Page 10 of Paws & Order

"Not enchanted, at least not obviously. You have an admirer, Morales. Or an enemy with a poet's heart—be careful, that kind can be the most dangerous."

I grin because it's expected.

"Maybe I should forward them to your office, Boss. You could use the scent upgrade."

He sets the bouquet down, still smiling, but his gaze lands on a coin at the bottom of the largest vase.

For a second, his expression slips, long enough for me to catch something worried beneath the clowning.

"That's unusual," he says softly, picking up the coin and rolling it across his knuckles.

The movement is so smooth I almost miss the subtle click of his nails, sharp as a paper knife.

"Trash it?" I ask, feigning nonchalance.

"Keep it. It's ancient and may be worth something," he says. "If anyone asks after it, let me know."

There's a look in his eye I don't entirely recognize.

Caution, maybe.

Or a historian cataloging small but important details for later.

He leaves with a wink and a theatrical bow, his trademark tail flicking as he retreats down the hall.

I let out a sigh and start my morning rounds.

My day proceeds in spurts and lulls: water the plants, answer emails, herd the resident paperwork ghosts back into their proper cabinets.

The bouquets continue to radiate their weird energy.

By midday, almost every office in City Hall has come by for a peek.

I handle it with practiced cool, but the scrutiny gives me hives.

Just before lunch, Cassian stops by.

I'm not prepared for it.

He's in uniform today, which I can never decide if I like or hate, but he fills it out in a way that should be illegal in three states.

He takes one look at the flowers and arches a brow.

"Nice centerpiece," he says. "Are you building a garden or holding a funeral?"

"Could be both," I reply, then immediately wish I'd said something less morbid. "Someone left them for me. No card."

He sniffs the air and goes very still.

Something shifts in his expression.

"Who sent them?"

"No idea. None of the neighbors saw anything."

I hesitate, watching his eyes narrow at the bouquets.

He lifts one carefully and inspects the stems.