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Chapter One

Landon

Everything sucked.

That was all I could think as I stared over the kitchen island into the living room. Most of the apartments I’d looked at in California had been open concept, and I suspected it was nice and airy and comfortable when you really lived in a place. Yes, it was mostly to disguise the fact that even the expensive places were tiny, but someday, I could stand in the kitchen chopping chocolate for hot cocoa, and talk to my guests in the living room at the same time.

It would be lovely.

It would.

It was just that right now, it sucked.

The living room was full of boxes, and I didn’t have any chocolate or guests. Even worse, I was eating off a paper plate, because the moving company had mislaid the box that held my china.

My grandmother’s china, that she’d specifically left to me in her will, as much as that had annoyed my brother.

My dead grandmother, the only member of my family who hadn’t betrayed me.

Just thinking of the old-fashioned blue toile pattern with the willow trees and the . . . fuck, I wanted to cry.

But I didn’t have time for that. I needed to eat my eggs off my fucking paper plate, and then get to my new job. I’d timed the walk from my apartment to the Crescent office building, and I wasn’t cutting it close yet, but it was my first day. I couldn’t be late.

I needed this job.

It was my fresh start.

My only shot at a life that didn’t include my fiancé, who had slept with my brother and decided he was a better catch than me. My brother, who’d asked the asshole to marry him right in front of me. And maybe worst of all, my parents, who had told me that what was done was done, and I needed to get over it already, because it “wasn’t right” to tear the family apart over something so small.

Something so small as complete betrayal, right.

When a headhunter had brazenly emailed me at the software company I had worked for, something had snapped to attention in my head. Not just a job opportunity for a better, higher ranking, much higher paid job than the one I had, but a job opportunity all the way in California.

There was no better way to escape my Boston family, was there?

So I’d talked to him, when I’d never agreed to talk to someone about another job before. Unlike my family, I was built loyal. I’d gotten my job right out of college and stuck with that company despite it all, until then.

When I skated through two interviews and Crescent had offered me the job, I had packed my things, hired a mover, and left without telling a single member of my family what I was doing.

I hoped they fucking choked on it.

But that was the past, and all the way across the country. Now was my first day as the head of IT at Crescent.

I pulled my brand-new cell phone, with its shiny new phone number, out of my pocket to check the time. I had to give up on the eggs.

That was fine; eating was making me queasy anyway. I’d never been the best with people, and right now, meeting new people sounded like torture. Meeting a whole office of new coworkers?

I’d met my former fiancé Geoff at the office. Yeah, he’d worked in sales while I was in IT, but that didn’t change anything.

Last time I’d made a friend at work, I’d lost everything.

Well, not everything. The other people in IT had been incredibly sympathetic about the mess, and I’d kind of considered them friends.

I tossed the paper plate half full of scrambled eggs into the trash can and headed for the door. Halfway there, I stumbled over one of my boxes and came up muttering curses to myself. It was too damned easy to imagine Geoff laughing at me for it. I wasn’t the world’s most graceful guy, and he’d always found that uproariously funny.

I thought house cats were always supposed to land on their feet. How come you land on your ass so often?

In retrospect, it was a lot easier to see that he was a jackass and I was better off without him.

Still lonely, though.

At least he wouldn’t make fun of how many books I had anymore. So what if I was a nerd? Nothing wrong with that.

But he was my asshole brother’s problem now.

The Crescent office building was bright and airy, just like my apartment, only not overrun with moving boxes and misery. The company was owned by werewolves, something they’d been very up front about, concerned that a little cat shifter like me might be overwhelmed with the constant feeling of predators breathing down my neck.

But again, I was a nerd. I’d grown up going to a huge overpopulated Boston public school, and had always felt like there were predators all around me, whether they were actual predators like werewolves, or just jocks who thought it was hilariously funny that I enjoyed reading, and liked to trip me in the school hallways when my nose was stuck in a book instead of paying attention to where I was going.

Frankly, werewolves worried me less. I’d never met one I hadn’t liked, and overall found them to be community-minded and pleasant company. It wasn’t like they ate house cats, let alone house cat shifters.

Unless they were, I dunno, trapped in the Andes with no food, but at that point, all bets were off and I couldn’t blame anyone for what they did to survive.

The woman who’d performed my interviews and hired me was standing at the security desk, and when I walked in the door, she straightened and smiled brightly at me. “Landon! It’s so good to see you in person. Ready to see the office?”

I . . . was the head of HR actually going to do my onboarding? That was a little overwhelming. I’d already signed my contract, and it was a great one, but I hadn’t expected much more this morning than being told where my office was, and to get to work.

But I smiled gamely at her and nodded. “I am, Miss?—”

“Oh please, it’s Maia. You can get people to call you Mr. Smith if you want, but around here, I’m afraid they’re likelier to make jokes about Agent Smith, especially with you being our new head of IT.” She held something out to me: an ID card. “We’ve got lanyards up in HR, but I figured I’d let you pick your own. We’ve got the sunflower ones if you need it for any reason, some fun stuff, regular Crescent ones, or even plain black, if you’re not into decorations. Or, you know, fun.” She glanced back at a handsome dark-skinned man talking to the security person at the desk, who was indeed wearing his ID on a black lanyard, then back at me, making an exaggerated serious face and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Don’t make me file a complaint with HR,” he called to her without even glancing up.

