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the hallway, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d lost a piece of ourselves with transition.
    But whether or not the Council had become more bureaucratic with the move didn’t negate the fact that if I wanted to stay employed with them, I’d need to learn how to play by their rules.
    “You’re right,” I said, feeling defeated. “I just hate it.”
    “Well buck up and grow a pair,” Quinn replied. “Life is tough and sometimes you have to do something you don’t enjoy because the long-term payoff is worth it. You may not like the Council, but you have a rare opportunity to develop some powerful contacts. Besides, no one ever died from being nice to people every once in a while.”
    “I’m always nice.”
    “To your loved ones, yes. To the bureaucrats at HQ, no. You’re a terrible actor and a worse liar. Your disdain is easy to read.”
    I frowned. “They haven’t exactly bent over backward to make me feel welcomed.”
    Today or when I’d returned from my self-imposed exile.
    Years ago I was as cocky as I was powerful. In my quest to prove I was worthy of the Shifter name, I’d accidentally summoned a Hellcat that killed a lot of my loved ones. In the wake of the devastation, I’d walked away from my training and the Skilled community as a whole, opting to live like a Normal. No magic, no short-cuts. But when I finally decided to stop running from my problems and return to my people several years ago, there was no ticker-tape parade welcome. Whether it was because they felt betrayed or because I’d turned my back on the traditions they held so dear, the Council, and many of my peers, turned their backs on me as well.
    I’d been struggling for acceptance ever since.
    “Marcus, I care about you,” Quinn continued, bringing me back to the present. “A lot. So please keep this in mind when I say that you need to get over yourself. Everyone has been through a rough patch. Yours may have been rougher than most, but you got through it. Burning bridges, especially now, is just stupid.”
    I was silent for a few minutes as I absorbed her words. Hearing her admit her feelings made me tingle in my happy places, despite her admonishment. She was right. Then again, she normally was.
    “You still there?” She sounded worried.
    “Yeah. Just soaking it all in.”
    “And messing with your scar, I bet.” Mock admonishment replaced her concern.
    I pulled my finger away from the long, white line that ran down the right side of my neck and into the collar of my shirt. “No.”
    She laughed. “You really are a terrible liar.”
    I smiled, warmed by the musical sound of her amusement. “I wish you were here, Quinn. I could use the moral support.”
    “I miss you too,” she replied. My heart sped up a few beats. Then she switched topics before we collapsed once again into an awkward conversation about our relationship. “How’s the research going?”
    “Poorly,” I admitted. “I haven’t been able to dig up any additional details about your father’s trial. That’s partially because I’ve been run pretty ragged by these rifts. The other part is because I still haven’t been able to get approval for full Wizarding credentials.”
    “You’re doing your best.” She couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice. It stabbed like a knife in my gut.
    I inhaled deeply. “My best apparently isn’t good enough. At least, not yet. If I can just cut through the red tape and get those credentials, I can access the secure files in the Research Library. Maybe then I can get a lead on who screwed over your father twenty years ago.” All I needed was a break. Just one piece of evidence to get the ball rolling. “If you have any more of his files, I could sure use them.”
    “I’ll see what I can dig up.”
    In addition to finding out who was behind the attack at the Homestead, Quinn and I had been investigating her father’s past, but we were getting nowhere. Two decades earlier, Simeon Fawkes had been