She rarely left the outpost the Northeastern Conclave called home. I glanced behind her, almost expecting to see her Unseelie counterpart. Magistrates came in pairs—one Seelie and one Unseelie—as a means of keeping the balance between their two factions. As a Seelie myself, it was natural she would be my contact person. But the absence of her counterpart pricked at the worry budding in the back of my mind.

Thierry had warned me that Charybdis was the product of a portal breach, and that changed everything. He was a dangerous fae preying on other fae. Wouldn’t both parties be equally invested in seeing the killer captured in the interest of appeasing their partisans? He had targeted both Seelie and Unseelie, as well as Earth natives like Graeson’s sister.

To distract myself from what was to come, I glanced around. “It’s busy for a safe house, isn’t it?”

“As far as the mortals are concerned, it’s Tuna Tuesday at the homeless shelter.” She extended her arm, and I braced for impact before shaking her hand. Electricity swam through my veins and fisted my heart in a vise. “Camille.” Her lips curved upward, but her gaze remained distant and hard. “Despite the circumstances, it is good to see you. We miss you in Maine.”

“Tennessee is nice. I like the mountains.” I retreated closer to Graeson, which earned me an arched eyebrow from him. “I like the marshal’s office I work out of now.” Remembering my manners, I forced out, “I appreciate your recommendation. It went a long ways toward convincing the office they could afford me.”

“It was nothing. I’m pleased your new environment suits you. For the time being. I know how much your family enjoys travel.” Vause held out her hand, and one of her guards squirted hand sanitizer into her palm. The scent of strawberry lemonade tickled my nose. “Who is this? Did you take a cab from the hotel?” She massaged in the liquid, gaze raking over Graeson with no small amount of disdain before turning back to me. “Ask your driver to wait in the car.”

“No offense, ma’am—” and he made it sound plenty offensive, “—but the conclave governs fae.” A feral grin. “I’m not fae.”

Wargs were, in polite terms, human genetic mutations. The same as vampires. Magic was in the mix too, but it was Earth magic. Not Faerie-born.

“This is a conclave-owned facility.” Smugness radiated through the rub of her hands. “And I am asking you to leave.”

In a heartbeat, one of the guards drew his sword and pressed it to Graeson’s throat. The warg didn’t blink. If anything, his impending decapitation appeared to bore him. I wasn’t half so blasé about blood spilling without cause.