institution. Whatever the reason, she believed in its purpose: to serve. To protect the mundane world from magical excess. Everything had to have limits.
Except love.
She hadn’t understood that before Steve. She didn’t fully understand it now. She only knew that where common sense told her to run from the crazy snarl of the were world, one that could never be hers because she could never be were, she wouldn’t run. She wanted Steve no matter what complications he came with.
That had been how he’d wooed her. He hadn’t allowed any obstacles between them.
The automatic doors of the building swooshed open at her approach. She smiled as she entered. Last time she’d been here, she’d entered with Steve. Without magic, he’d insisted on accompanying her into the heart of magic users to confront a powerful demon. He’d fought, too. With courage and skill and trust in her, rather than with magic. His lack of magic hadn’t made him lesser, even as her lack of were-nature didn’t make her an impossible choice as the Suzerain’s mate.
The receptionist at the Collegium’s foyer desk recognized Fay. It was there in the hyper-stillness of his body and frozen stare. Then he blinked and looked away.
She could read his chagrin at that instinctive flinch.
He brought his gaze back to her, watching her approach.
The foyer held two small groups of people chatting. The quartet standing in the back corner were guardians. Alert and serious, they’d identified Fay as swiftly as she’d noted them. She returned their flat stares. They were no longer colleagues and had never been friends. The other group were five expensively-suited types. The Collegium passed in the ordinary world as a think-tank on international affairs. Evidently that was what was happening in the second group, composed of one magic user and four mundanes.
“I’m here to see the President,” Fay said to the receptionist.
She’d used the phrase so often. Her dad had generally wanted her to report directly after a mission. It was odd to use the phrase and mean Lewis.
“Is President Bennett expecting you, Ms. Olwen?”
“Fay, Tomas,” she gently corrected the receptionist. “You know me.”
Two of the guardians split off from the group and approached her. The other two stayed at a prudent distance.
She could still take them all out. Not without a show in front of the four mundanes, though. “Phone and ask him,” she advised Tomas.
He reached for the phone.
She turned, positioning to keep him and the guardians in view. The hostility to her wasn’t new, even if it had acquired an edge.
“Fay, what are you doing here?” The confident greeting came from the Collegium’s new Chair of Demonology, Gilda Ursu. She was a short, strong woman with graying hair and blue eyes almost hidden beneath drooping lids. She managed a good glare at the lurking guardians, though. Three more had appeared. “Are you here to see me?”
Tomas was murmuring into the phone.
“To see Lewis,” Fay said.
“Come on up.” Gilda waved an arm in invitation, heading for the row of elevators. She turned her back on the guardians in a move as rude as a one-fingered gesture. Evidently the different factions within the Collegium were at war.
Lucky Lewis.
Fay glanced at Tomas, who nodded unwillingly as he replaced the phone. She was free to go up.
Gilda punched the buttons for the top floor Presidential Suite and for her own Demonology Department. She stood in the elevator and watched the numbers light up in ascending order. “You could work for us as a consultant.”
As far as Fay was concerned, the offer came from nowhere. She hadn’t thought she had a place within the Collegium or even attached to it. “Us, as in the Collegium, or us, as in the demonologists?”
“Either. Both.” The elevator stopped at the Demonology floor. “Think on it, Fay. Everyone needs allies.”
The doors closed, leaving Fay alone.
Allies. She had Steve, her mom and stepfather,