"How's it going out there?" Harper asked, gesturing vaguely toward the bank lobby.
Lydia slipped into one of the chairs facing Harper's desk, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Better than expected, actually. The response to Katerina's interview has been overwhelmingly positive. Are you following it on social media?"
A shudder went through Harper's frame. "Not a chance," she mumbled, but Lydia only laughed.
"Well, you should. She's trending everywhere. And Bethany, who handles the Valley Travel account, says the owner is overwhelmed with people booking vacations and tours this summer."
Harper giggled. "Oh, my God. Really?"
"Mmhmm," Lydia replied. "All hopeful of seeing shifters. Some are even asking her if they have a shifters tour."
Staring at Lydia, Harper fought down the urge to facepalm. "You're kidding," she said blankly.
"No, I swear."
"But no problems? On social media, I mean?"
"Oh, there are always skeptics," Lydia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "A whole bunch of them are claiming it's an elaborate hoax - special effects, CGI, that sort of thing." She snickered. "But my favorite has to be one of our customers who came in this morning, clutching her pearls and declaring that shapeshifters are clearly a sign of the end times."
Harper couldn't help but laugh. "End times? Really?"
"Oh yes. According to her, we're all demons sent to herald the apocalypse." Lydia rolled her eyes. "I had the hardest time keeping a straight face while she was ranting about it. If she only knew who she was telling this to!"
Harper snickered.
"What about you? Have you had any clients asking about..." Lydia gestured vaguely, "everything?"
"Just Mr. Jameson," Harper said. "But he was more curious as to whether I'd ever actually met a shapeshifter, than concerned that they exist. Once I steered the conversation back to his portfolio, he seemed satisfied."
"Good," Lydia approved. "That's exactly how we want to handle it. Yes, this is all new and shiny and needs to be acknowledged, but first and foremost, we're a bank."
Lydia rose from her chair with characteristic feline grace. "Keep me posted if anything comes up," her manager said with a warm smile before heading back to her duties.
Turning back to her work, Harper felt lighter than she had in weeks. Her computer hummed quietly as she reviewed investment portfolios and prepared for upcoming client meetings.
To her surprise and relief, the Hostile Harpies seemed to be keeping their distance today. There were no mysterious mishaps with her office supplies, no pranks, no sabotage of her belongings. Perhaps they were too distracted by the shapeshifter revelation to focus on tormenting her. Whatever the reason, Harper welcomed the reprieve.
At lunchtime, Harper collected her purse from the desk drawer she kept it locked in. She was eager to sample the recently opened Thai restaurant around the corner that Nathan had suggested. The tranquil efficiency of her morning had left her feeling upbeat. It had been ages since she'd experienced an entire morning without the Hostile Harpies doing something to ruin her peace of mind.
An hour later, she returned to the bank feeling refreshed after her lunch. The spicy basil chicken had been exactly what she needed - the perfect blend of heat and flavor. She smiled, already looking forward to telling Nathan about it later.
Nodding at Jake, who stood guard by the front door as she entered the bank, Harper made her way to her office. She washumming a little tune under her breath, feeling a glow of well-being, when she came to an abrupt halt, freezing in her office doorway, the acrid stench of smoke and ash assaulting her nose. Her hand gripped the doorknob as she struggled to process the scene before her. Her once-orderly desk had transformed into something from a nightmare… an all-too-familiar nightmare.
Papers lay scattered across the floor, their edges blackened and curling. Grey ash coated every surface like volcanic fallout, turning her workspace into an apocalyptic landscape. But it was the candle wax that made her blood run cold.
Thick rivers of grey wax had flowed down her computer monitor, solidifying in grotesque stalactites that dripped onto her keyboard. The waxy streams spread across her desk, transforming her workstation into something that looked like it was decomposing before her eyes.
Small bits of debris littered the area, evidence of deliberate destruction. Her gaze fell on the smoke detector lying on the floor, as if it had fallen during an actual fire. Her fox's heightened sense of smell picked up traces of smoke that still lingered in the air, mixing with the sharp scent of melted wax.
Reyna stirred restlessly within her, hackles rising at this violation of their territory. The origami crane - the brownie's gift - lay crushed beneath a glob of wax, its delicate paper wings permanently sealed in grey.
Harper's vision blurred as memory slammed into her with brutal force. The acrid smell of smoke transported her back four years, to another bank, another desk. She'd been reviewing quarterly reports when the first wisps of smoke had curled under her office door. The fire alarm had blared seconds later, but she'd already been moving, fox instincts alerting her to danger before human senses could catch up.
The evacuation had been chaotic. Smoke had filled the corridors, thick and choking. She'd helped guide others to safety,her enhanced senses proving invaluable even as she'd struggled to keep her fox contained. The terror of being trapped, of being discovered, had paralyzed her until a security guard - Jake - had physically pulled her through the exit.
When they'd finally been allowed back into the building days later, her desk had looked exactly like this - papers scattered and charred, everything coated in ash, wax from melted emergency candles dripped across her workspace.
The memory overlapped with present reality until Harper couldn't tell which was which. Her throat constricted, lungs refusing to draw breath. Her limbs felt leaden, frozen in place as she stared at the grotesque recreation before her.
