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LUCIAN

G ideon threw his arm around my shoulders, and I allowed it, because I was too exhausted to argue. Not so much by the fights and rescue of my colleague as the extra sunshine I had to endure today.

“You’re the man, Regis. We brought back a full team thanks to you, you know that?”

By all the gods, that guy was going to kiss me to say hi if our acquaintance extended much longer.

We did end up getting the jet, hence why we were back to the Guard at three, with a plane filled with treasures.

“Not a bad haul for your last day, right?”

I couldn’t disagree. “Gotta love vamps. They do adore their trinkets.”

“And all the damn magic.”

Upstairs, he and I mostly saw treasures, but Towers and Parker, who handled the basement, also found a large stash of stored magic—highly illegal, and devastating in the wrong hands, particularly outside of Highvale.

Storing magic used to be a common enough practice: on slow days, without using too much power, a sorcerer would extract their excess of magic into a sealed container, to be used at another time, to replenish themselves.

Only, some people forced magical creatures to drain their power in order to steal it from them.

And there were instances of people using those stolen power vials to get high.

Magic addiction was one of the biggest issues the runners handling day-to-day law enforcement in Highvale struggled with.

So while it wasn’t illegal to drain one’s magic, or even to purchase extra reserves, commercial-scale energy was highly regulated.

People who needed to drain themselves regularly were on a watchlist, for their own good, according to the council.

That would have included me, if I hadn’t been Lucian Regis.

I was mildly curious as to how the vampires got ahold of such a large stash. I supposed I’d have to reach out to Gideon in a few weeks to ask, if I truly wanted to know.

From what I understood of the mess we walked into, the vampire who’d sired a bunch of fledgings had then been killed by one of his proteges. Newly made, bloodthirsty, without a lick of sense, the idiots turned feral and brought attention to themselves.

Vampires weren’t our specialty. They tended to stick to themselves, and act pretty reasonably, otherwise, their own kind, or the huntsmen specifically designed to hunt those guys intervened.

But this lot had been so messy, the British authorities ended up misidentifying their actions as a demon’s, hence why it ended up on our plate.

With all of that dealt with, and despite the faint nausea I’d earned from my good deed, I was in a good mood.

I liked London. And I had enough time to pop by Fortnum and Mason for a few hampers. Mother loved their marmalade and tea. Bringing her some was going to make Damian twitch at our weekly Sunday lunch.

Besides, as of today, in exactly three hours, I no longer had to slave away at the Guard, and I could properly turn my attention to the next important item on my list: revenge on my dearest elder brother.

“Don’t forget about tonight, right?” Before I could say a single word, Gideon reminded me, “You promised.”

I indeed gave my word I’d show up to his damn club, after he threatened to make his cousin ask me.

“I’ll be there,” I grunted. That conversation reminded me of the flask that had been in my pocket for an entire week, burning holes in my mind. “Will your cousin really come?”

Gideon’s grin got on my nerves.

“I owe her faebloom,” I explained to make him stop. “I haven’t seen her since I promised it to her.”

No longer amused with me, he frowned. “Dunno. She’s made herself scarce last week. But she said she’d come. So, probably?”

That was excellent news. Because of the essence. I wouldn’t want to have to return to the vale and hunt her down to fulfill my side of the bargain.

“I hope she’s all right. She looks stressed,” Gideon said, his usual easy demeanor tenser.

I thought back to the few times I caught a glimpse of the witch over the last week.

In a hurry, grabbing a sandwich at the cafeteria.

I packed my own lunches—I’d pass on bland food potentially seasoned with poison.

That said, our office was too cramped and tiny to eat in there, so I tagged along with Gideon most days.

Kleos waved at him a time or two, and rushed out. I figured she must be busy at work.

Archivists were some of the most in-demand employees in the Guard, flying around every division.

They collected, categorized, analyzed, described, restored, safely stored and preserved any artifact brought in.

Taking five entire sublevels, nestled between the Guard and the Hall of Truce, the archives was a great library, a museum, an armory, and a vault combined.

It was my understanding that trainees ran around grabbing new items left and right.

“She won’t be impressed when she hears about our bounty, then.”

Just from the raid this morning, there were a hundred or more individual items to catalog.

“What?” He chuckled. “No, Kleos doesn’t get stressed about work. The nerd loves getting her hands on interesting stuff. Plus, paperwork and filing shit makes her happy. It’s something else. I’ll wrangle it out of her eventually, if it lasts much longer.”