Her tinkling laugh filled the entryway. “So that Debbie Downer is Seth, head of security. I’m sure you’ll get to know him, since you’ll be the only person in the building who knows more about any form of security than him, what with being in charge of . . . firewalls? Is that what it’s called?”

“Part of it,” I agreed. “And I’d be happy to explain it to anyone who asks.”

Having worked in IT for many years, I already knew what the answer to that would be. No one wanted to know how the sausage was made, they just wanted the IT monkey to dance.

Seth’s head popped up, though, and he turned to look at me. “Seriously? Our last IT guy just said I needed to trust the magic. Which might have made sense if he’d been a fae, but he was a werecoyote.”

I rolled my eyes at the notion of it being magic. The fact that it wasn’t magic was exactly why I’d been drawn to it. Computers, math, science . . . they followed perfect quantifiable rules that never failed, except in predetermined exceptions. They were predictable. Exactly the opposite of magic. “It’s definitely not magic,” I denied. “It makes perfect sense, and I’d be happy to explain it. I taught some basic security classes when I was getting my Master’s, so I’ve already got a whole lesson plan if people want to know more.”

His eyes lit up. “Really? That’s . . . let me talk to Jax. Maybe we can run some classes on company time.”

“That would be outside your contract, of course, and we’d pay you for it,” Maia added. “But I guess it would be nice if somebody’s laptop would work in meetings, instead of being infested with malware.”

They shared a knowing look, then sighed at the same time. I would have asked, but I was sure I’d find out who the problem child was soon enough. They inevitably brought their computers to me in the end, demanding to know why I’d given them faulty equipment, instead of thinking for a second that maybe skeevy porn sites were the problem.

At least Crescent was running a magical online store and not a software company. People who worked for a store had a reasonable excuse not to understand computers.

Maia showed me around the whole building, level by level, introducing me to the heads of each department, which was . . . okay, it made sense. I was going to be head of IT for this very large company. I needed to know the people in charge.

Still, it wasn’t what I’d been expecting at all. I’d basically been expecting what I’d gotten in Boston: a closet filled with spare parts and a whole lot of work order demands.

Dance IT monkey, dance.

Instead, I got the red carpet. A tour through accounting and HR and sales and customer service, then the executive floor, where she took me right to the office of the CEO, Ajax Fyse.

He was exactly what I’d pictured, which wasn’t a surprise. He’d been on magazine covers and such, wearing suits worth more than my salary, looking like a model. And very much like the alpha werewolf he was. If he’d interviewed me instead of Maia, I’d have probably seen the sense in their concern about me being afraid of werewolves.

He smiled at me, though, and it wasn’t a sharp-toothed predator smile, but a friendly one. “You must be Landon. We’ve been looking forward to your arrival. Our last head of IT was in a bad spot and had to go home to Mexico, but it sort of left us in the lurch. Maia said you’ve come all the way from Boston?”

“Yessir, Boston. But I was ready for a change.” My brain took up a chant in the background: don’t talk about your personal drama, don’t talk about your persona drama . “No snow will be nice,” I finally said instead.

He laughed at that, nodding. “I hear you. Most of the pack came out of Idaho, and it’s a world of difference.”

I knew that, technically. I’d read it in the articles about Fyse and Crescent. But it was odd to see them all in person and think that these confident, cosmopolitan wolves had come from rural Idaho, and a pack that had refused even the most basic technology, and then they’d freaking invented the magical version of an online superstore that should not be named. They’d arranged for magical textbooks in online versions and print-on-demand, making the study of magic accessible in a way it had never been before, and gotten insanely rich doing it.

“Can’t say I miss the giant puffy coats,” Maia said, sighing. “Being able to dress in whatever I want all year? Yes please.”

Ajax laughed. “Well, we’ll see how Landon feels about that when it does get cold. It might not snow, but that doesn’t mean it’s warm.”

“I’ve got all the wool coats I’ll need,” I promised. “After Boston, it’s definitely going to be better. Anything short of Maine would be.”

He bowed his head in concession, but then his phone rang. He sighed, muttered something that sounded like Japanese to me, and Maia winced and led me out of the room. “He’s working on a merger. Maybe. I have doubts, but you know how it is.”

I looked at her, then back at his office, and bit my lip. “Honestly? Not even a clue, and I’m kind of glad for it. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate not having been called tech-monkey yet, but I’d rather be that than have to worry about everything to do with running a whole company.”

She laughed uproariously at that, shaking her head. “Well hopefully no one will call you that. Techcat, maybe? But if anyone is a problem, come to me. This isn’t a regular human company where the bottom line matters more than people. We formed as a pack, and we’re damned well going to stay a pack.”

And that was . . . nice. Cats didn’t really have packs, but it was a nice thought, people sticking together. Being loyal to each other.

I could get behind that.

“Okay,” she announced, chipper as ever after hours of introductions. “Time to take you to your own lair. You share a floor with the rest of the techies. IT, the programmers, and the people handling our servers. And the servers themselves. Is that offensive?”

