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next day, but if they buy the ticket themselves, the numbers change, like reality is rebelling against their influence. One is just a normal guy working an office job that gets hit with moments of divine inspiration, but only as they pertain to sporting events,” she shrugged. “If Cam was a seer, I should be able to see the magic in him,” she reached toward me, but pulled up short.

“The best way I can describe it is the aftertaste analogy,” she was irritated, and it was clear she wasn’t used to feeling that way. “If it is precognition, it only appears to be short-sighted. If it happened in your dueling, he can look a second, maybe two, into the future. Without more testing I can’t be sure.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but it didn’t take a seer to know what was coming next.

“Do you mind if I conduct a proper experiment?” she asked. “What I’ve seen is unprecedented and intriguing. It would make a great senior thesis. Of course, to maintain your anonymity, I won’t use your actual name, and will limit the information divulged only as it pertains to my hypothesis.”

My instinct was to say fuck no, but then I stopped to really think about it. Having an Anima mage in your corner was priceless, and if I could somehow use that to my advantage with my Aveena problem, it might be worth it.

Just like Amanda, I didn’t do anything for free. “A thousand dollars every time you look into my head,” I negotiated, “and if you find anything you do know about, I want you to help me understand.”

I might look cool and collected on the outside, but I was freaking the fuck out. I felt like I had a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. For the last four years, I’d been surrounded by the extraordinary. I’d always been the poor townie. Now, I might be something more. If I was more than just a weak ass human, I needed someone to help me, and the Anima mage was probably the only one who could decipher what the hell was going on.

“Plus, there’s gonna be the whole issue with the WRA,” my thought elicited a knowing smile from the mage. The organization I wanted to work for a couple months ago would now have reason to prosecute me for not divulging whatever I really was.

It wasn’t my fault, but the government was notorious for not giving a shit.

“Deal,” the mage heard my whole internal conversation. “In the meantime, keep an eye out for anything else out of the ordinary. If you start seeing auras around people come and see me quickly before it drives you crazy.”

“Shit,” I gulped and rubbed my eyes at the strangeness that was becoming my new normal.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Amanda’s voice whispered in my head, and didn’t help the panic attack I was trying to push down.

That was too much for one day, and I got the fuck out of there.

Chapter 24

Convalescent leave was not something Vernon was used to. He’d only been injured on duty once to the point his shifter abilities didn’t heal him in a few hours. That had been when he’d burned out, and after that, the UN made him take a vacation. Burn out sucked, but it was a flip of the coin if it was better than taking a silverbane bullet.

The medics on the roof stabilized him, and the Seattle hospital spent several hours getting the bullet and its fragments out of his body. A mage literally pulled the silver out of his blood, and it was not an experience he wanted to undergo again anytime soon. His lower leg was slow to heal after that. The silverbane sitting in his body for so long had caused gangrene and some of his flesh to rot. He had a UN jet fly him back to NYC because the smell coming off him was nasty, and he would have been kicked off a commercial flight.

Gradually, his healing kicked in and repaired the damage. It took a few days, but he was just about one hundred percent. That didn’t stop the Director mandating he take a week off. They had other agents to handle the caseload. Halloween had already passed, so the crap that mages pulled around that time of the year was over and dealt with. It was a relatively quiet time in their deployment cycle between the end of October and mid-December.

The leave coincided with Thanksgiving, but the last thing he wanted to do was go home. The nicest thing his old pack would call him was a traitor. They detested the WRA, the Response Division, and while the alpha had let him go six years ago, he wouldn’t be kind if Vernon showed back up in his territory. The last thing Vernon wanted to do was pick another fight.

As he thought about it, there was only one place he really wanted to be; but want was a subjective thing. “You shouldn’t be here,” he chided himself as his rental slid a few feet as he stepped on the brake in two inches of unplowed snow.

Professionally, he could get in some trouble. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near Cameron Dupree or St. Vincent’s Academy. It could lead to a harassment lawsuit and jeopardize the case they were building. Technically, he was at a home several miles from the town and school, but he didn’t think the Director would buy the excuse.

“You should have at least called,” he continued the mental ass chewing.

He noticed Becky’s Sheriff Jeep in the driveway, but there was another truck parked behind it. He didn’t want to interrupt some gathering the other shifter was hosting, but he also didn’t want to leave.

“Man up. Give it five minutes,” he told himself.

Five minutes turned into ten before

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