Chapter Eighteen

Archer

It was easy to say I’d quit. Easy to tell my friend that I was interested in going to work for the nonprofit he had told me about. A lot of guilt lay on my chest when I thought of all the times I had believed whatever I was told about clients. I didn’t think there were any other serial killers in the mix, but I did know that our cases were chosen based on ability to pay our high rates with very few pro bonos to thin it out. Things seemed to have simmered down with the law enforcement situation, and from what the news—and my assistant, who was still assigned to me and went to the office every day—said, two of the senior partners had suddenly retired to the Caribbean. I was sensing a theme here.

I vowed I’d never again do work solely for money again. Not that I could work for free, of course, because I had an omega and an alpha, for that matter, who I always wanted to be able to care for. But as I’d told them, there would be a big drop in pay. A nonprofit didn’t have the budget to pay even the associate rate at a big law firm.

After the way I lived my life before, it was such a change. I should be really upset not to make that partnership, to walk away from the chance to make big money, and yet… And yet I didn’t feel that way in the slightest. The salary Out of Jeopardy offered me would be adequate for the lifestyle I planned to live and even offer a little extra to build our savings.

Setting up the coffeepot for my mates, I hoped I’d made the right choice. No, I knew I had, but after getting so badly burned at the firm, my trust level wasn’t great. Craig, my former classmate, swore they were everything they claimed to be, making it their mission to get shifters wrongfully accused either through a trial to a not guilty verdict or appealed out of jail—without “outing” them as paranormal. While many people did know about us, many others either did not or chose to pretend they didn’t. Or, worse, didn’t see us as real people, and that was how many of the shifters Out of Jeopardy represented ended up unjustly accused.

It would be a noble job, or at least an honorable one, and maybe help me make up for the fact I was so accepting of everything I’d been told about a client whose body count was still rising as the police and other agencies linked his DNA to cold cases. Gods, what a jerk. I’d only met him a few times and hadn’t had any idea what he was capable of. My wolf had not liked him, but since the beast didn’t like anything about the firm or my work there, I just attributed it to his not getting enough running time lately.

“You made the coffee.” Heath came into the kitchen rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Does it smell right to you?”

“Yes, I think so.” I sniffed the pot. “Just bought the beans yesterday and ground this morning.”

“Must be my toothpaste. Sometimes it makes things taste funny.” He popped some bread in the toaster and yawned. “What are you up to today?”

“I’ve got to quit my old job and sign the contract with my new one.” It hadn’t been a sure thing they’d even want me, with my former association. It wasn’t common knowledge that I’d worked on the serial killer case, but I’d come clean and told them all about it. They didn’t seem too concerned and one of the interviewers even said, “We’re aware of the details of that situation and of your lack of fault.”

They did a heck of a background check.

“Want some eggs, Heath?” I pulled the carton out of the refrigerator. “Maybe scrambled with cheese?”

“I think just toast.” He got out a jar of jam and a stick of butter. “Not too hungry.”

I put the eggs back and reached for the cream. “Me too, I think. I’m a little nervous about today.”

Oren came in then and poured a cup of coffee for all three of us. “What are we talking about?”

“Archer’s online appointments today.”

“Oh, that’s right.” He took a seat at the table and a sip of his coffee. “So good, mate.”

I arched a brow at Heath who tasted his too. “It’s good. I probably just wasn’t awake yet.” He took his toast and set it on a plate then added two more slices to the toaster. “Everyone want some?”

“Sure.” Oren took another sip. “Did you tell our mate the news, Heath?”

“I waited for you.”

Oren grinned. “Why don’t we show him now then come back and eat breakfast. We are having eggs or something?”

“We were but—” Heath began.

“We decided we weren’t that hungry,” I finished for him. “My stomach is a little nervous with everything I have going today.”

“Oh, okay.” Oren stood up and held out his hand for mine. “Then we can have brunch after your meetings. Sound reasonable?”

“Sounds perfect.” My alpha mate’s fingers closed around mine. “So, where are we going?”

“Just to your office.” Heath sashayed past us and through the living room. “Of course.”

“What?” I looked from one of them to the other. “When did I get an office?”

“Well, it’s more like a cubicle…you’ll see.” Oren released my hand and stepped behind me, placing his palms over my eyes. “Step forward, forward, forward.” He guided me across the living room and then off to the left.

Our home was not large, and I had no idea where I might have an office until Heath shouted, “One, two, three!” and Oren uncovered my eyes. A cubicle indeed, with screens set up to give me privacy and a desk they must have found on the side of the road. It was old, battered, and loved. My laptop sat on it. I had a chair and a light…and two mates who loved me so much, I was no longer nervous about calling the assholes who’d kept me out of the loop and thought nothing of letting a killer run free.

“Gentlemen, I need to go to the office. I have calls to make.”

I waited for their cheers to die down before pulling my phone out of my pocket.