Page 16 of Secrets of the Forgotten Heir

For a split second her grip eased and I thought she was about to let me go, but she was only taking a breather. There was a short pause before the second round of attempted murder via affection and she started crushing me again. Something in me softened. She’d missed me. It was nice to be missed. God knows, I’d missed her.

Finally Yanni released me, stepped back and cupped my cheeks in her hands. She studied me and I gazed back at her. As a shifter, she aged a smidge slower than us humans so she still looked great for her age; there was a hint of laughter lines around her eyes, and her dark brown hair was liberally scattered with grey, but those were the only changes. Otherwise her broad, strong frame was the same, as was the uniform she almost always wore.

Her voice was soft. ‘Look at you, Bea, all grown up! Oh, my goodness.’ Her thick Cornish accent sounded like home, almost as much as the scenery and the smell of the salt water. I could see – and appreciate – that she was resisting the urge to pull me into yet another bone-crushing hug.

‘Yanni,’ I murmured, her name more than a moniker to me, but almost a title. It meant something similar to Nana, because that was the role she’d always played in my life. ‘I’mso glad to see you,’ I admitted, and my eyes welled with how much that was true. We’d spoken briefly in the last decade, but only fleetingly and she deserved so much more than I’d given her. ‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

She couldn’t resist that second hug and pulled me in again. She pressed a kiss to my forehead and it took everything I had not to dissolve into tears because all I felt from her was relief and love. Relief that I was home and abiding love; love I didn’t feel I was worthy of. I was truly determined to earn it again.

‘It’s okay.’ She pressed another kiss to my forehead. ‘It was so much to deal with.’

‘I dealt with it badly.’

‘You were so young, Bea. So lost. It hurt to let you go, but I knew it was what you needed. I knew in my bones one day you’d be back, and here you are.’ She gave me one last squeeze and released me.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks and tried to remember what the hell I was there for.

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow,’ she went on. ‘I’m ever so grateful you’re taking over this job. I’m looking forward to seeing more of you. It’s not the most exciting role, but I’m sure you can find a way to make it fun, can’t you?’

Answering calls tothe police station from people whining about their neighbours’ fences being two inches too far to the left or someone playing music too loud on a Friday night didn’t sound particularly wild. Maybe if I was lucky I’d get a case of a missing garden gnome. High stakes, thrilling stuff. Still, hopefully it meant I’d have time to dig up dirt on one Fraser Banks. I suddenly felt incredibly motivated to start work. Take that, Mr Mansplainer.

‘Thank you for the job, Yanni. I’m grateful for the income while I find my feet.’

‘Of course. I’m sure you’ll be an asset.’ Yanni studied me. ‘What are you doing here, Bea?’ she asked. ‘Is everything alright?’ I thought for a moment she meant what was I doing back in Witchlight Cove and I felt a surge of panic, then I realised she was talking about me being in the hospital.

‘Right, Yes. No, I mean,’ My cheeks warmed. Flawless sentence structure, an inspiration to linguists everywhere. I was so smooth. ‘Yanni, is Mrs D okay?’

The chief of police sighed. ‘You heard? I forgot you two were close. Yes, she’s doing alright, a little better than Warren. By the looks of things, he got a bigger dose of whatever was in those pasties.’ Her voice was grim.

Warren Storcrest had been the pasty-eating champion at least three years in a row when I’d lived in Witchlight, andI suspected he’d lengthened his winning streak since then or at least got a couple more victories under his belt. No doubt he’d eaten more of the poison than Mrs D. He was the champion of pasty consumption, unbeatable – until someone poisoned them.

‘Do you know what it was?’ I asked. ‘They weren’t the only two in the competition, were they?’

‘No, there were three others. One was a vampire – Sonny from the café. Do you know him?’

I shook my head. ‘No, I don’t. Who else was there?’

‘A young warlock from the Barrows Estate, and a djinn – Runa Collek.’

I didn’t recognise any of those names, but there was one thing about the list that stood out. ‘The only ones who got ill were shifters? Is that what you’re telling me? Someone was targeting shifters?’

‘I don’t know yet, but the evidence seems to point that way.’

I frowned. ‘Ezra didn’t compete?’

‘There was a shifter matter he had to attend to otherwise I expect he would have been there.’

‘Is there trouble with the shifter groups? Anyone who’d want to target them in particular?’

Yanni smiled. ‘I heard you’d been working as a PI in the non-magical world. Why do I get the feeling you’re going to dig into this even if I tell you not to?’

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t going to lie outright to her, not when I already had to keep the disappearance of the Eternal Flame from her. But I couldn’t sit back if someone had targeted Mrs D.

After a moment’s silence, Yanni sighed. ‘There are no beefs with the shifters at the moment that I know of. But I’ll do some digging. You can go in and see Amara if you want. I think the doc has finished giving her a once-over.’

I was about to thank her, then I hesitated. ‘Are you sure she doesn’t have any family she’d rather see?’

‘No, she hasn’t got any family and she insisted that we didn’t make a fuss. But as you’re here now, you might as well pop in. I’m sure she’d like that.’

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