the defendant as Splendor Investments. My Lord Heneford alias has a minor stake in the Siren’s Call, but I’m far from the only investor. Splendor Investments is another. Their contribution puts my own paltry one to shame.”

A ripple of unease coursed over Cal as he shifted his gaze to the scattered papers.

The full weight of his revelation settled on his shoulders, and he swallowed.

“And you’re right—they are exceedingly powerful. They should be, since they’re run by the Pentarchy itself.”

Griff’s eyes widened.

“Are you certain?”

Cal gave a reluctant nod, slumping back in his seat.

“From what I understand, it’s part of a slush fund used to bankroll their various interests across the city. That’s why we’ve been chasing down so many random leads. They have essentially unlimited resources, so long as they can get approval from one of the councilor’s offices.”

“So, Griff said, a hint of hope creeping into his voice. “That means that anyone working for the Pentarchy with access to the fund might be to blame, right?

”

His face fell as Cal once more slowly shook his head.

“A purchase as large as the void orb would’ve required considerable rearranging of funds to hide. Only members of the Pentarchy have that sort of authority.”

Silence descended in the wake of Cal’s pronouncement.

They’d suspected the involvement of corrupt government officials all along.

Hence why Griff had agreed to keep their investigation a secret.

But suspecting something and having proof, however tentative, were very different.

At least one of Sanjarka’s five councilors was almost certainly behind a conspiracy involving the most dangerous magic in Allaria.

Maybe I should’ve fled Derimay when I had the chance…

“What else do you know about this slush fund?” Griff finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Is there any way to figure out which councilor authorized the purchase?”

Cal shrugged.

“I’m a thief, not a banker. But I doubt the records we have will be enough to deduce it, even for Derimay’s foremost detective. From what I’ve heard, the Pentarchy all share equal access to this account, so any one of them could have pulled it off.”

Griff nodded grimly, looking like he’d expected as much.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders.

Cal couldn’t help admiring the determined glint in his eyes.

“We need to learn more,” Griff said.

“Now that we have a sense of who we’re dealing with, our next step should be to speak with the individual members of the Pentarchy directly so that we can identify any potential motives.”

Cal raised his hands in a warding gesture, his eyes widening.

“Whoa, hold on there. You know I’m all for daring break-ins or dramatic confrontations. But these aren’t Brotherhood smugglers we’re talking about here. One word from them could get us executed—or worse, tossed in a cell for the rest of our lives!”

Griff’s chair skidded over the wooden floor as he rose and began to pace.

“Precisely. Before I make such a serious accusation, I need irrefutable proof…and that means determining a suspect and a motive.”

Cal rolled his eyes.

Disbelief tinged his voice.

“Yeah, sure. Because that sounds like such a piece of cake. What would you ask them, anyway? ‘Excuse me, sir or madam. Are you by chance involved in any diabolical plots at the moment?’” Cal snorted.

“And that’s assuming you can even convince them to meet with you anytime soon.”

“High Judge Septima and High Commander Pern won’t be a problem. As for the others, I’ll figure something out. I am, after all, still the hero of the hour for that blackmailing case. I might as well put that good will to use.”

Cal couldn’t decide whether to admire Griff’s stubborn doggedness or to disdain it.

“You really mean to go through with this, don’t you?” When Griff only nodded distractedly, lost in thought as he continued to pace, Cal sighed.

“Of course you do. Well, in that case, we need a plan to approach them, ideally without revealing that they’re under investigation. I don’t suppose you could finagle an invitation to a private council meeting?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Griff’s eyes widened.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed.

Cal slowly stood, watching with a confused expression as Griff rushed across the room to his desk shoved in a corner.

Fumbling through the messy stacks of papers there, he eventually emerged with a thick roll of parchment.

He held it up triumphantly.

“Got it!”

Cal eyed the scroll, raising a brow.

“Let me guess: that magically contains all the answers to all our problems.”

Griff’s small grin caught Cal off-guard, sending a lingering wave of warmth through him.

