Chapter 8

The next morning Quinn awoke to a perfect cloudless June day—precious to anybody who lives in Seattle. He put on a pair of shorts and t-shirt with a 8404 Devil Doc on it and slipped on his favorite New Balance running shoes, jumped in his pickup and drove to the Arboretum.

He usually ran from his duplex in Ballard, but the morning was so perfect he decided it was an Arboretum day. He got his truck parked and set off down Azalea Way, his ear-buds blasting the first of his running tunes: Radar Love.

Quinn loved old-time rock-and-roll.

A mile later he thought it was going to be a good run until he came out of the shadow of the tree-lined lane and onto a sunlit wildflower meadow. Four college age guys were tossing a frisbee around, showing off for the gorgeous blue-eyed, golden-haired woman who was stretching in the shade.

Fucking Niamh Harpe. The blessings keep piling up.

“What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? I have been waiting for you,”

She got to her feet and started stretching her quads. Two of the college kids ran into each other trying to catch and watch at the same time.

Quinn took a breath trying for patience and asked again.

“Nim, what do you want?”

“I told you. By the way, I followed you from your house. You are criminally careless. You have two witches shadowing you and you blunder along like a man with no enemies.”

“No surprise there. I have no enemies. I’m a fucking regular guy. And I know about the girls. They aren’t bothering me, so I don’t bother them.”

She finished her stretching.

“Let’s run. We can talk along the way.”

They ran in companionable silence. Quinn bitching in the back of his mind because the day had been perfect until fucking Niamh Harpe came out of nowhere to ruin it. He finally spoke up, trying his best to keep the irritation out of his tone.

“What does the Shifter Council would want with me? As far as I know, I have broken none of your laws. So why send you to hassle me.”

She gave him an amused glance that said she could read the irritation he was trying to hide and didn’t give a damn whether he hid it or let it loose.

“My bosses have heard that the Covens have requested your presence in Emory.”

“Demanded more like. They cast a Summoning and sent Charming to deliver their demands.”

“Charming,” Niamh’s nose wrinkled, “if ever there was a woman misnamed, it has to be her.”

“Don’t change the subject. Keep talking.”

“Rumor has it that the witches have had Cayden MacLeish declared dead and your name has popped up as a replacement for him.”

Quinn laughed, “Never going to happen. Can you imagine me as Keeper? You know what the witches are like. They don’t like me and I hate being around them. Except for a few crafters, they consider me the mundane trash that the old man neglected to put out on the curb for the garbage man. Now that I think on it, your Council thinks the same way. Your grandfather always looked at me like I was something he stepped in. As far as I’m concerned, the both of you magic-fucked crazy people can fight your own battles. I’m going fishing in Montana.”

“Poor Lachlan.” Niamh mocked. “You and I both know you are something more than a random mundane that the old man took in on a whim. Up till now you have gotten away with it. But now the Covens have taken an interest in you. That has made my bosses curious about you. They hate being in the dark. They want to know if you are going to be the wild card in all the chaos that has been unfolding.”

“So they picked you to come calling. That’s pretty interesting, don’t you think? Your grandfather still have his fat fingers around the Council’s throat?”

“Yes. But I do not work for him. Anyway, my boss wants me to keep an eye on you, so that is exactly what I am going to do. By the way, when you go back to Emory—and you will have to despite your big talk, watch yourself. With your attitude, Mr. Regular Guy, those bitches are going to eat you alive.”

With that, she turned and ran back the way they’d come.

Quinn watched her go. He suddenly remembered the rumors that Niamh had another job besides being a detective. She was the one the Council called on to sanction those people the Council didn’t like.

More complications. The hits just keep on coming.

(Many thanks to Mr. Wolf for lending his invaluable editorial skills to make this readable).