Bound by Magic (The Baine Chronicles, #2)

Lakin and I spent the next half hour going through Roanas’s missing persons files, cross-referencing them with Sillara’s list. We crossed off every person who was a known member of the Resistance, and unsurprisingly, the majority of the names we were left with matched up with Sillara’s list.

“I wonder how she compiled this list,” Lakin murmured, staring down at the two sheets of paper, which he’d laid out side by side on the coffee table. “I see how she got Tylin’s name, but her notes on the others are sparse. It’s almost as if they’ve gone missing.”

I frowned. “If someone went to the trouble of taking the notes, why wouldn’t they just take the entire file? Seems like extra work to me.”

Lakin shrugged. “I’ve worked on cases where I felt it necessary to keep the most important notes in a separate file at home, away from my office, where my deputies and others couldn’t access them. It’s possible Sillara did the same.”

I nodded – that made sense. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d taken work home with me. “So that means either the separate file is still at her home somewhere, or it’s been destroyed.”

“Sillara’s partner said there were no work-related papers at their place. I’ll have to question her again to see if there was any sign of a break-in recently.” Lakin braced his hands on his knees, then pushed himself to his feet. “In the meantime, though, I’d like to go ahead and interview the families and friends of the shifters on this list. Perhaps something new will come to light.”

“I’ll come with you.” I rose to my feet as well, eager to continue tugging on this thread.

Lakin hesitated. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I think the interviews would go easier if you didn’t come along. The residents of Shiftertown … well, they’re not sure how to feel about you just yet.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then closed it again. Lakin was probably right. The shifter community wasn’t friendly towards mages to begin with, and on top of that I was a reject of the Jaguar Clan. Nobody around here was going to be welcoming me with open arms.

“That’s alright,” I said casually, as if Lakin’s rebuff didn’t bother me. “I’ve got to get back to the Palace anyway.”

A look of chagrin shadowed Lakin’s eyes. “Sunaya –”

“No, seriously, it’s fine.” I held up a hand, not wanting his pity, and flashed him a grin. “You’ll let me know if you dig up anything interesting, right?”

“Of course.” Lakin’s face relaxed into a smile, clearly deciding to let it go. “I really appreciate your help today,” he said as he walked me out.

“Anytime.” I looked over my shoulder as he held the door open for me and winked. “Just make sure you have something for us to sit on the next time I come over.”

I turned away, then trotted down to the sidewalk where my steambike waited for me. As I looked around at the rows of houses lining the street, the realization struck me that I was out of touch with the shifter community. Ever since I’d moved out of Roanas’s house and taken up residence in Rowanville to be closer to the Enforcer’s Guild, I’d stopped coming to Shiftertown except on business, and as a result I didn’t really know what was going on. When I was under Roanas’s care, I’d often tagged along with him on errands, and aside from the Jaguar Clan the rest of the community had tolerated me just fine. There were a few grandmothers who gave me tea and cookies, and I’d had both shifter and human friends at school – one of the few civic programs Canalo did fund for everyone in the state. But I hadn’t seen any of those people in a few years. By Magorah, for all I knew those grannies could have passed away by now.

So instead of heading down the hill and back towards Solantha Palace, I drove in the opposite direction, heading toward the Cat’s Meow, a popular diner run by the Tiger Clan. It stood proudly near the center of Shiftertown, sandwiched between a welder’s shop and a florist, the storefront wall painted a dark orange with black stripes running across diagonally. My lips twitched at the outrageous paint job – that was one thing that hadn’t changed.

Rather than parking my bike in front of the diner, I went around the block, then ducked into an alley. Closing my eyes, I mumbled the Words to the illusion spell Iannis had taught me, envisioning myself as a tigress shifter with short blonde hair wearing a pair of jeans and a conservative sweater. If I went in there as myself no one would talk to me, but I also didn’t want to look too attractive and draw attention I didn’t want. I made sure to add an extra layer of illusion to mask my scent before I sauntered around the block and into the bar.