Then his amusement softened.
‘You are going to be brilliant, firefly.’
My throat tightened.
Damn him.
Damn him and his stupid faith in me.
I took one deep breath.
Then another.
The case was not supposed to be complicated.
Not in the way I had expected supernatural law to be complicated.
There were no ancient curses involved.
No contested mating bond.
No bloodline rights attached to a throne.
No witch claiming someone had stolen a ritual object that was legally classified as both property and a sentient witness, which, yes, had apparently happened twice in the last decade and I still wanted to read the transcripts.
This was custody.
Two pups.
Two little boys.
Their parents had died in a car crash six weeks ago, and the world, being the cruel, inefficient bastard it was, had
