Keele had the same love of that tangled bureaucracy that Marcus did, but didn’t destroy her desks when frustrated, lacking the very large claws of the Leontine sergeant. “You’re getting too attached,” she finally said. It wasn’t what Kaylin was expecting. “You’re an officer of the Halls of Law. Mrs. Erickson is a civilian. She’s not family. Your responsibilities to her lie in the enforcement of Imperial Laws. Do not forget that.”

Kaylin offered a clipped nod—necessary because she was standing stiffly at what was called attention.

She thought better of her choice after the first four hours of the long morning. Three reports of vampiric activity—in different parts of the city—hit the desk, along with reports of hauntings and in one case, ghostly Dragons. One report of talking buildings—but not the type of talking that Kaylin was familiar with, as the building in question wasn’t so much talking as shrieking.

There were reports of missing people, and those, Kaylin passed—gratefully—to Missing Persons. Most of those reports sorted themselves out without legal intervention; some didn’t. Kaylin was mulling over one of them when Mrs. Erickson arrived at the front desk.

Her face was swollen, and the darker skin implied that the bruise that was coming up would be large. She was, however, carrying her basket.

“Sit down, dear,” she said. “I’m fine. I tripped while coming down the stairs—I hope the contents of the basket aren’t too damaged.”

All of the blood rushed out of Kaylin’s body; she was frozen for one long moment. She had no idea what her expression looked like to the outside world, but it clearly looked bad, because Mrs. Erickson moved quickly, setting her basket down on the front desk, and reaching for Kaylin’s hands. Which were balled in fists.

Blood rushed back in at the contact, and with it, fury.

“You fell down the stairs.” This was not the first time Kaylin had heard this sentence. It wasn’t the first time she’d assumed it was a lie, either.

“Corporal.”

Kaylin froze, years of training coming to the rescue as Sergeant Keele entered the space behind the front desk and the actual office she ran. Mrs. Erickson immediately withdrew her hands.

“Sergeant,” she said, her voice containing a smile that Kaylin couldn’t otherwise see.

Sergeant Keele nodded. “Imelda.”

“You don’t come out of the office much anymore.”

“I’m a sergeant now. Babysitting the Hawks is more than a full-time job.” The tone of Sergeant Keele’s voice pulled Kaylin the rest of the way out of blank, all-encompassing rage; the expression on her face did the rest.

She was actually smiling. Like a human being. At another person.

“They are so lucky to have you,” Mrs. Erickson said, beaming.

“I’m sure Corporal Neya has opinions about that. As do most of my roster.”