Standing, I followed Justin out into the hall, shivering as goosebumps rose up on my arms. I had grown somewhat accustomed to the sweltering interrogation room, and though the heat was on, the rest of the floor felt downright cold by comparison. My mind was reeling as we walked back past the open office area. Everything had happened so fast, like a hit and run, that I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I was glad that I had a deal, ecstatic even, but I couldn't suppress the suspicions that came with it. Why?

Most of the desks were now occupied, and the general noise had increased to a dull roar. This time people did stare. Conversations dying down to hushed whispers as we passed. Justin didn't seem to mind or even notice, but I felt like I was on display. I had never liked being the center of attention, even under the best of circumstances. Clutching my arms to my stomach, I kept my eyes on Justin's back and tried to ignore the tingling between my shoulders.

He led me into an office, and I let out a heavy sigh as the door closed behind us, the opaque glass providing some protection from the scrutiny. My purse, coat, and duffel bag were waiting on the desk. Someone had gotten a chance to practice their tracking skills. I'd left my coat and bag in the car and hadn't told anyone where I'd parked.

A tall blonde in a tailored dark blue suit and rose-colored blouse was standing next to the desk thumbing through a file. She looked up as we entered, her large blue eyes watching us from beneath a set of razor-straight bangs. The rest of her hair was cut in a short bob, and a pair of two-inch heels brought her within an inch of six feet.

"This is my partner Emily," Justin introduced, before walking over to the desk.

"Agent Maher." She stepped forward, offering a pale, slender hand. "I'll be your main point of contact going forward."

Her palm was as cold as the eyes that studied me. I could practically feel them sliding across my skin, inspecting me, judging me. A small disapproving smirk twitched at the corner of her pink glossed lips. When her eyes came back to mine, I found myself wanting to look anywhere else.

"Nice to meet you," I stammered, releasing her hand, my eyes dropping to the floor as I stepped back.

If Justin noticed the sudden chill in the room, he gave no sign as he passed me my purse and coat before throwing my duffle bag over his shoulder.

"What's going to happen to me now?" I asked tentatively.

We didn't have much of a foster system. Though we weren't immune to disease, our awen, and skilled healers meant that death by any means other than accident or old age was practically unheard of. In the rare cases where a child was removed from the parents for their own protection, there was usually no shortage of next of kin. Families tended to stay together, and there was almost always someone around to take them in. I had no one.

"For safety reasons, you're going to be staying with a retired agent," Justin said, heading back towards the door. "Maggie used to run this unit before Grimes took over, you'll be safe with her," he continued, giving me a reassuring smile as he opened the door.

"Before we leave, I'm going to need you to pull up your sleeve," Agent Maher said before I could take more than a couple of steps. Justin gave her a questioning look but didn't say anything.

"What for?" I already didn't care for her, and I had a strong suspicion that she was going to make the full cooperation clause of my deal as difficult as possible.

"I need to place a bonding ward." She said it so casually that I wasn't sure I heard her right at first.

"I'm sorry; what?" I asked, sure she couldn't have said what I thought she had.

"I need to put on a bonding ward," she repeated, her voice practically daring me to protest.

Though not technically illegal in themselves, bonding wards were frowned upon, to the point that they weren't even taught anymore. Originally part of wedding ceremonies, they came to be considered too intrusive; binding the two together through magic far more strongly than any vows could.

With a bonding ward, she would always know where I was. Not a pinpoint address but a general direction that she could follow no matter how much distance I tried to put between us. More concerning was that if she were any good at it, which I was sure she was, she would be able to sense my emotions and general state of mind. The longer the bond remained, the more of me she would have access to, even to the point of hearing my thoughts, though that level of connection took decades to achieve. With all that was going on, I wasn't comfortable having someone else that intimately involved.

She couldn't do it without my consent. That would be illegal. But at this point, could I say no?

"Is that necessary?" Justin asked, voicing the concern I was too scared to. "Won't a tracking ward suffice?"

"She's already getting to walk out of here like she didn't just commit multiple felonies, how much more of a break should she get?" She said, walking up to me. "Grimes made me responsible for her, and I'm not comfortable letting her out of my sight without one. If you have concerns take it up with him, but until then, she's not leaving this office without a bonding."

Justin didn't leave to take it up with Grimes, and he made no further arguments; instead, he just nodded at me to comply. I wanted to refuse, but I didn't know what would happen if I did. Reluctantly I pulled up the left sleeve of my sweater to my elbow and held my arm out. She grasped it just above my wrist, spreading her long fingers wide. I watched as the thin blue lines of her awen threaded forth from beneath her fingertips. They spread across my skin as she guided each line into the pattern of the weave.

