Page 2 of The Hive Queen

“I don’t need to be a perfect husband to love my daughter.” He pushes to his feet and stares down at me. “Think about what I said. Elections are in a few months.”

As he strides toward the door, I call after him, “Why do you think your daughter is still alive?”

He pauses at the door. “I received an anonymous tip.”

“Those are notoriously unreliable.” I drum my fingers on the Berdherst folder. “One might question what the gain is for reuniting a non-biological father with a half-demon child before a big political election. Ifyour daughter was still alive.”

“You have my demand, Ms. Cay.” He strides out of my office.

I wait a few seconds before standing and walking out to the main room, stopping at Meredith’s desk. Our secretary keeps her eyes on the monitor that covers the hall back to the fortuneteller’s shop that we use as a public front for our business.

She used to run the front until we hired a few new people to pretend to tell fortunes, freeing up her precious time for the tasks we need her to focus on. She’s a whiz with computers and can hunt down pretty much anything we need. If technomancy was a real thing, I’d think she had computer chips in her blood.

At last, she lifts blue eyes to meet mine, her expression grim. “Want me to put a hit out on him?”

She had been listening in on my conversation with Mr. Berdherst and doesn’t take his threat any more kindly than I do.

“No, not yet.” If I wanted him dead, I’d have already done it, then had Flint turn him into a zombie and drive his car off the nearest bridge. I lean against her desk. “But put a tap on his phone and dig into this anonymous source. I’d like to know who’s blabbing our secrets. And start looking for a new house for Lin and the kids. I don’t like the idea that they’ve been compromised.”

“Already on it.” She grabs a notepad from her desk. “New case offers.”

I skim the printout and groan. “Exploded dick girl again?”

“She’s persistent.” Meredith grins. “She raised her offer, too.”

“She must be having it rough in jail.” I skim down the rest of the list. “Why are we only getting ghost requests lately?”

“Because you keep turning down the big cases to avoid a conflict with the JTFPI.” Her heavily lined eyes narrow. “If you’re not careful, Trent’s team will become the new go-to for all the good jobs.”

Would that be such a bad thing? It’s not like we need the money, and I trust Trent’s team to keep protecting those who need protection. It’s been so long since we took a break from cleaning up other people’s messes.

Maybe it’s time for the Cleaners to retire.

“Send me the latest info on the dick explosion case, and I’ll take a look.” I turn to head back toward my office. “If it’s interesting, I’ll consider it.”

“Ignite’s coming back for another tour and wants Marc on his detail again,” Meredith calls after me.

A pang goes through me. “Talk to Marc about that.”

“When?” Meredith demands. “He never picks up his phone.”

“I’ll tell him to call you.” I stop at my office door and glance down the hall at Marc and Flint’s closed doors.

They haven’t been coming to the office much, and when they do, it’s only to pick up gear before leaving again. In the wake of Darius’s death, we’ve become ghosts of our former selves.

Flint has lost his spark to tease, and his temper snaps out like a hurt animal. He spends most of his days at the Conservatory now, and if he comes home, it’s when we’re either away from the cabin or already asleep.

Marc, on the other hand, keeps taking long jobs that keep him out of Clearhelm, and when he’s home, he barely gets out of bed. He was always quiet before, preferring to allow his actions to speak for him, but now he almost never talks.

Only Sharpe remains unchanged by Darius’s death. He doesn’t remember the ignis demon well enough to be affected by his absence, but he has problems of his own. His superiors didn’t like learning that Dr. Gillion, a person they vetted themselves, and Langley, a new recruit at the Woo Woo Squad, turned out to be shapeshifting imposters who slipped by undetected right under everyone’s noses.

While Langley has been dealt with, Gillion—or Syl’vyn as she’s really known—snuck right out of what should have been an impregnable jail cell.

It feels like every time we put out one fire, another flares to life, and Sharpe is left to take the heat as the Captain of the JTFPI.

Sometimes I wonder if we should have left him alone to live this lifetime without us.

We only make things worse for him.

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