Theory said that magic and tech used to coexist in a balance. Like the pendulum of a grandfather clock that barely moved, if at all. But then came the Age of Man, and men are made of progress. They overdeveloped magic, pushing the pendulum farther and farther to one side until it came crashing down and started swinging back and forth, bringing with it tech waves. And then in turn, technology oversaturated the world, helped once again by pesky Man, and the pendulum swung again, to the side of magic this time. The previous Shift from magic to tech took place somewhere around the start of the Iron Age. The current Shift officially dawned almost thirty years ago. It began with a flare, and with each subsequent flare, more of our world succumbed to magic.
Weird shit happened during the flares. The magic surge only lasted two to three days, but those days were killer. For a moment I wished I was still just a merc. I could go home and wait all the craziness out.
A woman appeared in the doorway—my petitioner. Slender and elegant in that willowy way of tall and naturally slim people, she wasn’t simply attractive, she was gorgeous: beautifully cut Asian eyes, perfect skin, full mouth, and blue-black hair that spilled over her shoulders in a glossy straight wave. Her dress was black and clingy. Her shoes made my calves ache.
And she looked familiar, but for the life of me I couldn’t recall where I had seen her before.
“Kate Daniels?”
That’s me. “Yes?”
“My name is Myong Williams.”
We shook hands awkwardly. “Please, sit down.”
She sat in the client’s chair and crossed one lean leg over the other in a whisper of fabric.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She hesitated, unconsciously repositioning her legs to better show them off. “I’ve come to ask you for a favor.”
“Of what nature?”
“Personal.”
She fell silent. We’d reached a standstill.
Something clicked in my brain. “I remember where I’ve seen you before. You’re Curran’s…”—lover, mistress, honey-bunny—“significant other.” Dear God, what could the Beast Lord’s concubine possibly want from me?
“We’re no longer together,” Myong said.
Her problem wasn’t connected to Curran. Good. Great. Fantastic. The more distance that lay between me and the Beast Lord, the better it was for everybody involved. We had worked together during the Red Point Stalker case and almost killed each other.
Myong shifted in her chair, adjusted the hem of her dress with a casual swipe of her fingers, and furrowed her meticulously waxed eyebrows. “You and Maximillian…”
The mention of Max’s name brought a bit of unease. I had thought I was over him. We had met during the investigation of Greg’s death. He was handsome, smart, occasionally kind, and very interested in me. I had wanted…I was not sure what the hell I had wanted. Intimacy. Sex. Someone to come home to. It didn’t end well. In fact, he probably hated me. “Max and I are also no longer together.”
Myong nodded. “I know. We’re engaged.”
I didn’t quite catch that. “Who?”
“Maximillian Crest and me. We’re engaged to be married.”
The world had just stood on its ears. “So let me get this straight. You and my—” Ex-boyfriend would be inaccurate since technically we were never a couple. “Could have been” boyfriend was plain stupid. “You and Max are an item?”
“Yes.”
Awkward, to say the least. I felt no jealousy, but talking to her made me uncomfortable and I couldn’t pinpoint why. I forced my lips into a smile and leaned back. “Congratulations. What do you want from me?”
Myong looked uncomfortable. “It’s customary to ask Curran’s permission.”
“You mean he has to approve your marriage to Crest? Even though you and Curran are no longer together?”
“Yes. I’m a member of the Pack.”
That explained things. Curran ruled the shapeshifter Pack with an iron fist. Every shapeshifter in the Southeast called him lord. Unless that shapeshifter was a loup, in which case he usually didn’t have a chance to call Curran anything before the Beast Lord ripped him to pieces. I looked her over and arched my eyebrows. “Fox?”
She sighed. “Everybody thinks that. I turn into a mink.”
I tried to imagine a weremink and failed. It would appeal to Crest, though. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“I asked Curran,” she said.
“And he said no?”
“No. He didn’t say anything. It’s been two months.” Myong leaned forward, hands folded together. “My alpha refuses to broach the question to Curran. I was hoping you could ask my lord for me.”