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“Hey!” I yelled. Once I had all eyes on me, I said, “I map my own routes, and I select my own back-up. And I don’t answer questions. Take it or leave it.”
The mayor gave me a patronizing smile. “Now, Miss Crowe—"
“I don’t need your money,” I said. “I’m accepting, and you’ll get your kickback for it, but if you think that this is anything other than a set-up to get at me, you’re fools.”
“Why do it?” one of the pencil pushers asked.
“That’s a question,” Eli said calmly. “I believe Ms. Crowe has already said she doesn’t answer those.”
Neither the mayor nor the chief liked it, but Gary and Eli both looked pleased with my terms. That told me I wasn’t being unreasonable. I didn’t need approval, but I thought of my friends—and whatever category Eli was—as a metric to know if I was being as ass.
“It’s that or no dice,” I added when the chief looked likely to object again. “You’ll lose fewer officers if they let me do my thing unaided.”
Then one of the pencil pushers, a woman who looked like she ate bunnies for kicks, piped up, “The department still gets their funding if she dies. There’s no protection clause in there.”
NOPD needed the money, and I’d be getting paid to do what I’d be doing anyhow. There was no real issue there. The larger issue was simply who wanted me on the streets and why. I took my copy of the form, which I would only sign after legal perusal, and left.
Honestly, the whole business could’ve been handled over the phone. I thought sometimes the city budget could be managed better if they focused on the work of keeping the city—and NOPD—safe rather than meetings and pencil pushers whose function appeared to be note-taking and file shuffling.
But what do I know? I was a freelancer. I raised the dead, and I beheadeddraugr. No one else in the city did either, so I wasn’t really big on meetings. Most client meetings were handled by either Eli or, lately, Ally. That left me with the sword-swinging and occasional death-dodging. Andthatdidn’t require meetings.
Outside the police office, very much in sight of the watch, I waited for Tres. I had too many questions, not enough patience. He knew something.
“You waited for me!” Tres sounded excited, obviously not noticing the angry fae just around the corner. “I’m so—”my sword was out and tickling Tres’ throat “—glad.”
“Ma’am!” an officer called out.
“Personal disagreement,” Tres called back breathily. “We’re close friends. It’s fine!”
Another officer made a disgusted noise. “Rich guys and their weird kinks.”
“Is this a kink, Tres?” I asked. “Pissing me off so I consider ending your servitude?”
“Do you want it to be? If it would please you—”
“Stop.” I scowled.
It bothered me more than it would’ve when I was single. I mean, who doesn’t have at least one kink, right? But I was far from single, and even if I had been, Tres’ obsessive interest in me was creepy as fuck in the best of lights. Ally, in a weird maternal move, had been micro-dosing Tres with venom before he was dead. The result was that he had been unpleasantly attentive to me since we’d met. Now that he was dead, it was like having my own personal stalker.
I lowered my sword. “Don’t be gross, Tres.”
He wiped the blood from his throat with a silk handkerchief because even dead, Tres was the embodiment of money and style.
Eli watched the whole thing with the air of someone utterly bored, but I saw the tightening around his eyes.
“I’ll be whatever you want,” Tres whispered. “I need to see you, Gen. Please.”
“Stop.” I poked his shoulder with the tip of my sword. “What I want is for you to be a living, breathing, not-my-problem human.”
He slumped.
“Did you put up the money for the grant? Truth.” I wasn’t sure what was and was not within the rules of my binding, but I figured I might as well add a little magic zing to my question.
Tres’ eyes fluttered as if I’d caressed him. “No. If you need money, though, I opened an account for you. Anything you need.”
“Miss Crowe’s needs are all met, Chaddock.” Eli stood, arms folded and exuding possessiveness.
I flashed him a smile. “While my fiancé is right, I would still like your word that this grant was not your doing. So, tell me: Did you have anything to do with the grant?”
