“Are you listening to me?” Smith loomed over me, not intentionally. At his size, looming was how he appeared to average-sized people.

  As much as I wanted to say yes, lying to the boss seldom worked out well. “Not as closely as I should’ve been, sir.”

  Smith rocked back on his heels. “And why not?”

  “Because I think CJ is a victim. Other than the first night, he hasn’t killed anyone, and the spells on him felt different than on the others I’ve examined.” As soon as I was done, I knew I’d made a mistake.

  “Any evidence?”

  And there it was. “No, sir. I didn’t have a chance to examine the spells in detail.”

  Smith gave me that look, and I felt about as big as an amoeba. “He’s proved dangerous. We need to capture or kill him.”

  “Yes, sir.” If I could’ve vanished right there, I would’ve.

  “Now, as I was saying, the DNA results are back. They matched the blood typing, so the rogue is CJ. We’re working on contacting any family, but so far, no luck.” He glanced around and lowered his voice. “I did get a call from a very concerned client of his who happens to be based out of that government lab east of town. CJ was in the middle of doing custom work for them. They’re very interested to hear the results of our investigation and if there’s any chance all of this could represent a security threat for them.”

  My ear perked up. For the first time, we had a hint of a motive. “Were they willing to say what he was making? Or how sensitive the project is?”

  “The individual I spoke to had selective hearing, and those questions were deselected.”

  Typical.

  “However, I will be reviewing all the case reports.” His voice returned to its usual volume. “It would be nice if we could get more information about the fey.”

  “Still unidentified?”

  “Yes.” Smith pursed his lips. “Pine, I don’t have magic, but I’ve worked with witches before. I know this mess wasn’t your fault. I know without you it would’ve been worse, but...”

  “People hear ‘witch,’ and they think ‘miracle worker.’” I fiddled with my wand. “I’ll try to do better.”

  “That’s all I ask.” He patted my shoulder. “Write up the report, and then get yourself home. Rest up, and be ready. This isn’t over yet.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Smith grinned as I walked back to my car. My tone must not have been as professional as I’d thought. Narzel fart.

  At work, I found an official-looking email stating Floyd was suspended for the next two weeks while an investigation happened, at which time I was welcome to observe the hearing where they’d decide his fate.

  Considering how this week had gone, being alive in two weeks would be a feat. After dutifully adding the hearing to my calendar, I firmly filed the event under Problems for Later.

  The report went as well as they ever do, and by lunch I was chowing down a medium pizza in my PJs while watching a rerun of Mermaid Shores. Three mermaids were bickering over a hunky merman when someone knocked on my door.

  A slice of pizza landed back in the box with a thud, and I pulled my wand out of its sheath without pausing to wipe off my hand. Randolf was dead this time of day, and like me, most of the residents should be at work. So who would be knocking now?

  They pounded on my door again. “Kelsey? Are you there? I saw your car. Please let me in.”

  “Aww, Narzel.” Snagging a napkin off the pile, I cleaned the pizza grease off my wand. Ignoring my brother’s renewed knocking, I tucked it back into the sheath before I unlocked my door. “What are you doing here?”

  Drew brushed a tear away with the back of his hand and launched himself at me.

  I caught him and held him as he hugged me too tightly. Even as magically depleted as I was, it only took a nudge to push the door closed. It took a lot more effort to break the hug and set him up on the couch with a slice of pizza. Through it all, Drew didn’t say anything about why he was here rather than at work or home with our parents, but I could be a patient hunter.

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  He was reaching for his second piece of pizza when I pounced. “Not that I don’t love to see you, but what are you doing here?”

  Drew’s hand fell away from the box, and he squirmed. “I want to stay with you for a few days.”

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I prayed to the earth for strength. Of all the times to stay with me, he picked now. Without a parent or even an overnight bag. “And since neither Mom or Dad are with you, you got here how and told them what?”

  Drew scratched a frayed spot on his jeans.

  “How did you get here, Drew?” Technically he was nearing adulthood, but he wasn’t one yet. Which left me in an uncomfortable position. Being a good sister meant being more of a second mother. I was willing to bet real money the last thing he wanted was more parenting right now.

  He heaved a sigh. “Walked to the bus station, then took another bus to this neighborhood. I walked the rest of the way.”

  “From where? The house?”

  “Yah, but they think I’m going to a friend’s.”

  On the bright side, that meant I only had to make one phone call. “Did you leave a note for Mom and Dad?”

