Page 108 of Wicked Hour (Heirs of Chicagoland 2)

Traeger shook his head. “He wouldn’t care about a rock.”

“Have you ever visited the shop?” I asked them. “Bought any magic from her?”

Georgia snorted. “I haven’t been in and didn’t know she was a sorceress. Is she—what do they call it—registered?”

“She says she isn’t,” I said, and glanced at Traeger, brows lifted. “What about you?”

“What would I want with crystals and shit?” Traeger asked.

“She’s lying,” Connor explained. “Maybe because she doesn’t want to get tagged by the Order, or maybe because she’s feeling guilty or afraid. We’re hoping the Order can give us some leverage.”

“We could go into town in wolf form,” Traeger said. “Scare her into telling us the truth.”

“Trying to scare people into doing the right thing is what got us here in the first place,” Connor said. “If we get leverage, we’ll talk to her again. What about a symbol made up of twoRs?” He looked between them.

“No,” Georgia said, and glared at Traeger, who shook his head. “Why?”

“We think they left it near the shutter,” Connor said. He pushed back his chair. “Trae and I will take care of the dishes. But first, we’re going to get some fresh air.” He looked at Traeger expectantly, waited until he rose.

“Don’t go far,” Georgia said.

“Literally just to the patio,” Connor said with a smile. “Your boy will be fine.”

“I’m not her boy,” Traeger muttered, but there was something pleased in his tone.

“Fresh air does a body good,” Georgia said. “And you will take care of the dishes, but they can wait until you’re back. And this will give Elisa and me a chance to talk.”

We waited until they walked outside and the door closed behind them.

And then I was alone with her, dreading the possibility that I already knew exactly what Georgia wanted to talk about.

“Getting some attention from Connor will also do him some good,” she said. “Feeling like he’s heard.”

“He came to us,” I said. “Told us about Zane. Connor’s already told him that was the right thing to do, the hard thing to do. I think he appreciates his dad’s influence enough to know what it’s like when people don’t have good role models.”

“Trae definitely didn’t,” Georgia agreed. “I did the best I could, but I wasn’t his parents.”

I nodded, looked out the window. The wind had picked up outside, and branches snapped against the windows.

“Doing the right thing,” Georgia said. “The hard thing. There’s a lot of that going around.”

I looked back at her, wasn’t sure if I’d see censure or approval. I found neither—more a kind of curiosity.

“You did right by Carlie,” she said. “It’s taken me some hours—some hard hours—to think through it. But it was the choice you had to make, and you made it.”

“I did.”

“I’m glad of it. I get the sense, Elisa, that you make a lot of hard choices.”

I understood we weren’t talking about Carlie anymore.

“Would you like to tell me about it? I realize I offered that before, and you declined, and events in the middle may not endear me overmuch. I don’t know you very well,” she said. “But you saved Carlie, and that means a lot.” She smiled a little. “And I see enough of you reflected in his eyes, in the way he looks at you.”

I watched her for a long time, my chest aching with emotion.

Maybe it was a weakness I shouldn’t have shown. Maybe it was the debt I’d have to pay back drawing nearer. Maybe it was the combination of exhaustion and weakness. Maybe I was tired of being afraid.

Or maybe, because she was a shifter and there was trouble enough in her own family, it didn’t feel as hard to be honest.

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