“The four department heads met in a lab protected behind a magic barrier,” I said, surprised that he hadn’t decided to punish me right then and there. Maybe my information was more appealing than the thought of torturing me. “They don’t get along well from the sounds of their verbal warfare. I was just about to hear them spill all of one another’s dirty secrets when poisonous gas flooded the lab, and they ran away.”

“So, in other words, you risked exposing our investigation and disobeyed me, and you have nothing to show for it.”

“I didn’t disobey you,” I argued. “You never forbade me from going there.”

“You should have learned by now that pulling technicalities out of your ass won’t save you.”

Ripples of glee split across Captain Somerset’s face. She sure was having fun.

“And it wasn’t for nothing,” I added. “I have a copy of every inventory list and lab report where Sunset Pollen or Snapdragon Venom is mentioned.”

“Where is this copy?” he asked.

“Somewhere safe. If you ask nicely, I might even give it to you.” I smirked at him. Well, if I was going to get punished anyway, I might as well earn it.

He met my smirk with perfect calmness. “It’s in your underwear drawer.”

“My underwear drawer is none of your business,” I shot back, flushing. How on earth had he guessed that? I’d been blocking his mind-reading mojo. “Something weird is going on at that school.” When backed into a corner, the best strategy was to just change the subject. “You need to put a tail on all four of the coven leaders.”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” he replied coolly.

I glared back at him.

“Who let the blizzard in here?” Captain Somerset commented, shivering.

“You will hand over the records you procured last night,” Nero continued. “Bring them to Dr. Harding in her lab. She is testing the samples we took from the explosion in the restaurant yesterday. You and Fireswift will spend the morning assisting her and her team.”

I’d just finished my last round of exercises, so Jace and I left the gym hall. While he grabbed breakfast for us, I ran upstairs to get the memory stick. Then together we headed for Nerissa’s lab.

Five hours later, we knew the bomb that tried to blow us to pieces yesterday had been made from components exclusive to the research division of the university’s Steam department. I couldn’t bring myself to be surprised. The question now wasn’t whether the witches were behind all of this; it was which of the witches were behind it. How many of their dirty little projects were about to go off? I buried my head in my hands.

“You’re stressed,” Jace commented.

I looked up at him. “No, thinking for too long just makes my brain hurt.”

“I have the perfect remedy.”

“No time for Nectar now.”

“No, not Nectar. Lunch.”

“Good idea,” I agreed immediately. “I heard Demeter is serving lasagna today.”

“I’m talking about something much better than lasagna.” He stood up. “Come on.”

I looked around the dining area of the Dog House, restaurant by day, shifter party palace by night. The Dog House. I couldn’t decide if the shifters were trying to be funny with that name or not.

“You’re right. That was much better than lasagna,” I told Jace as I licked the ketchup from my fingers. A hamburger wrapper, all that remained of my lunch, lay on the counter. The pleasure of meeting that burger’s acquaintance had cost me twenty dollars, but it had been worth every cent. Shifters might have had testy temperaments, but they knew their meat.

“How could I not know this place existed?” I asked. “It’s practically next door.”

Jace chuckled. “Because you hardly ever venture out, Miss Work Ethic.”

“Says the guy who’s been training for the Legion his whole life.”

“Yeah, well…” He shrugged. “I have a destiny to live up to, you know. Enemies to smite, friends to backstab.”

I grabbed my milkshake and sucked in a slurp of chocolate heaven. “It doesn’t have to be that way. You could choose to be…”

His brows lifted. “Not a brat?”

“The sort of person you want to be,” I amended. “When you’re being yourself—not what you’ve been told to be—you’re not all that bad, you know.” I swiped a fry from his plate.

“You must like me if you’re stealing my fries.”

I dunked the fry into my shake. “Nah, I just like your fries.”

He snorted. “You’re not what people think you are.”

“Oh, so I’m not a snarky, fry-stealing, rule-breaking rebel?”

“Ok, there is that,” he said. “But you’re more. You’re nice. You don’t hate people.”

“Hating takes too much effort that could be spent on better things.”

“My parents hate you,” he told me.

“I don’t believe I have ever met your parents.”

“No, you haven’t. But it’s not really you they hate. It’s what you represent.”

“Anarchy?”

He snorted. “No, a threat to me. To my holy, preordained rise to ultimate power.”

“Well, if it’s really preordained, then I’m no threat to you, am I?” I pointed out. “And I’m no threat to you anyway.”