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at her sister’s body again. A cop turned her head, carefully picking through her blond locks. Opal sucked in a breath. “Careful with her!”

The cop glanced up at her, then went back to work.

Peter’s throat bobbed. “Ms. Whitaker—”

“Miss,” she interrupted, looking Peter up and down. “It’s Miss Whitaker.”

Okay, I couldn’t fight rolling my eyes that time. I leaned into one hip and leveled her a flat look. Did somebody say cougar?

Peter’s cheeks flushed pink. “Miss Whitaker, I assure you our officers will show your sister’s remains the utmost respect, but you need to allow them to do their jobs so we can bring her killer to justice.”

Her throat bobbed, but she dragged her gaze from her sister to Peter’s face and nodded. “Understood. I just—” She glanced down at Daisy. “I just feel very protective over her.”

Peter nodded. “That’s a natural reaction.”

She batted her lashes.

Was flirting with much younger men over your sister’s corpse natural, too?

Peter’s quill and scroll magically appeared beside his head, poised to take notes. “Miss Whitaker, you mentioned you’re the head potions maker?”

She nodded, her red lips slightly puckered.

“How did you come to work for your sister? Is she older… younger…?”

Opal flipped her dark hair. “I’m more experienced by a couple of years.”

I shot her a “get real” look. “By experienced you mean older?”

Her eyes blazed at me, but after a moment she ground out, “Yes.”

I glanced at Peter out of habit to share a smile, but found his expression stony and fixed on the woman. My shoulders slumped.

Opal squared her shoulders and addressed Peter. “As to your other question, I’m a talented potion maker in my own right.” She lifted her nose. “I apprenticed under a very prestigious potion master in the Earth Kingdom before joining forces with my sister—I didn’t work for her.”

I raised a brow. “Pearl and her husband Ralph were introduced as the founders of the company.” I shrugged. “I didn’t see you on stage. And I mean… even the pig made the cut before you.”

She scowled before wrangling her features into a simpering smile. “They’re the faces of the company.” She beamed at Peter. “I’m the talent.”

“Which potion master?”

She blinked at Peter, her eyes widening. “Sorry?”

“The name of the potion master you apprenticed under? Just being thorough.”

She glanced down at Daisy, who’d never taken her eyes off the woman, then cleared her throat. “Uh, his name was Mr. Archimedes.” She flipped a hand covered in glittering rings. “You know, in certain circles he’s very well-known, but to the layman I’m sure that means nothing, not worth looking into.”

“We’ll determine what’s worth looking into.”

I frowned up at Peter, surprised by his direct, one might argue rude tone, but his expression never changed from that flat, lifeless look of his. Snakes. What was going on with him? No wonder Daisy was concerned.

The enchanted quill scratched away at the scroll of parchment beside Peter’s head. He glanced at his notes, then turned back to Opal. “And what do your duties as head potion maker entail here?”

She adjusted her glasses, the rhinestones in the corners glinting as they reflected the blinding overhead lights. “I develop all the unique formulas for the various potions which we then send out to the manufacturer to produce.”

I pulled my lips to the side. “So if you’re really the one coming up with all the potions, why is your sister the face of the company and not you?”

She glared at me, though she forced her lips into a smile. “It was Pearl’s idea to take potions to the masses and directly sell them. She saw the value of taking such a boutique, niche skill and making it widely available.” She shrugged. “Besides, like I said, we founded the company together. I only stepped down a few months ago when Pearl and Ralph bought out my shares.”

“Why did they buy you out?” The space between Peter’s thick brows creased.

Opal’s eyes flitted to Daisy, then back up at Peter. “I, uh—I didn’t want the responsibility of running the company anymore.”

Daisy’s bushy tail wagged. Truth.

8

Tact

So far, Opal Whitaker appeared to be telling the truth, but I sensed some tension under all this. Maybe a little sibling rivalry? It couldn’t be easy, if she viewed herself as the talent, to have her sister get all the credit and celebrity status.

I thought back to the way the whole auditorium had vibrated with cheers and applause for Ralph and Pearl—she hadn’t even been onstage to be recognized. That had to sting even if she was no longer a part owner. I decided to test my theory.

“Did you—”

“Are you—”

Peter and I both stopped and looked at each other. I gulped and waited for him to continue, but when he stayed silent, I turned to Opal and started again.

“Did you—”

“Are you—”

We both stopped and faced each other again. Hot annoyance flushed up my neck and chest. I huffed. “After you.”

Peter’s throat bobbed and he leveled me a grim look, eyes flat. “No. After you.”

I sighed through my nose and turned back to face our witness. I gritted my teeth and willed myself to breathe. I’d just told him who I was—what I was. It’s not like I could help being a shifter—I was just born that way. And it literally changed nothing about who I was or how I’d acted with him. Especially considering the curse had taken away my abilities to shift, so it wasn’t like I was about to sprout wings and spontaneously shift into an owl and go flapping away anytime soon.

I balled my hands into fists and tried to pull my shoulders down from around my ears. If he was going to make it awkward, fine, he could be awkward, but I was going to do my job. Partly because I was desperate for money again, and partly just to spite him.

“Miss Whitaker.”

“Hm?” She blinked at me.

“Are you glad your sister’s dead?”

She choked. “Excuse me?”

I probably could have been more tactful, but Peter had annoyed the tact right out of me. I folded

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