1.From Frying Pan…
Lysander
“Look at the biker by the bar. Is there a sexier man here?”
Out celebrating my impending return to the Ashvale Department of Supernatural Affairs, my colleague and friend Chase Slate had already started his self-appointed job as my wingman. He pointed out a man in a leather jacket who set his motorcycle helmet on the counter as he ordered a drink. His blond hair, thin frame, and passing resemblance to my brother kept me from commenting on his attractiveness.
"Chase, that’s not going to work.”
“Alright, you got me.I’mthe sexiest guy here, but since I’m taken and basically your brother-in-law, I wasn’t counting myself.”
Chase Slate’s devilish smirk and smoldering honey-colored eyes did absolutely nothing for me. I pointedly averted my gaze, drumming my fingers against our tabletop and wishing for my beer. As the closest bar to our precinct that catered exclusively to those Aware of the supernatural world, this place was always packed when no magical emergency or heinous mystical crime threatened the city of Ashvale.
Chase kicked my leg under the table, refusing to be ignored. “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t hook up and have a good time. This is your last night of freedom.”
Technically he was right. My last night off before I went back to work. Being a supernatural detective in a growing city full of humans, shifters, magic, and plenty of opportunities to get into trouble, I’d soon have little free time.
But considering I’d been on administrative leave, suspended without pay, while the higher ups discussed an appropriate punishment for what happened on our last case, it hadn’t exactly been a relaxing vacation.
It felt just as accurate to say this was myfirstnight of freedom. Nothing hung over my head anymore.
When our beers finally arrived, Chase raised his in a toast. “Here’s to you rejoining the force and getting the hell out of my apartment.”
“Touching.” I grabbed my drink and ignored his attempted toast.
Chase forcibly clinked his bottle against mine with too much glee. “And this time we aren’t even forced to be partners.”
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get more sentimental.”
“Hey, we sucked as partners.”
A headstrong wolf shifter like him who followed his instincts while investigating had any number of reasons to clash with a cerebral fox shifter like me, but trust had been our main problem.
A long search for my half-brother led me to Ashvale, where I began an off-the-books investigation into whether Matthias Hodge or Merritt Slate were dirty. One of them threatened my brother and all the work our department did.
What started as a quest to uncover the truth and protect my brother took me closer to crossing the line than ever before, much closer than I ever wanted to be. Eventually Hodge's corruption and twisted schemes were revealed and stopped but getting to that point nearly cost me and my brother everything.
Seeing as my partner had been Director Merritt Slate’s little brother, Chase Slate, we hadn’t started off on the right foot.
Ironically, he might be one of the few people on the force whostilltrusted me, but the man we had in common created a conflict of interest and prevented a permanent partnership between us. The brother I searched for, Lucas Milton, was also Chase’s mate.
"Hey man,” Chase said. “I’m glad you’re back."
That made two of us. Though the time to get here passed so slowly, in hindsight, re-instatement might have been the easy part…
The scent of grainy beer hit my nose as golden-brown liquid sloshed onto our table. Only quick reflexes saved my shirt from being hit.
"Watch it," Chase barked.
“Sorry, Agent Slate, didn’t see ya there.” Officer Daniels, a hefty man and bear shifter clapped Chase on the shoulder.
On his retreat he ‘accidentally’ rammed his hip into my shoulder hard, leaning close enough to hiss, “Nobody’s going to forget what you did anytime soon.”
…I had a long road ahead of me.
More rumors swirled about what happened than fact, probably painting me in an even worse light, but I didn’t plan on setting the record straight. If I hadn’t forgiven myself yet, how could I ask anyone else to do the same?
“He’s right, you know. No matter how many of these I drink,” Chase raised his beer bottle to me. “I’ll still remember how you were willing to do anything, including blowing up your own life, to keep my mate safe.”
