Page 11 of Shifters in the Night

A throat cleared to her right and she smiled. Jeff Caswell sat at his desk just outside Victor’s office, opening boxes of office supplies and organizing them. Jeff, whose mother was Victor’s sister, was a sort of assistant-slash-jack-of-all-trades, who did everything around the office that Lia didn’t handle herself. Slight of build, with his uncle’s narrow shoulders and long arms, Jeff didn’t have any real training, as far as Lia could discern, but he was willing to do any task Victor asked of him, no matter how small. No matter what time of day. No matter how annoying or inconvenient. Victor once asked him to separate a bottle of two-in-one shampoo and conditioner and Jeff found a way to do it.

“Hi, Jeff!” Lia said.

He smiled brightly at her. “How’s your morning going, Lia?”

“Productive,” she said, ducking into her own small office to drop off her bag.

“Sorry about the grocery thing,” Jeff said, grimacing. “I bought the wrong coffee grounds one time.”

“It’s OK. It gave me time to buy stuff for my own kitchen. That’s an advantage of not staying in a hotel, right? Having our own kitchen? I’ll finally have a chance to cook!” Lia said.

“I miss SpoonFeed,” Jeff grumbled, looking wistful for his favorite meal delivery service, which wasn’t available within a hundred miles of Mystic Bayou.

“Lia!”

She sighed at the shout of her name from inside Victor’s office. She never had figured out how Victor had a strange sort of British affect to his voice when his nephew sounded like he grew up in the Midwest … because he did. They were both originally from Iowa. It was so weird.

Crossing the lobby, she stopped in front of Jeff’s desk and asked quietly. “What am I walking into?”

“He’s consumed a whole lot of carbs in the last hour,” Jeff whispered back. “Tread carefully.”

“That’s on brand for my morning,” Lia answered.

Lia entered Victor’s office suite with its dark gray walls and custom black marble floor. As usual, Victor’s luxuriant sable hair was swept back in a widow’s peak that emphasized his piercing gray eyes – eyes that followed her every movement as she crossed the room. She glanced down at the wastebasket beside his desk, spotting two empty egg cartons piled high with empty shells and blueberry muffin wrappers.

“That’s a lot of breakfast,” she said, her brow furrowed.

“I was peckish,” Victor said, flashing his bright white teeth at her, though it was more of a sneer than a smile.

Shifters eating large quantities of food was pretty normal, no matter what creature they became. Lia, herself, could make a pizza delivery guy’s tires weep after a particularly long run. But Victor only ate like this when he was agitated. What about the Mystic Bayou job was setting him on edge? So far, it was no different from any of their other projects, other than the crew’s need for mobile accommodations. Was he frustrated with the lack of room service and city lights? Or had he had a run-in with one of the locals?

One of the many challenges of working for Victor was that he was one of the few people she couldn’t read. Some people – shifters, especially – were just shut off from their emotions, or particularly good at masking them. And Victor was one of those people. No supernatural gift could be all-powerful. Jeff’s emotions were equally difficult to interpret, so the blind spot probably had something to do with their genetics. But he did understand his uncle and could read his moods like a barometer. It was the cornerstone of their working relationship, a shared commitment to getting through – whatever the current issue at any particular moment was – so they could do the work they enjoyed.

Lia reminded herself that she normally liked the mental exercise of working for someone she couldn’t predict. It made her job more interesting. It kept her social skills sharp instead of letting her rely too much on her other sense. But some days, it could be a terrible pain in the ass.

“So, how did the meeting go?” Victor asked, motioning towards the leather club chair across from him. He smirked. “I’m sure Mayor Berend gave you no trouble. Did he need help sounding out the big words?”

“Mayor Berend is actually a very sharp man,” she told him. “I don’t think you’d like the results if you underestimated him.”

He sniffed, toying with an enamel plaque he kept on his desk, imprinted with the company’s logo. “I’m sure you exaggerate.”

“He has the full backing of the League,” she noted. “Alex Lancaster made a surprise appearance at the meeting. I can’t help but think it was to make sure I knew that they’re both watching our operations very closely.”

Victor frowned. He may have thought himself very clever, but even he didn’t want to tangle with the League and its considerable resources. Securing a contract in a town where the League had such deep connections was a huge step forward for New Ground and he desperately wanted to further that business relationship. She could only hope he would keep that in mind when interacting with Zed.

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure they like what they see, don’t we?” Victor said.

“On that note, it would help if you would give me all of the information I need, like any plans you have to expand the construction site into other lots?” Lia asked.

The flicker of surprise and annoyance across Victor’s features was easy enough to read without super-powers. He had not anticipated her finding out about his interest in those adjoining lots and he wasn’t happy about her knowing … which didn’t make any sense. He didn’t have any reason to hide business decisions from her. She ran his business. He’d never behaved like this before and she had no idea how to respond.

Victor was going rogue.

She barely suppressed a shudder while Victor smiled blithely. “I don’t have any plans to expand anything right now.”

Lia noted the use of “right now” and did not feel better for it. “But the mayor mentioned that you made inquiries about the lots adjoining the site. He’s received phone calls about it from the property owners.”

Victor picked up the plaque and turned it over in his hands. “I’m sure he misunderstood. Who can comprehend the accents around here anyway? Besides, that’s why you’re here, to smooth over the little misunderstandings.”

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