“Pretty much. It’s an invitation to tomorrow’s state gala celebrating the 15th anniversary of open trade with Vantor. All of the Pentarchy will be there. It’s the perfect opportunity to speak with them one on one while their guards are down.”

Griff rushed to retrieve his notebook and Vantoric pen from the table.

Cal watched him go, impressed by his sheer enthusiasm.

It was hard not to find his excitement contagious.

“We need to start planning how best to approach each of the councilors,” Griff said, scribbling frantically on the pad.

“We’ll also need to review all the intel we’ve gathered thus far to make sure our records are accurate in case they need to be used as evidence.”

Cal stood there for a long moment, watching the inspector work.

The lingering embers in him kindled to life, and he was startled to find a fond smile stretching his lips.

Eternal Dark, what had come over him?

Sure, he’d had his fair share of celebrations as Blackjack after a successful job.

But those usually amounted to enjoying a drink or a fine dinner.

And before that, there’d been Kelsith, but their celebrations had been short-lived at best. Kelsith had never been one to stop and rest, always eager to move on to the next big thing, their next huge heist.

Cal recalled what Griff had confided in him the other night about his ex-wife.

He had a sneaking suspicion that, left to his own devices, Griff had that same impulsive drive as Kelsith.

Which meant, if there was going to be any genuine break, it would be up to Cal to facilitate it.

Striding over to Griff, he said, “Later. There will be plenty of time to plan tomorrow. First though, we need to stop and celebrate.”

Griff didn’t look up, continuing to write.

“I can’t. The gala’s tomorrow night, and every moment until then might be critical. We need to be prepared.”

“We will be, I swear.”

Cal rested his hand atop Griff’s shoulder.

Griff’s writing slowed as he cast a surprised look up at Cal.

Smirking, Cal took advantage of the distraction to snatch the pen from Griff’s grasp.

He danced back out of reach as Griff followed him up and tried to grab it back, then held it up.

“You can have this back after you’ve taken a break. Eternal Dark, Griff, you did it! You put in the hard work and finished the investigation. This part of it, in any case. Now, it’s time to rest and enjoy the fruits of your labor. There will be chance enough in the morning to figure out what to do next. Okay?”

Griff sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes.

“I suppose it has been a long week. A short break might help clear our heads.” He surprised Cal by meeting his gaze with an intent look.

“But I didn’t do anything. We did.”

Cal snorted, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

“You’re the investigator here, not me. I’m just a lowly thief along for the ride.”

“Whatever you call yourself, I never would’ve gotten this far without you. Certainly not so quickly. This is your victory as much as it is mine.”

A faint blush colored Cal’s cheeks, and he glanced away.

Kelsith had never been much for praise, doling it out only sparingly.

Cal found he rather liked the feeling…

especially when it came from Griff.

“In that case, here’s to us,” Cal said.

Raising an imaginary glass, he looked up just in time to see Griff snatch the pen back while he was distracted.

Griff held up the pen triumphantly, and Cal muffled an amused snort.

It was only then that he realized how close they were now, Griff a mere handful of paces away.

The tension from last night returned, thickening the air around them until Cal swore he was about to boil alive from the heat consuming him.

He knew he should pull away.

Not even a week ago, Griff had been nothing to him except the inspector sworn to apprehend Blackjack.

What they were doing flirted with disaster on so many different levels.

And yet…he made no move to retreat.

He couldn’t.

Neither did Griff.

Cal studied the inspector’s face, his expression as composed and unreadable as ever.

Cal’s skin prickled beneath his steadfast gaze.

For the first time, he wished he had Griff’s power instead of his own.

What he wouldn’t have given to be able to read Griff’s aura in that moment and know what he was thinking.

Was he struggling to decide what to do next?

Sudden shame welled up within him.

He didn’t want to force Griff into anything.

A bit of light-hearted flirting was one thing—making him genuinely uncomfortable quite another.

Faking a yawn, he raised his hands above his head.

