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Goddamn, she can be vicious when she hates someone. Not that Bailey doesn’t deserve it. “Captain, huh?”
Her pinky points toward Sharpe. “It was our mayor’s idea.”
“You’ve handed them the city?” Bailey moves to stand over Lynch. “Did you give them your balls while you were at it?”
“We’ve been on borrowed time for a while now. We should have died with Berdherst when the Bone Man rose.” Lynch cracks open his eyes, defeat clear in his features. “I’m tired. At least this way Clearhelm is left in the hands of people who can actually handle all this end-of-day bullshit.”
Bailey sputters and stomps, but eventually, he runs out of steam and falls into the chair beside Lynch. “What am I supposed to do now? I gave my life to this city. I have nothing besides my job.”
Pen drains her cup and rinses it at the tiny kitchen sink. “For now, stay put and focus on making it through the next two days. After that, you can think of what you want to do with the rest of your life.”
in the thick of it
- Pen -
Sweat trickles down my neck, and I tug on the collar of my captain’s uniform as I stand in the shade in front of city hall.
The evidence of the rain from last night had been burned away by a scorching morning sun, and the heavy suit makes the heat nearly unbearable.
Sharpe elbows me. “Stop fussing. The media people are arriving.”
“It’s good I only have to wear this for formal occasions.” I force my hand back to my side and glance at Sharpe.
When Lynch’s call woke us up to inform us of the impromptu press conference, Darius had scrambled to modify a charcoal gray suit that accentuates Sharpe’s lean waist. The matching vest pins down a blue-and-white-plaid tie. With the blue, silk handkerchief in his breast pocket, Sharpe looks every part the future leader.
The doors open, and a young police officer rolls out the projector so Lynch can participate without putting his life at risk. Another officer stands at the podium, which is positioned at the top of the steps, testing the microphones and speakers.
My fingers drum against my thigh. “Couldn’t we have held this in a conference room?”
“The pictures will be more impactful with city hall behind you.” Julian joins us, his white suit and pink vest and tie highlighting his otherworldly beauty.
Unlike me, he appears cool as a cucumber, his pose relaxed as he pushes back the sides of his blazer to tuck his hands into his pockets, looking like a model.
His pink gaze sweeps over the growing crowd. “And we want the people who elected Sharpe to attend. Your appointment to office is unprecedented, so the more supporters, the better. You don’t want to be caught in a confined space with nothing but reporters. Might as well open a vein in shark-infested water.”
I catch sight of several of the Bone Guard standing at the rope that separates them from the press area, as well as Trent and his wife huddled together with Marc. Flint and Savannah had a class planned for this morning and couldn’t make it, but gave us their congratulations.
After being stuck all night with Lynch and Bailey, I had tried to get Marc to stay at the hotel and rest after Darius relieved him, but he refused, and it warms me to see him here with the others, showing his support.
It feels off to even be doing this right now, with the threat of the Wild Hunt looming, but there will never be a good time. There will always be a case that needs to be solved or a crisis to overcome.
Lynch’s face flickers onto the screen. He sits with his back to a corner, away from the windows to keep his location secret. They had passed another uneventful night as far as killer dogs go, and we don’t need the media tracking them down for interviews.
Did Darius stash Bailey somewhere for this press conference? Or did he just instill the fear of death by fire into the man to ensure he stayed out of the way?
Julian straightens his tie. “Looks like we’re ready.”
He strides to the podium and takes the microphone at the center. “Our appreciation, everyone, for coming this morning.”
“What is city hall trying to pull with these sudden changes?” a reporter shouts.
Julian raises his hands for quiet. “We will have time for questions, but first, let me introduce the new Captain of Clearhelm Police, Merripen Cay, a long-time resident of Clearhelm and protector of our citizens.”
Julian turns and gestures for me to come forward.
The stiff fabric of the uniform itches as I step up to the podium on Julian’s left and stare out at the reporters. I spot a few familiar faces from Sharpe’s last press conference in front of the Yard, including the platinum-blond woman.
I take a deep breath and glance out at the crowd. “Good afternoon. As the newly appointed Captain of Clearhelm Police, I promise to serve this city with honor, dedication, and a fierce determination to keep our citizens safe. This is a responsibility I do not take lightly, and I am grateful for the opportunity to stand with our brave officers against all dangers that face our people.”
