“—no longer working for SERC,” Beech finished.
Whew.
Still, Gwen had to wonder: Was the fae genuinely angry at her employee’s lapse? Or had she arranged that gap in monitoring herself in service to a terrible, terrifying conspiracy?
“Why didn’t you inform me about this supposed footage earlier, Beech?” Josiah Goodling’s question rang through the clearing, dripping with indignation. “I would have had my staff check the video for tampering, because no demon wouldever—”
“The footage is fake. Has to be.” Max sounded bored. “Even if it looks real.”
Beech rounded on him. “How could you possibly know that? You’ve been hiding away in your cave of misanthropic solitude for over two decades, Boucher, and you have no fucking clue about the interspecies dynamics currently at play.”
“Before his arrival”—Max indicated Hugh—“there was no identifiable brimstone scent at this breach site. No one turned inside out. No burns. And even common humans can purchase a fae glamour, Beech. With enough money, anyone can look like anything, as you well know. My lengthy absence from SERC’s utterly delightful politics hasn’t changed that.”
Unlike Hugh, Max clearly had no problem lying. While she might find that talent troubling in other contexts, right now Gwen loved him for it.
“Thank you,” Goodling said with emphasis. “I’m telling you, Beech, demons aren’t to blame here. We’re being framed.”
Hugh stood among the other Supernaturals, quiet and still, and observed his colleagues. Gwen doubted they even registered the intensity of his scrutiny.
“To my vast displeasure, I’m afraid I must agree with Goodling.” Max gave a delicate shudder, as if disgusted at himself. “The only unchanging marker of a perpetrator’s species is scent, and again, I didn’t smell demons here prior to Blacke’s heroics. Only the creatures themselves. Common humans too, of course. I assumed that scent came from the guards, but now I’m wondering—”
“Did common human activists glamour themselves as demons and free the zombies for a second time?” Apparently asking questions didn’t trigger Hugh’s discomfort the same way telling outright falsehoods did, because he interrupted Max with smooth confidence. “And if so, what was their end goal? Did they hope to provoke an interspecies war?”
“It’s a damn good thing I reached the site in time to gather the lingering scent spoor. Otherwise, we might have believed the false footage.” Max turned on his booted heel to face Tanielle Beech. “I imagine the guilty humans are long dead by now, overrun by the very zombies they freed. I can attempt to track them, though, if you’d like?”
“If your services are required, I’ll let you know.” Beech directed her attention to her left, a fierce scowl carving deep lines into her narrow face. “Blacke. Do you believe Boucher’s explanation of events?”
Apparently the SERC chair had, in fact, noticed Hugh’s intense watchfulness. Noticed and wanted to hear the demon’s evaluation of whatever he’d seen.
This time, Hugh didn’t hesitate or stumble. “Yes.”
“Not that you asked, but so do I.” Goodling bestowed a fulminating glare on the SERC chair. “Humans, not demons, are to blame for this catastrophe. After Hugh and his companions have departed, you and I need to talk, Beech.”
“Fine.” Beech irritably waved that off. “Boucher, the Supernatural and Enhanced Ruling Council would like to thank you and everyone else who bravely battled the zombie horde. We’ll be contacting you shortly for a list of their names so we can take their official statements. In the meantime, however, I’m asking you and your compatriots to vacate the area. Immediately.”
“Very well.” Max raised his voice, directing it somewhere behind Gwen. “Lorrie my sweet, we need to go. Finish up your cherries jubilee. Kip, you’ll have to seduce Councilor Wongel via French desserts some other time. Pack up your skillet, mon frère.” He caught Gwen’s eye. “Little oracle, our resident troll Casanova won’t listen to me. Please prevent him from initiating sexual congress before a platoon of intrigued soldiers.”
By the time she managed to wrestle Kip and Councilor Wongel apart, Hugh was deep in conversation with Goodling. She didn’t want to interrupt, but the SERC chair had very firmly ordered them to leave as soon as possible, so she inched closer. Only to stop short when she overheard the very personal nature of the demons’ discussion.
“—shocked to see you caught up in an incident like this.” Goodling raked an agitated hand through his hair once more. “Are you okay, son?”
“I am, but the events of the last several days have understandably distressed my…” Hugh cleared his throat. “My lovelygirlfriend. I’ll need to take a temporary leave of absence from my SERC duties to care for her. Hopefully no more than a week, but I can’t swear to that.”
The final length of that absence would no doubt depend on how his investigation into the human-fae conspiracy proceeded. In the meantime, she could definitely exude debilitating anxiety and exhaustion.
Goodling’s silver brows rose. “An entire week during such a fraught moment? Doesn’t she have other resources she could employ for her comfort in your absence?”
In other words: She should suck it up while Hugh focused on more important things than her mental health.
“As Gwen’s partner, it’s both my privilege and my heartfelt desire to be her primary support in times of need.” The words were formal yet shockingly romantic, their tone bland yet immovable. “I’ll virtually attend any urgent update meetings. Otherwise, however, I’ll be unavailable. I’ll submit the appropriate paperwork shortly.”
The elder demon took a moment to process that flower-festooned stone wall of a response before speaking again. “I’m also surprised—and pleased, of course—to see you with someone again. It’s been a long time.”
Gwen’s ears perked, since she hadn’t heard any gossip about Hugh’s love life over the last two decades. He seemed like someone who’d keep his private life just that.Private.
“I am, however, startled to discover the object of your affections,” Goodling continued, after several awkward moments of silence. “A failed oracle? Truly? Hugh, please think of your family and your own future. We both know you could do much b—”
Gwen barely had time to cringe in red-cheeked mortification before Hugh cut him off.
