“So you aren’t ignoring me?”
“No…”
“Does that mean it’s not going back?” he growls.
“It is. The cat is totally leaving!” I insist. “I just need to make it understand that.”
Every time I try to send it back through the passage to where it came from, it’s like there’s a wall stopping me, something pushing back against my energy. I get the cat back beyond the passage and watch as the purple light shrinks—then expands again, opening back up every time I try to close it.
Maybe a stubborn cat with its own set of necromantic powers isn’t the best fit.
“Go on,” Harper orders, voice full of authority. Is he going full-on Alpha at a ghost house cat? “Shoo.”
I think the cat rolls its eyes.
Maybe the aversion goes both ways? I point at Harper and inform the cat, “He’s a werewolf.”
The tails flick in two different directions. The cat yawns and its narrow-eyed gaze flits to the detective, full of contempt. Then again, that’s basically its normal look.
But it must work because the cat disappears and the passage closes. I smile at Harper, expecting him to be happy since I finally got rid of the dastardly kitty, but he’s staring stone-faced at the empty space where the passage stood.
“This isn’t working,” Harper says. He turns and leaves without another word.
~
Dodger
Okay, trying to find a partner from beyond this plane wasn’t exactly a resounding success. Still, a good effort. No reason to be upset.
Marlow agrees with my thoughts. “Hey, you did good. We can try again later.”
Sure. It will probably work better without a stubborn shifter criticizing every choice and silently and not-so-silently judging. I sit down at the edge of the ring, my legs kicking against the edge. Why does it bother me so much that Harper left in disgust? It shouldn’t.
We weren’t exactly getting along great, even when he helped me practice. But he did help me anyway. Whenever it seems like we can actually get along for six seconds, something goes wrong. Why does it keep disappointing me?
“—just in time. Seriously, thank you.” That’s Harper’s voice. He isn’t gone?
I swivel around and see him in the doorway, talking to someone I can’t see. He fills the doorway, blocking whoever he’s speaking to.
“Thanks, Wynn,” Harper says. They say a few more words and then the door closes. Harper’s still here.
“Wynn?” Marlow echoes. “My Wynn?”
“He did me a favor.”
Marlow narrows his eyes. “Why is my Wynn doing you favors?”
“Because he helped me track this down.” Harper approaches the ring carrying something. A guitar case?
When he holds it out toward me, I almost think he’s attacking, even though I don’t think he’d actually hurt me. And attacking someone with a guitar case isn’t a thing.
I blink, processing. “Is that for me?”
“The whip doesn’t suit you,” he says stiffly.
I frown down at the coil of leather on the floor. “I haven’t gotten comfortable with it yet.”
“Are you sure that’s the problem? Is that the approach you really want to take, battling for dominance?”
