Rowan let out a delighted laugh. He sent out a touch of bright green magic as he examined the flytrap. “Red Dragon,” he murmured. “But not quite. Something else.”
“Gelsemium,” Ben said as he entered holding a spray bottle and the bag of worms Evie had given us.
Rowan snapped his fingers. “That’s it! How in the world did she do that without changing its physical properties?”
Ben shrugged. “She did change them, technically.” He crouched and pointed at the flytraps’ teeth. “If you look closely, you can see the poison dripping there.”
Rowan chuckled. “She is a danger, then.” He turned and looked at me. “Tell me how you came to be in possession of this genetically spliced delight?”
Ben grinned and pulled up a chair.
“She sent it as a message, along with a check to repay me.”
Rowan tilted his head in curiosity. “Repay you for what?”
I clenched my jaw. Ben let out a guffaw but covered his mouth and pretended to cough when my eyes started glowing. “I destroyed a good portion of her shop and took it upon myself to...repair the damages.”
Rowan’s eyes went wide. “May I ask why you damaged her shop?” His mouth fell open as he made a realization. “No. No fucking way. Evie was the one responsible for those automatons, wasn’t she?” A dark chuckle escaped him. “Those were the talk ofthe council. I thought for sure the florist you hired had a mage’s help with those.”
“She was taunting me,” I growled.
“Hmm. And what did you do to make her respond like that?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms.
I blew out a breath and sat down. “Victim blaming is beneath you, Rowan.”
Ben snorted and fished in the bag for a handful of worms. Seymour perked right up and opened his mouth like a dutiful puppy. At the first toss, Seymour grew four inches in height to snap the worm from the air.
Rowan swore and scooted his chair back.
“He acted like every Shifter Lord,” Ben mused. “Like he owned Evie and the entire town, and he strong armed her into working for him when she didn’t want to.”
Rowan clicked his tongue. “She’s a brave girl to stand up to you.”
“She’s a damn fool,” I snapped. “Look where we are now.”
The other Lord rubbed his jaw, his face thoughtful. “Do you think she’s responsible for the rogue magic?”
“No. I’m having her monitored.”
“Ah,” said Rowan. “And how do you imagine Miss Evie might respond once she realizes you’ve added stalking to your list of crimes against her?”
“Goddammit, Rowan. I’m trying to help her.” Frustration rose inside me. Seymour sank back down to his regular height and tilted his head. The damn thing was looking at me. I knew it. Even without eyes, I knew I had fallen under its scrutiny.
“A Shifter Lord’s help always comes with strings attached, Caelan.” He shook his head. “You old fool. You pissed her off, and she responded, only to come under the scrutiny of the Council. Now you’ve probably screwed her worse than if you’d killed her.”
“I would never harm her,” I swore savagely.
I realized my mistake when the room fell silent. Rowan’s look was contemplative. Ben’s was concerned.
“Ah,” Rowan breathed. “My friend, you’ve gotten yourself into quite the pickle, haven’t you?”
But Ben, one of my oldest friends, sat back in his chair and studied me, an unreadable expression on his face. “You and I go way back, Caelan,” he said before rising and closing the bag of worms, setting it on the windowsill. Seymour reached for the shifter and rubbed the top of its trap against Ben’s forearm. The healer chuckled and gently scratched Seymour before returning his attention to me. “I always respected your choices and deferred to your authority, but we may be at an impasse when it comes to the Floromancer.”
Rowan’s brow furrowed.
“Oh?” Power prickled against my skin. I suspected where this was going, and I was hit with both grief and rage and an insane amount of jealousy all at the same time. “Why do you say that?”
“Because,” Ben said as he walked to the door, “if the Council goes after her, you will stand against me.”