Even though I felt like I was being wholly violated, I couldn't help but be impressed by her skill. Not that it was surprising, only the best of us were even considered for the Vanguard. Not only was each strand of her awen so thin that they sometimes seemed to disappear entirely, but they also moved so quickly and in unison that it was hard to believe that she was consciously guiding each one.

At first, there was a tickling at the surface like a feather brushing against my skin but as she continued the tingling turned to a burning sensation that became more and more painful as the magic settled deeper and deeper. Biting back a cry, I tried to focus on the large diamond that sparkled on her ring finger, as pain radiated up to my shoulder. It only lasted a few seconds, but I was shaking by the time she pulled her hand away and stepped back. The bond only worked one way, and I could sense nothing other than a lingering discomfort, but she must have been satisfied because she turned to leave without another word.

The ward left a physical imprint, a web of pale blue lines crossing in an intricate design that covered half my forearm and would remain until she removed it. Most people wouldn't even be able to see it, but I could, and I felt like I was branded for all to see. At least it was in a place that was easy to cover for now, but if it was still there come the summer, I would have to decide if long sleeves, in ninety-degree heat, was worth keeping it hidden, even if I would be mostly hiding it from myself. Justin waited at the door while I rolled down my sleeve and shrugged into my coat before we both followed Agent Maher out of the office.

We made our way down to the parking garage and to one of the several black SUVs that were parked along the wall. I noticed my car at the end of one of the rows, its small tan frame looking decidedly shabby next to the sleek black vehicles beside it. I was sure my keys weren't the only thing I would find missing from my purse.

I could have sworn I'd been in integration for hours, but when the SUV exited the garage, the sun was barely past its apex. Emily pulled out into traffic, and we drove in silence, the rhythmic hum of the wheels threatening to lull me to sleep. I thought about asking them to turn on the radio but decided to enjoy the scenery instead. Cracking the window, I rested my forehead against the glass and watched the bright hues of red and orange streak past.

Fall had always been my favorite time of year, and central Illinois didn't really have much of one, seeming to go straight from summer to winter over the course of a couple of weeks. I had missed coastal Virginia, with its mixture of crisp autumn air and sea breeze. Its temperate climate perfect for sweatshirts and jeans.

Illinois had its charms, but they were nothing like home. Usually, I'd be out with my friends trying to enjoy the weeks before winter settled in. Amber and I would be working in her garden preparing it for hibernation, or I'd be out with Donovan on his family's sailboat enjoying the brisk sting of ocean spray against our cheeks. How long had it been since I'd truly done anything just for fun?

We headed out of town, merging onto the interstate for a few miles. Traffic was sparse, and it seemed like no time at all before we were exiting and heading down into one of the older, more established neighborhoods. The tree line street was full of large stately homes and expansive manicured lawns. We pulled up into the driveway of a three-story dark green Victorian with ivory trim and a wraparound porch. Climbing out of the SUV, a small wave of homesickness washed over me.

I couldn't explain why it hit me like that. Our home had been nothing like the house in front of me. We had lived in a small gray ranch in a much less affluent part of town. Maybe it was the daydreams of better times with my friends that had brought back memories. I hadn't realized it at the time, but I'd been so happy.

Long nights spent helping my mother with her research as she tried to piece together scraps and fragments of lore, crafting them into beautifully detailed stories of Tuatha history. Those nights were filled with dusty books, pulled from nearly forgotten corners of the library, and frozen pizza, but I had always found myself caught up in her excitement as the tales of romance and intrigue sprang to life.

She had loved the people we had been, with their myth and mystery. When she finished each book, the weeks of work were always followed by celebration; fancy dinners and weekend trips. The evenings of research replaced by ice-cream and movie marathons until the next inspiration struck her. Those memories were now shrouded in so much doubt that I'd purposely pushed them from my mind for the past year. Refusing to revisit what my life had been.

The night I left, I had told myself I couldn't go back. That it would be the first place they'd look for me but I had also been worried about what I would find. Evidence of what had brought the Vanguard crashing into our home and our lives. The evidence that led them to look into Carolyn and Desirae Cradle and discover that they only existed on paper. With no more substance than the characters in her books. I had never gone back there. Was it abandoned, our stuff still sitting there, gathering dust in memorial of the lives that used to be or had another family moved in displacing any evidence that this Carolyn Cradle had ever existed?

Pushing the thoughts aside, I went to the rear of the SUV to grab my bag, but Justin waved me off. I followed Agent Maher up to the porch instead. An older woman with soft grey hair pulled back into a bun and a pleasantly lined face, opened the door before we reached the top step.

"Emily, it's so good to see you, dear," she said, giving Agent Maher a tight hug.

"Good to see you too." Emily smiled, returning the hug with genuine warmth. I'd kind of been hoping she was a naturally cold person and it wasn't just me she seemed to have a problem with.