The thought of the brute wrangling anything out of anyone was laughable. He was as subtle as a jackhammer. Perhaps his plan was physically wrestling it out of Kleos, in which case, he might just succeed.

“Let me know if I can help.” The moment the offer was out, I regretted it.

I meant it. But I hated the knowing, goofy smirk Gideon currently sported.

“You do realize I don’t have designs on her, don’t you?” I spelled out for him. “She’s just…interesting.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He didn’t stop grinning. It took some effort, but I prevented myself from punching him. “Let’s get the paperwork over with. If I never see a bloody Guard report again, it’ll be too soon.”

Gideon pouted. “I’m gonna miss you, man. You’re sure I can’t convince you to stay?”

I laughed all the way back to the office.

“ C an I have your pen?”

I knew it was only going to earn me more mockery, but I was desperate. There was no way I’d finish by six if I had to copy all the nonsense twice .

Gideon lifted his head from his own pile of paperwork. “What?”

“The pen.” I gestured to the chewed-up ballpoint pen, half broken, and taped up by now. “That’s the one Kleos enchanted, right? Could I borrow it today? I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” I added quickly.

I didn’t want to.

I spent far too many hours last weekend trying to figure out how she managed that specific enchantment, all to no avail. Sue me, stationery wasn’t part of my areas of expertise. And I still had twenty pages to fill up. Twice .

“Come on. You owe me a pen anyway.” I’d ruined a lovely one saving his ass. “And I have at least three hours of work left, and it’s my last day. Please?”

It wasn’t a word I often used, but I didn’t think Gideon was the kind of man to gloat over it.

“Two seconds,” he replied, holding his index up before bringing his phone to his ear.

I narrowed my eyes at him dangerously.

Tell me he didn’t…

“Yeah, Kley? You busy?”

A slight pause. I took the opportunity and bared my teeth at him. He only smiled.

“Please can you come up? I’ll put the kettle on.” He hung up, self-satisfied. “There.”

“You do realize I can legally murder you, right?” I checked.

Perhaps he wasn’t aware.

Instead of quaking in fear, the buffoon chortled. “You wouldn’t. You like me too much. And you know you want her to enchant your pen. You should have asked last week.”

He was much, much more observant than I’d assumed.

I didn’t bother to continue the tiresome form as we waited for the witch.

Instead, I decided to make the tea, breaking open one of the hampers packed in one of the boxes I’d take with me tonight.

One was for my parents; another, for my fraternal grandmother; a third, for my cousin, Kore; and the one including scotch, for Ronan.

The fifth was a spare. Might as well use it.

Opting to break out my own tea set, still on its tray in my drawer, I prepared three cups of loose leaf Lady Grey, each with a dehydrated lemon slice, set honey and sugar in their small ball, before placing one shortbread on each saucer.

“ Dude .” I didn’t bother to acknowledge that with an answer, so predictably, Gideon continued. “Are you a grandma in a very convincing disguise?”

I glanced at his four mugs. They must have been white at one time, but the constant tea and coffee stains made them all appear distinctly muddy. Hence why I had not ever accepted a cup of tea from my coworker of six months. That didn’t stop him from offering.

“Not all of us are heathens.”

“I mean, I saw that fancy-ass teacup before, but I didn’t realize you had the whole tray and everything.” He shook his head. “You people are weird.”

“I believe you mean civilized.”

“No, no. I meant weird.” He waves to my elegant tray.

“I mean, I get it. The pretty china, the custom suits, the hand kisses and holding doors open. That’s one thing.

But how in the name of all that is unholy are you also fucking lethal?

You gotta choose, man. You’re either a barbarian or a goddamn princess. ”

Princess. I had heard worse insults.

“My grandfather trained me,” I told him.

It wasn’t common knowledge, but after six months of acquaintance, I was curious about his reaction.

His smile disappeared, replaced by wide, alarmed eyes. “Wait, you mean?—”

I nodded.

Everyone knew the name Cassius Regis.

Thirty-three years ago, he snapped and attempted to annihilate the majority of Highvale’s population—something he could and would have managed, had my mother, his own daughter, not intervened, along with some of the other founders.

People were not about to forget seven hundred deaths, and a threat to thousands more people. All new bloods, all valers.