  He shook his head.

  It was my turn to sigh. “You know I have to call them.”

  “Do you?” He looked at me with pleading eyes.

  “But as your big sister, I’ll give you ten minutes to tell me why you’re here before I call.”

  One eyebrow crept up. “That’s it? Ten minutes?”

  “The big sister special.” I grinned, or maybe grimaced. If they knew he was missing, Mom and Dad would be worried. Since I hadn’t gotten a call yet, they probably didn’t know, and they wouldn’t until he was due home.

  “Whatever.” He rolled his eyes and reached for a slice of pizza.

  I whacked his hand and tugged the box onto my lap. “You crashed my pizza party. I’ll share after you talk.” I chomped down on a slice and stared at him as I chewed.

  Drew flopped back against the back of the couch. “Whatever.”

  “Nine minutes.” Turning the slice around, I bit into the stuffed crust.

  “Last night, they found out I lied about applying to college.”

  I kept eating pizza.

  “What’s the big deal with college?” Drew scooted around to look at me. “No one wanted you to go, but you did. I don’t want to go, and it’s all they can talk about.”

  “Parents, man.” Big sistering at its finest.

  “I think they’re mad because I told them I took the application money and bought clay and a tiny bit of glaze.”

  Well... that wasn’t what I’d expected. To buy myself time, I finished off the slice of pizza.

  Drew lasted all of four breaths before he started explaining. “Remember the vase I gave you for Christmas? I made it in art class, but then we stopped doing pottery, and I love pottery. So when I got my next pay check, I cashed it rather than depositing it.”

  Chewing kept me from commenting on just how happy that must’ve made Mom and Dad.

  “I moved my work hours around so I could go to a pottery studio and take some classes. When I wanted to start experimenting, I needed more clay, and glaze is frightfully expensive, so I re-purposed the application money.” He took a breath and kept going. “I don’t want to go to college. I want to be an artist. There’re better studios here in the city, with better kilns. I can get a job and do the pottery on the side until it takes off. So, will you let me move in?”

  I choked on the pizza I was swallowing and grabbed for the water. Gulping it helped force the lump down my throat. Still coughing, I wheezed, “What?”

  “Can I move in?” He looked at me with big puppy-dog eyes.

  This wasn’t a conversation for pizza. I needed something stronger.

  Eying the wine rack, I wished I didn’t have to be the responsible older sister. I could end up driving him home, so no wine for me. With a sigh, I shoved the pizza box in his direction.

  “Can we back up for a moment?”

  Drew nodded, his cheeks bulging with pizza.

  I chose my words carefully. “Did you apply to any college?”

  He nodded and managed to say, “Two-year school.”

  “Did you get in? Just nod. I don’t need to see your half-eaten food.”

  He bobbed his head.

  “Grand.” He could use that when he talked to Mom and Dad. It wouldn’t get him out of trouble, but it was better than nothing. “I’m guessing they have pottery classes. Do they have any business classes?”

  “Don’t know.” He finally swallowed and could talk like he had manners. “But it has lots of art classes, including pottery.”

  “And why can’t you live with Mom and Dad while doing this?”

  “The studio I’m at only has a small kiln. Plus, Mom and Dad don’t approve.”

  Staying at work would’ve been more restful. “That’s not how this works. You’re seventeen. You can’t just leave.” I held up a hand when he started to protest. “There’s a better solution here if we look. Why did you apply to that school?”

  “It had a lot of art classes, more than I can learn where I’m at. The studio near the house only does basic stuff.”

  “Did you ask if they would teach you more?”

  “No.” He paused, pizza half way to his mouth. “Should I have?”

  “Yes, but that’s fixable after we patch things together between you and the parentals.” I reached for my phone.

  “You can’t!” Drew started to lunge for me, but the pizza box slipped, and the slice in his hand drooped, threatening to lose the olives and pepperoni. He managed to save the box and the slice. “You said I had ten minutes!”

  “And I gave you fifteen.” I grabbed my phone but didn’t make any move to call Mom or Dad. “I have to tell them where you are, and then we’ll talk about the adult art of compromise, how much it sucks, how you won’t win, you might lose, but it’ll be worth it anyway.”

  He made a face and leaned back. “That sounds terrible.”

  “Usually, but it’s thirty percent of adulting.” I got up and headed for the bedroom.

  “What’s the rest?” He yelled. “Come on, Kelsey. What’s the rest?”

  I just smiled as I closed the door.