I blinked like an owl. “That's not really a reason,” I choked.
Ethan shrugged. “It is to me.”
“No.” I shook my head slowly. “Those are adjectives.” Ohmygod ohmygod. He thinks I'm pretty.
Ethan let out a soft laugh. He adjusted and leaned against the island. “Point to you. Alright. You're struggling with your magic and lying to Evie about it.”
Every time I started to think the guy was sweet, he dropped a fucking bomb on my head. I stayed silent.
“I have a hybrid mage at my Keep,” Ethan said softly. “Someone who might be able to help you manage whatever is happening to you.”
My brain snagged on his words. I'd always had magic inside of me. Inherent power given to me by the vampire side, another strange vein of power given to me by what I thought was the fae—though I'd never been sure—and whatever else this was living in my veins that night of exposure.
The fae magic was warm and cozy, and I was convinced my baking and other similar skills were attributed to that power. My vampire powers were all the normal things one of our kind could do. I could run longer and faster than anyone I knew, even a shifter. Super strength and agility came next, followed by the ability to mesmerize, a talent I never used unless my life was in danger. But the other power—the one that allowed me to pull a god through dimensions, that was the one that scared the hell out of me.
I shoved a bite of cookie in my mouth and chewed while I thought of a response. The bastard knew I was tempted by his offer. I could see it in his eyes.
“And I could use your help.”
Okay. Hell had officially frozen over. My first instinct was to feel flattered. My second was suspicion. “You're a Shifter Lord. You have access to more assets and information than I could ever dream of. What could I do that you can't do twice as well or four times as fast?”
Ethan's eyes flickered. “People like you.”
I tilted my head. “I'm not sure that's true. People like Evie. They're a little frightened of me.”
Ethan shook his head. “Disagree. Evie is likable, but most people are afraid of her on a cellular level. People, especially shifters, sense her otherness.”
“And they don't sense that about me?”
Ethan's eyes slid over to the tin of cookies. Without asking, I slid the tin over and put three more cookies on his plate. His eyes lit up. “Your scent is mostly vampire. You work with herbs and spices and flowers almost all day, and you have for years. Those things entwine in your scent and hide things.” A faint smile. “Though I suspect you know that.”
I did. Frigging Ethan. “I like tea. And flowers. Sue me.”
“Keep your secrets,” he said with a shrug. “As long as they are not harmful to me or Rowan, I will never pry.”
“Regardless, you are more familiar to them than Evie. People talk to you. They trust you.”
“They don't trust you?”
“Like Evie, I'm afraid most people sense my otherness.”
“What otherness?” I sensed something different about him, but I thought it was because of what he'd been through. Much like my herbs and flowers and tea, grief could entangle itself into one's scent for all time.
“If I let you keep your secrets, you will allow me mine.”
His tone brooked no argument. “Fine, but I still don't understand how I could help you with anything.”
His jaw tightened. “Things are happening in my territory. Unexplainable things. Shifters are coming up missing. I need someone to quietly investigate what's happening so I can fix this.”
I shook my head. “What in the world makes you think I'm even a little qualified for investigative work?”
This was madness. A bad feeling crept into my gut. “Ethan. I work in a flower shop.”
He polished off his last cookie. “Mmm. Yes, you do. But you haven't always worked in one, have you?”
The past slammed into me like a train—memories I'd long buried rising toward the surface and scarring my heart all over again. No. I wouldn't, couldn't do this again. I set my martini glass down and straightened. “Get out of my house, Ethan Flint.”
The Lord ignored me. Ethan crossed his arms and watched me. “You'll receive a handsome salary.”
