Page 40 of Whispers of Wisteria (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #5)

Besides, she must not know Damen well. He was the opposite of accommodating. In fact, he was always throwing a wrench into my plans.

She studied me further, her gaze calculating. “I don’t think that’s the route you’d need to take, but you could appeal to him. Mr. Abernathy isn’t as immune to persuasion as he’d like everyone to believe.”

“I think you’re wrong,” I muttered under my breath, but she ignored me.

“Regardless, consider this your first mission.” She pressed her hands against the tabletop. “Dress accordingly.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Still, I’d been waiting for this—a chance to help. To do something.

“O-okay.” I swallowed, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. “I’ll meet you then.”

Titus POV

There was a knock on my door before it swung open. Gregory stood there, frowning with a disapproving look only he could manage.

“Dr. Ducharme,” he said, stepping into my office without waiting for an invitation.

“Gregory,” I returned, turning my attention back to the paperwork Maria had dumped on my desk. “You never come to my office. What do you want?”

“That’s no tone to take with me,” Gregory replied smoothly. “I heard a rumor, and thought I’d stop by to confirm.”

I finally glanced up. “What rumor?”

What idiot was feeding my business to the fae?

He cocked his head before taking a seat across from my desk. “Your plans for tonight,” he began. “What are they?”

Oh.

I turned my focus back to Maria’s useless paperwork. “It’s not your concern.”

“Normally, no. But this is a special circumstance,” Gregory snapped. He leaned back, arms crossed. “What makes you think you can keep doing whatever you want?”

I set the pen down and met his gaze. “Excuse me?”

“We had an agreement when we reopened this case,” he said, stern as ever. “Eric Richards belongs to the fae. We want him. My team is leading this.”

“Damen told me,” I said. “But I’m not looking at Richards—I’m tracking Jason Patterson.”

“It’s the same investigation,” Gregory snapped. “You are not to take action without reporting to me, Joe, or Gloria.”

“I don’t agree,” I said firmly. “The Patterson case was mine to begin with—he’s a shifter. Nothing’s changed officially. I have a lead, so I’m following it.”

“There’s a process—”

“No.”

He lifted his eyebrow. “No?”

“You’re taking too long,” I replied. “Every day wasted is another day where Bianca has to live in fear.”

Understanding crossed Gregory’s expression. “Revenge is not going to cure her,” he said finally.

“You can call it revenge if you want,” I said, forcing my breathing to calm. “But I call it making sure no one else gets the chance to hurt her. Besides, I know that you’re plotting with Declan.”

Gregory looked at me, unblinking, and his scent shifted. The hair on my arms straightened. I couldn’t pinpoint what he was thinking, but he didn’t deny it.

It made me wonder—what would Gregory look like when angry? I’d heard rumors that he was unhinged, even bloodthirsty. No other fae in his generation had been able to match him.

The door opened before Gregory had a chance to respond, and Jonathon Grier stepped into the room.

I frowned. The perpetually late witch had called me earlier. He was supposed to have been here hours ago, and I’d given up any expectation that he’d actually arrive.

“Oh,” Jonathon said. His carefree expression dropped as he warily watched my visitor. “Hello, Gregory.”

“Mr. Jonathon,” Gregory replied, narrowing his eyes.

I pressed my lips together as the icy mood spread through my office. So the fae were holding a grudge against the Griers after all.

“You’re here finally,” I said, redirecting their attention back to me. I didn’t want to break up another fight today. “You’re lucky. I was about to leave. What was it you wanted?”

“Oh, right,” Jonathon started, looking away from a stone-faced Gregory. He held up a manila folder. “I saw that you were looking for Bianca’s paperwork. There’s no need to create anything new; we’ve already gone through that process. I have everything here.”

“So she does have records?” I crossed my arms on my desk.

“Of course,” Jonathon replied with a wave. “We sorted the details when we found her.” He laid the folder on my desk. I reached out, but Gregory took it first.

The older man thumbed through the documents. “They’re all here,” he said with a nod. “Good.”

“You sent her to the university without any papers,” I replied. “She can’t get a job or live on her own. She doesn’t even have a license.”

“That’s her own fault.” Jonathon shrugged. “She’s ignoring the requirements.”

The wind felt as though it had been knocked from me. “What?”

He touched his glasses and sighed. “Bianca hasn’t completed the clearances for autonomy. Until that time, she must remain under conservatorship.”

“You’re blackmailing her?” The heat rose through my chest.

“It’s not blackmail.” Jonathon frowned, unmoved, and my skin bristled. “It’s a matter of safety. She has refused to cooperate with any medical or psychological assistance. That puts her at risk.”

“A risk?” I asked. “To whom?”

“Herself,” Gregory cut in, closing the folder. “Finally, a decision you’ve made that I support.”

I let out a low breath. “She’s—”

“She’s a danger to herself,” Gregory said again. “She needs intervention and medical care as soon as possible.”

“So you’ve noticed. Do you think it’s severe enough for immediate intervention?” Jonathon asked.

“It’s severe enough,” Gregory responded. “You adopted her. How have you been working to gain her cooperation this last decade?”

“It’s been a slow process.” Jonathon frowned again. “She doesn’t trust anyone. She’ll come around eventually.”

“Not without guidance.” Gregory scowled. “Don’t worry, the fae are prepared to handle it.”

“Well, that’s your culture, isn’t it?” Jonathon shrugged.

I kept my expression blank as Gregory levelled his stoic gaze on me.

“We’ll be taking over shortly,” Gregory said. He put the folder in the front of his jacket. “Therefore, I’ll be taking these.”

I placed my palms against my desk and stood. “Those aren’t yours!”

“They’re not yours either,” Gregory said, unbothered. “As Bianca’s guardian, I’m responsible for them for the time being.”

Jonathon sighed as the tension slipped from his shoulders. “That’s for the best.”

“Give them to me.” I held out my hand. “Now.” I let the threat linger in my voice as my teeth sharpened.

The two Er Bashous looked at each other, silently communicating, before Jonathon glanced back at me.

“You’re close,” he said. “But your tantrums aren’t cute anymore. We should bring Pearson up to date regarding your training. I really don’t like lying to my quintet.”

I glared at him. “If you were so concerned about lying, you would have spoken up ten years ago. Besides, if you’re worried about training, then you should finally focus on Miles.”

Jonathon rolled his eyes. “Miles is fine.”

“When was the last time you spoke to your father?” Gregory asked, tilting his head.

“Whatever it’s been, it hasn’t been long enough,” I replied.

They looked at each other once more, and for the first time since this conversation began, a hint of doubt cut through my anger.

But it didn’t matter; I had to get stronger. If they thought they’d take her away again, they’d soon learn that we wouldn’t back down without a fight.