Priceless

about it.”
    Valley agreed, stood, and handed me his card. “Call me when you’re ready to do the right thing.”
    I had to hold back an urge to strike out at him for poking at my weak spot. Guilt was the one thing I couldn’t escape, the one thing that drove me more than any other, and of course, those shrewd eyes that had a moment ago seemed kind, saw that in me.
    Valley left, but O’Shea stayed behind. Milly stood, touched the agent on the shoulder and said, “Call me.”
    He nodded, his eyes tracking her as she left the room. I didn’t have any right to feel upset. Milly always got the guy. It was nothing new. Ignoring my traitorous emotions, I faced O’Shea.
    “What about your partner, Martins? Will his name be blacklisted?” It was stupid to ask, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. How could I be his partner? It wouldn’t work. We were too different.
    “His family will get a sizeable payout, and his funeral will be all paid for. No expense spared. It was the best they could do. Until the government decides to let the general populace know, it’s the best we could come up with.” His shoulders sagged. “I want you . . .”
    My breath caught.
    “. . . as my partner.” His dark eyes lifted to mine. “But I’d understand if you turned it down.”
    Nodding, I said nothing, for once somewhat speechless. I wanted to go back to the days where I felt nothing for this human standing in front of me. Nothing but contempt, anger, maybe even hatred. Simple to feel those things, not so simple to start caring.
    “I’ll let you know.”
    He nodded and brushed past me, the scent of his cologne and the mint I remembered from his lips catching me off guard, making me sway on my feet.
    The room was silent, but for the steady breathing that was my attempt to calm the confusion rushing through me.
    A sniffle at the door caught my ear. I lifted my hand, not needing to turn around. “Alex.” There was the scrabble of feet on the rough wooden floor, and then a large furry body wrapped around my legs and helped to ground me. I crouched down and hugged him; buried my face into his neck.
    “Rylee sad,” he grumbled, his arms awkwardly circling me.
    “A little. But I’ll be okay.”
    “Harpy sad too.”
    I’d forgotten about that little detail. I stood, brushed my face off as though I wasn’t crying and strode to the door. “Where is she roosting, Alex?”
    He bolted out the door and I trotted after him. He made a beeline for the half-rotted barn. Pushing the door open, I stepped into the mote-filled air. The light streamed through the broken slats and gave a picturesque scene, if not for the Harpy dozing in the old hay.
    “Eve?” I didn’t step any further into the room. As it was, I could leap out and slam the door if I had too. Alex, though, had no qualms. He trotted forward and stuck his nose under her chin. “Evie.”
    She fluttered awake, her eyes blinking slowly. “Hello, Tracker.”
    “You can call me, Rylee,” I said, my hands itching for a weapon, even though she had claimed sanctuary with me. Harpy’s were not trusted for a reason.
    “Rylee, then. I chased away the pack that was here; it didn’t take much.”
    That explained that. Maybe having a Harpy around wouldn’t be all bad. I nodded my thanks. Alex, though, didn’t hold back, almost throwing himself at the young Harpy; she brushed him off, but not in an unkind way.
    “What are you going to do?” Her voice was devoid of any emotion.
    It hit me that she was depressed, which made sense. I’d lost my sister, I knew what it was to lose a beloved sibling and think you should have somehow saved them.
    Breathing in the scent of hay and years of dust, I made my way over to her, sat down, and talked. About Berget, about my life, about how I wanted to save those kids who got snatched. Her eyes went wide as I opened up to her like I’d only ever done with Milly, and Eve seemed to sense it.
    “Why are you telling me all of this?”
    By now Alex was laying across my lap.
    “Because I know what it is to be lost, to want to find your own path, one that can maybe redeem the past,” I said, my voice thick with sorrow even to my own ears.
    She nodded slowly as she took it all in. “May I help you? Would you let me?”
    That was not expected, and it was my turn to nod slowly. “Yes, you could help me. But I have to ask, Eve, how can you be so accepting of me? I killed both of your sisters.”
    Her feathers fluffed up. “In our culture, it