“I don’t see why it would be. Those people need IT services most often, so having us nearby makes the most sense.”

She beamed at the response and took me out into tech central. She introduced me to the tiny woman who was in charge of keeping the website up and running, her team of programmers in a bunch of cubicles laid out in a bullpen. I’d never had anyone happier to see me. “I’d hug you if I did that kind of thing,” she said. “We’ve got a pile of scrapped computers that need repairs and parts, and your boys are trying to keep up with it, but they’re disorganized as hell. It’s like the ticket system just sends into the void suddenly.”

Maia frowned at that. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Not your problem,” the woman said. “We’ve been making do, and I knew you’d get a new person in.”

“Is the former head of IT’s email address still running?”

The programmer blinked. “You don’t think . . .”

“That they were having all tickets run through them? Yeah. It’s not unheard of, if they came from a smaller company than Crescent.”

She huffed a long-suffering sigh and nodded. “I’ll see if I can find it. And then I guess we try to find a more sensible way to handle tickets.”

“If you can get me access to the system and their email, I can handle it.” I told her. “My last company, on the handoff to a new head of IT, deleted the previous guy’s email, and they were just being sent into the void, so they were gone.”

She shook her head in wonder, then turned to look to her left. “Hey, Lucas?”

A good-looking young man stood from a cubicle and wandered over, offering both Maia and me an easy smile. “’Sup boss?”

“This is Landon Smith, the new head of IT. You’re with him this week, for as long as he needs to get his section untangled. Help him get into Gomez’s old email and sort this mess out.” She talked like a drill sergeant from a movie, and despite his laid-back demeanor, he didn’t hesitate to return it with a sharp nod.

“Sure thing. Be back as soon as I can.”

“Right then,” Maia said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. “You might think we’re completely incompetent given this, but I think you’ll like your setup, promise.”

She turned toward the other side of the building and motioned for us to follow her. The other side of the elevators looked like a long hallway with a few doors on either side, and not much else.

Then she opened the first door on the left, and inside was . . . well, it looked almost like a warehouse, full of computers and parts and frankly, it looked like heaven.

Finally, we were off to the races.

Between the shelves were a dozen or so desks, each with someone sitting at it, working on something. One on a laptop, sighing in frustration, another carefully disassembling a desktop tower. They all looked up when we came in.

“This,” Maia announced, motioning to me, “is your new boss. Landon Smith.”

Shit, that felt weird. I was the boss. Well, the boss of some people. Eleven people, to be exact, who all stood and came over to shake my hand, welcoming and pleased to meet me. Not a single annoyed expression in the bunch. Frankly, it was a lot of relief.

“Think you can figure out where all the repair tickets are going?” one of them asked.

Maia grinned back. “He already has.”

“Well, we haven’t checked that hypothesis yet. It’s just a guess.” I shook all their hands and hoped they weren’t going to expect me to remember their names right away. I could tell from the smell that half of them were wolves, and wondered why Crescent had hired outside the pack for my role, but since no one seemed mad about it, there had to be a good reason.

We worked through lunch, and it turned out that my predecessor had indeed routed all repair tickets through their own email address. It was a matter of minutes to change that over, sending them to a central address, so that whoever was there at the time could assign them and respond or mark them up however necessary.

Maia showed up at one with two enormous boxes that smelled like meat. Sandwiches. She’d brought us all lunch, since we’d been working through.

For half an hour, we all sat around eating sandwiches, chips, and some of the biggest pickles I’d seen in my life, talking and joking like we’d been a department together forever. Sure, they had been working together for a while, but I wasn’t left out at all. Not treated like some distant boss that no one wanted to hang out with.

It was awesome.

“I don’t get it,” Lucas said, looking his sandwich over. “Nothing blue in it. Why is it called the weary blues?”

“They’re all named like that,” the girl next to him said. “Mine’s called the caged bird.”

“But yours is chicken,” he pointed out. “So bird kinda makes sense, at least.”

“I couldn’t say why they named it that, but it was the name of Langston Hughes’ first poetry collection,” I said. Everyone looked up at me, so I turned back to my own sandwich, pretending I hadn’t probably just outed myself as a giant nerd. “So they’re, um, probably all named for poems, or poetry?”

“Huh,” Lucas said, looking his sandwich over, like maybe it made more sense, even though it totally didn’t. Then he shrugged. “Well, it’s delicious, so that’s what really matters, right?”

Everyone laughed at him, and he grinned. Clearly, this was a man who’d been class clown in his day. I still wished I could have ever had that confidence.

“Hey Landon,” he said. “You want to come to trivia night tonight? A couple of these losers will be there, but obviously you’re on my team.”

There was some jeering at that, but overall, everyone seemed amused. Pleased.

“You should come,” the girl with the chicken sandwich—Julia?—said. “Maybe Lucas’s team won’t come in last for a change.”

They laughed again, and this time, I laughed with them. This wasn’t so hard. I knew I’d made the right decision for myself, but I was starting to feel like maybe . . . maybe things didn’t have to be hard at all.