The diner was quiet. Not empty, but Caius could hear each of Elias’ claws tap on the ceramic mug in front of him. His caseworker had a deep scowl on his face, his jaw twitching as he ground his jaw.

  No one spoke for a while.

  Movement across the aisle from them drew Caius’ attention. A busboy tapped a rune on a tray, and the plates floated into a neat stack as he moved. Small things like that still messed with his head.

  ”Still not used to that stuff?” Milo asked as he slid into the booth next to Caius with a hiss of the vinyl. He looked better- still bruised, bandaged, and stiff, but at least he was alive. His wrists were a little raw from the manacles they had him in until last night.

  Elias sat across from them, his body stone still like his Earthly counterpart, only his fingers drumming on his mug. His eyes flicked between them, his gaze unreadable.

  “I want to start by saying that what happened wasn’t normal,” Elias said, voice low and heavy. “You had the worst possible introduction to this system. The ghoul. The blackout. The collar alarm. That’s not the job. That’s not how it usually goes.”

  Caius started to speak, but Elias raised a hand.

  ”The system isn’t perfect. I am sorry you have had to see the short end of a good stick several times since you arrived.”

  ”I just, I come from a place where there isn’t a lot of trust in the law enforcement. I don’t personally have memories of it, but my weird cultural memory tells me that the system I am coming from is rife with tension, corruption, and prejudice.” Caius sighs, and takes a sip from his coffee. “It really sucks to come to a whole new world and see some of the same stuff.”

  ”Mr. Beck is right, Cai.” Milo’s voice is soft, but certain. Caius turns to him with his eyebrows threatening to jump straight off his face.

  “How can you say that, Milo?” Caius asked, turning to him. “With everything you’ve been through? I don’t know the full story, but I know you weren’t as in the wrong as your punishment suggests. And the way they hauled you off without a word?”

  He slumped in his seat. “That wasn’t right.”

  “Cai, listen to me.”

  Milo turned, meeting Caius’s eyes.

  “What you saw was an unfortunate part of a very good system. A lot of Collared shifters relapse—go back to violence when it’s not necessary. I might be an exception, sure. But I did mess up, and what I did was illegal. This is my punishment. And I accept it.”

  Caius stewed in his seat, but he was loosening up a little.

  ”My family have been Pursuit Agents as long as the title has existed. Trust me when I say, ninety five percent of the time, the actions that Pursuit Agents take are justified. There is very good oversight for Pursuit Agents. Hells, that's most of Mr. Beck’s job, making sure Pursuit Agencies are standing by and for the people of Noctwyn.”

  ”Definitely.” Elias agrees. “I won’t say there are no bad arrests, no mistakes, no breakdowns in the system. But we work very hard to make sure they are few and far between. In fact, most of the best Pursuit Agents and agencies feel very strongly about doing right. The system is a living, breathing thing, and we are always looking to improve it.”

  Caius sat with this for a while. Maybe he was reacting too strongly. Yes, he had been on the wrong end. But what happened had been wrong, even Grendel had been pissed. But thinking back, while he was mad about Milo being taken away, he seemed more angry that the ghoul reaction was slower than the Collar alert.

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  “Alright. I accept what you guys are saying. I am still not happy about it though.”

  Elias raised his hands, chuckling.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to be. I'm still mad, myself.”

  The conversation meandered away from the tension, going over everything the roommates had done that week. Elias reacted happily at their night with Zara, loving that Caius was getting to know people. Caius’ anger simmered down, settling lower than it had been. Elias was a good guy who wanted good things for him.

  Their food came, forcing a break in their conversation. God it was delicious. His eggs were pink, and the fruit selection was bizarre, but it still felt comforting to Caius. Something tickled at the edge of his brain, the smell of the coffee and eggs pulling…something. But it was gone just as quickly as it came and Caius shrugged it off.