"And you must be Desirae," she said, offering a warm, calloused hand. "You can call me Maggie. Come in both of you," she said, stepping back from the door and ushering us into a large foyer.

Justin followed close behind, and she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek after he deposited my bag on the floor. She invited them to sit down for some tea, but Agent Maher insisted that they needed to get back to the office. They bustled out as quickly as they'd arrived, leaving me alone with their former supervisor.

"What about you dear, would you like some tea?" she asked once they left.

I would have loved some tea, but I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes open much longer. After driving all night and then the stress of the interrogation, I could feel sleep dragging at my eyelids.

"Well, let's get you settled then," she said, patting my shoulder.

Grabbing my duffle and purse, I followed her upstairs, the broad wooden steps creaking slightly beneath our weight.

"I've spruced up one of the guest rooms, but you can choose one of the others if you'd like." She swung open the first door on the left. I instantly knew that I would have no desire to switch.

The floors were the same light-colored hardwood that seemed to run throughout the entire house, and the room was furnished with the kind of pieces you know got passed down from generation to generation. A four-posted bed sat against one wall its dark gray comforter matching the curtains and complementing the pale lavender of the walls. A matching dresser and nightstand, made of the same heavy dark wood as the bed, completed the look.

It was all lovely, but the jewel that caught my eye was the large bay window with a bench that looked out over the backyard. As I stepped further in, I could see that it had an incredible view of a large flower garden that seemed to be dominated by roses. With the mild fall, some of the flowers were still in bloom, providing bright splashes of color.

"This is perfect, thank you," I said, hoping my voice conveyed my absolute gratitude.

"Your welcome dear," she said with a smile. "There's a private bath through there." She pointed to a door on the left. "I'm going to give you some space so you can get comfortable. The stairs can be hard on my knees, so my room is downstairs past the sitting room if you need anything. We'll go over the rules after dinner; which will be at five thirty." With that, she was gone.

I'm not sure what I had expected exactly, certainly not this. I'd gotten reasonably good at reading people, and if her pleasantness was just a show, then she was a world-class actress. I couldn't help but feel this was all a mistake that the floor was going to drop out from beneath me at any moment. The axiom of too good to be true kept encroaching on my peace of mind.

It only took me a few minutes to unpack, all my clothes fitting into one drawer. A quick check of my purse showed that not only were my keys missing, but the envelope of money was as well. It wasn't a surprise, ill-gotten gains and all, but it was still disheartening. I was mildly surprised to see that my debit card and ID were still in my wallet but who knew if they had left my account untouched. Sighing, I placed my purse on the nightstand.

I thought about sitting at the window seat to take in some of the sun's rays, but my eyes felt heavy, and I knew I'd be asleep before I could actually enjoy it. An alarm clock sat on the nightstand, and I set it for five before laying down on top of the covers. I drifted off the moment my head hit the pillow.

A warm wet bump against my forehead woke me before the alarm. Opening my eyes, I jumped when I saw a pink nose only inches from my face and a pair of violet eyes staring at me. I barely had time to register that it was a rather large cat before a streak of white darted off the bed and through the cracked door.

Glancing at the clock, I still had ten minutes, but it wasn't worth laying back down. Reaching over, I turned off the alarm. I got up and made my way downstairs. The delicious smells of garlic and bread had my stomach growling before I reached the last step. Mac and cheese and ramen had been dietary staples far more often than I cared to admit, and the wonderful aromas of real food made my mouth water. Maggie was standing at the stove humming along to a golden oldies station, stirring a large pan of marinara while a pot of noodles boiled next to it.

"Can I help with anything?" I asked, trying to stifle a yawn as I walked into the brightly lit kitchen.

"You can set the table if you like. Plates are over there on the left and silverware in the drawer below," she said, pointing to a couple of white cabinets with silver handles.

I found everything easily. A few minutes later, the table was set, and we were sitting down to the best meal I'd had since leaving home. I'd been too nervous to eat anything earlier and much to my embarrassment I practically inhaled two servings of pasta and three slices of bread not to mention a large salad with a tangy Italian vinaigrette.

“Would you like the last piece of garlic bread?" Maggie pushed the plate towards me with a laugh.

After already stuffing myself silly I should have said no but I greedily reached for the slice, after all, no use letting good food go to waste. By the time we were done, I was wishing that I'd been wearing a larger sized pair of jeans. After dinner, we talked for a bit, mostly about the rules. It was nothing I hadn't expected, curfew, chores, and various other restrictions, though it was going to be weird going from being on my own with practically unlimited freedom to basically being under house arrest. It wasn't even eight when I headed back upstairs and even after taking an afternoon nap; I had no problem falling back to sleep.