Michele Hauf - Beyond the Moon

As soon as he had left the office, she lifted the top of the box. Inside nestled colorful jewels that smelled like heaven. If a witch were to believe in heaven, Verity felt sure her ethereal diet would consist entirely of macarons (and the occasional cup of hot chocolate from Angelina). She strolled her fingers over the soft yet crisp pastries and landed on a deep golden jewel that she then drew out and bit into.

“Mmm, chocolate yuzu. I love that sneaky knight.”

She smirked at how easily it had been for the man to win her over. So he’d won this round. She wasn’t at all ashamed of the loss. And really, it wasn’t an official loss considering she’d decided to help him before the bribe had been revealed.

Focusing on the faces before her, she clicked rapidly through the first half a dozen or so because they all had hair, but then she stopped herself.

“He could have shaved his head recently. Better look at them all,” she cautioned.

Again, her gaze swerved to the macaron box. Such a distraction would prove this a most challenging task.

* * *

Smiling to himself at the forethought to purchase the macarons, Rook strode through the locker room and checked in the gym to see if any knights were using the facilities. Most days the headquarters was quiet, and without any current trainees, he usually had the place to himself.

“Kasper,” he said to the man who sat on the weight bench. Clad in sweatpants, his formidable biceps shone with sweat. “How’d it go with the Magic Dust situation?”

Recently vampires had discovered a new drug. Although faery dust was a vamp’s favorite drug, the past few months Paris had been hit with a much crueler version of the stuff that drove vamps insane. And to feed their cravings, they went in search of anything that sparkled. That had resulted in innocent humans getting their necks ripped out as the vampire clawed for the diamond necklace they wore. Even rhinestones had attracted them. Nasty stuff.

“We’ve seen the last of Magic Dust,” the hunter said, standing and grabbing a T-shirt to pull on. “I can promise that.”

“Excellent.”

Kaspar Rothstein was one of Rook’s best knights, and he had recently hooked up with a pretty little witch who made her home on the edge of FaeryTown. Kaz had been recruited into the Order when he was seventeen, the youngest knight to take vows. Tor had found him.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d take some time to update the database with the information you gleaned regarding the sidhe while on the investigation,” Rook said. “You had a few close calls with the Sidhe Cortege, yes?”

Kaz rubbed a hand over a hip where Rook suspected one of those close calls had landed. “Oh yeah. But Zoë fixed it up for me. She’s an amazing healer. You know, the Order should consider having a healer on staff.”

It was a good idea, and Rook was surprised he’d not considered it over the centuries. Probably because he had a way of healing that was more appealing than being tended to by a physician or healer.

“I’ll take that under consideration. I’m conducting a private investigation in my office. Keep your distance, will you?”

He left the knight nodding and probably wondering at that statement. Rook knew he had an abrupt manner, but it was a powerful tool for a trainer and for a man who had centuries of secrets to keep under wraps. He’d learned that less talk and more action was the optimal way to teach, learn and guide. Because he wasn’t much for small talk, the method suited him well.

In the lounge where a full kitchen was kept stocked, he brewed fresh espresso, found some cream in the fridge, then wandered back to his office.

He found Verity gazing at a sketch on the screen. The box of macarons was open to reveal three missing treats. Good girl. Rook walked up behind her and recognized the face on the monitor.

“That’s Johnny Santiago,” he said. “It wasn’t him.”

“I know. He’s too pretty to be the creep that bit me. Thanks,” she said, taking the cup from him and sipping. He’d poured in a lot of cream after noticing her wince in the car. He liked his brew tough. “I’ve seen him before, though.”

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