  “Okay, I did have one proposition for you Caius.” Elias wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his empty plate away from him. “I was a little hesitant with how strongly you were reacting to the Pursuit Agent thing earlier, but I do still think this is a good idea.”

  Caius paused, his coffee halfway to his mouth.

  “Okayyy, now I’m curious. Spill.”

  Elias shuffled a little and cleared his throat before leaning forward and clasping his hands on the table.

  “As you know, I oversee Pursuit Agencies and handle licensing,” Elias began. “One of my oldest friends started her own agency a while back. Policy says PAs can’t operate solo—it weakens oversight.” He took a breath. “The person she started it with left. Badly. She’s been flying solo ever since. I’ve let it slide for a while, but I can’t anymore. If she doesn’t find a partner soon, I’ll have to pull her license. And I don’t want to do that. It’s one of the only things she still cares about.”

  Caius could see where this was going, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it.

  ”Let's get to the point, Beck.” He said. Elias winced slightly at his tone, but kept pushing.

  ”I would like to have you join her as a probationary PA. She does good work, and you would learn a lot of valuable things. Moreover, you would be part of the system, and do good work alongside her.”

  Caius chewed on the inside of his cheek, rolling the idea over in his brain. Milo could see his hesitation and took up the conversation.

  ”There aren’t that many small agencies like that, who is it?” he asked Elias.

  ”Her name is Isolde. You would probably know her by Blackthorn.”

  Milo leaned back into his seat, eyes wide. He turned to Caius, an excited smile building.

  “Cai, you have got to take this.”

  “Do you know her?” He was a little skeptical. Milo shook his head, but his smile was firm.

  ”No, but my dad does. They worked together a few times. He said she’s tough, but she’s fair. Smart. And scary when she needs to be. It’s the kind of apprenticeship most people would kill for.”

  “I'm still in my six month probation though,” Caius reasoned, “No way would they trust me to be a Pursuit Agent.”

  “Actually,” Elias cut in, “That’s what makes it work,” Elias said. “You’ll be under direct supervision. If you mess up, it’s on her record. But if you don’t… it’ll earn you a hell of a lot of goodwill.”

  His fingers tapped a slow beat on his knee, weighing the pros and cons of the proposition.

  “What would I be doing?”

  “Well, probably doing some grunt work, paperwork and such. But you would also be expected to go out with Isolde on investigations and arrests. You would be watching each other’s backs.”

  “And she’s okay with that?” Caius asked, voice flat. “Because it sounds like she wouldn’t be.”

  Elias hesitated. “She’s… reluctant. But she agreed.”

  Caius looked at Milo. Then back to Elias. “You both think this is a good idea?”

  “I do,” Milo said.

  “I do too,” Elias echoed.

  “Alright,” Caius said. “Then I’m in.”

  The door from the alley leading into Blackthorn Pursuit slams open, Isolde leading with her shoulder. Blood drips from several open wounds, slashes and puncture marks peppering her arms and torso.

  She stumbles through the back room, dropping her knives and their sheathes onto her desk as she approaches the small closet set into the wall. A weak mana light comes on, bathing her supplies in a green glow. She winces as she raises her arms, grabbing bandages, a healing patch, and a bottle of booze. Kicking the closet shut behind her, she collapses into her chair, eternally comfortable in this seat that had molded itself to her.

  Slapping the patch onto a particularly deep wound in her gut, a sigh escapes her as the magic does it work. A swig of the bottle later, she begins to bandage her arms, the wounds not nearly extreme enough to warrant a patch. Not that she had any left, her supplies sitting dangerously low. Healing patches ran a little more expensive than she could afford easily.

  An alert sounds from her desk tab, a message coming through as she finishes her first aid.

  [From: E. Beck

  Subject: Probation Assignment - Caius Ward

  Start: Tomorrow]

  Isolde stared at the screen. Then leaned back with a sigh, bottle in hand.

  “Fantastic,” she muttered, deadpan. “Babysitting.”