“On second thought, I’m pretty beat. Perhaps I’ll call it an early night and…”

All words and rational thought fled him when Griff reached out to cradle his cheek.

His coarse fingers stroked over Cal’s stubble.

Cal found himself leaning into the touch.

“This is a bad idea,” he murmured.

“It won’t end well. For either of us.”

Griff snorted.

His fingers didn’t falter in their gentle caress.

“Trust me, I know. It doesn’t take much sleuthing to deduce that.”

Tentatively, Cal draped his arms around Griff’s muscled back.

His leather coat was slick to the touch.

“Then, why aren’t you walking away?”

Griff’s finger’s stilled, but he didn’t lower his hand.

His brown eyes were liquid pools drawing Cal in.

“Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

Cal managed a wavering smile even as his heart beat a staccato rhythm against his rib cage.

“I told you. It’s this Dark-cursed face of mine. Gets me into trouble every time. Or maybe it’s my winning sense of humor?” Shifting, he twisted his backside around toward Griff.

“Or is it my bottom that has you so riled up?”

“No,” Griff said, staring intently right at Cal.

“It’s the color of your soul.”

The words stole Cal’s breath, along with what little remained of his resolve.

To the Void with caution.

Surging forward, he slammed their lips together.

Griff’s fingers tightened on his jaw, and a light moan escaped him as he tasted Griff for the first time.

He felt aflame, desire pulsing in his veins like liquid heat.

His fingers mapped the muscled ridges of Griff’s back while their fronts ground together with desperate need.

Griff pulled away only long enough to toss his coat aside in a heap on the floor.

Their lips still locked, they stumbled toward the couch.

Griff shivered when Cal’s fingers found their way beneath his shirt to his bare skin.

Cal smirked at Griff, raising an eyebrow.

“I think you’re still overdressed for this particular celebration.”

Griff gave a startled snort.

His own fingers began working at Cal’s tunic.

“In that case, so are you. But not to worry—I’m on the case.”

Cal rolled his eyes at the cheesy line but couldn’t hold back his grin.

“My hero,” he said, raising his arms to make it easier for Griff to tug off his shirt.

Goosebumps pimpled his exposed skin.

He smirked when he caught Griff’s gaze riveted on his chest and made a point of flexing his lean muscles.

“What’s the matter, Inspector? Have you found something suspicious?”

Griff’s answer was little more than a hungry growl as he surged forward, entwining their bodies while pressing rough kisses along Cal’s neck that made him groan and arch with pleasure.

With a light shove, Griff sent him sprawling shirtless onto the couch.

“I’m not sure,” Griff said, his voice husky with desire.

“I think I may need to expand my search.”

Practically ripping off his own tunic, Griff let it drop to the floor, revealing his well-muscled physique.

Cal licked his lips, staring up at Griff’s hard nipples and the coarse black hair that ran down his sculpted chest, vanishing into his trousers.

If that was the sort of body being a detective got you, then Cal certainly wouldn’t complain.

Griff leaned down, devouring Cal’s mouth.

Cal eagerly let him, their tongues battling for dominance as Griff settled atop him.

Cal could feel every bit of Griff’s hardness pressed against him.

If he’d thought himself on fire before, now he was a scorched husk.

He reached up and ran his fingers through the coarse hair on Griff’s chest, pausing long enough to tweak his nipple.

Griff groaned, bucking atop him.

The naked lust in Griff’s dark gaze made Cal’s skin thrum with raw need, and he bit his bottom lip when he felt Griff’s fingers quest beneath the waistband of his trousers, gripping tight.

Griff started to lower his head down toward Cal’s legs.

Cal stopped him with a hand on his cheek.

Griff gave him a questioning look, and Cal smiled softly.

“You know, I’m curious. Just what does someone’s soul look like while in the throes of pleasure?”

A pleasurable shiver coursed over him as Griff gave him a gentle stroke.

Griff leaned in and kissed him, murmuring against his lips, “Let me show you.”