“No.” Thierry walked a fine line just by feeding me this much information. If I wanted that interview, I would have to conduct it myself. “Marshal Ayer isn’t accepting visitors. Her doctors forbid it. She’s practically living in isolation. They say the presence of others upsets her too much.”

Warm fingers curled over my forearm. “Tell me you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

“Crap.” I rolled the paper and dropped it on the table. “I keep forgetting that talking to you is the same as talking to Graeson.”

“Sorry.” Her shrug conveyed sheepishness and a hint of what I hazarded to label as relief. “It’s not like he can hear every conversation every pack member is having at any given time. He has to tune in to get the right channel, and there are seven of us so…”

“Seven?” That couldn’t be right. “That’s not the whole pack. There were that many wolves in Mississippi.”

“We’re separate from the rest until we release Graeson,” she explained. “It’s like we’re operating on another frequency, and all the others hear is static around us.”

“Hmm.” That explained how packs kept their business secret from other wargs. Different frequencies. “So Bessemer is the only one who can listen in?”

“Yes.” She shivered. “He’s the alpha.”

That tremor in her voice grew stronger with every mention of Bessemer and made my back teeth ache. A week ago—two weeks ago—I wasn’t this person. I did my job and went home. I waved to colleagues who didn’t know my name any more than I remembered theirs. I smiled and made small talk when forced, but I couldn’t tell you details of a single conversation once it ended. Part of that was my job. Earthen Conclave agents drifted from conclave outpost to outpost as needed. We usually ended up with a spot at the local marshal’s office, but we weren’t part of the team. We were outsiders looking in on the tight-knit units that called those outposts home. And part of it was my nature. Gemini tended to look homeward for companionship. And yet another part, the largest part, was the lack in me that I felt certain everyone saw. I know I did every time I met my gaze in a mirror.

Being alone had suited me fine until I met a sometimes-mermaid with cotton candy-pink hair who had teased me out of my shell. She had watched over me when I was drained from expending too much borrowed magic and put her trust in me so completely that her faith staggered me. Harlow, in the short time I had known her, had pried a fine crack open in my armor, and Dell had wiggled through.