Sin darted a startled glance behind her then stepped into the back room.
It looked like any other office—a desk covered in invoices, Post-its cluttering a white board, a worn leather desk chair. Athan walked to the desk and through it.
With a gentle shove against her lower back, Sin followed, stepping past the fading, holographic desk into the dimly lit corridor behind it.
Sin knew more magic had to be at work here, because there was no way the little shop was this deep. Gray walls were scuffed. The tiled floor covered in chipped linoleum. Bare bulbs strung along an electric wire stapled to the ceiling expelled pockets of shadows. They continued farther down the crude corridor toward a single doorway.
Athan glanced back, and then turned the doorknob, standing aside to let Sin enter first.
Not knowing what to expect, she felt a moment’s letdown. She entered the inner sanctum of a demon hunting organization, staffed with otherworldly creatures, but she could just as well have entered the police dispatch center.
She counted five individuals inside the room and wondered if any more of the invisible helpers might be around. One woman and four men, some seated at consoles with headsets. They glanced up, their gazes snagging on her for a moment, before receiving a calming wave from Athan and returning to their tasks.
“Any of them human?” she whispered to Petrakis.
“They’re from the Shadowlands, as well. But acclimated.”
Not sure what that meant, but getting tired from information overload, she held her questions and looked around her.
Computer consoles, arranged in an open octagon, faced outward. A large flat television screen hung from one wall directly in front of the octagon with a city map featured. Whiteboards ran the length of three walls to the sides and back of the room.
One glaring difference was quantity of books, scrolls and papers that littered every available surface.
Athan strode toward one conference table and held out a chair for her. “Marco,” he called out, “keep monitoring the scanners. The rest of you, come to council.”
Sin took her chair as the rest gathered around the table. Curious glances shot her way, but no one spoke. Petrakis sat beside her and folded his arms over his chest, his narrowed gaze on Athan.
“Something unexpected has happened today. Theo brought us a gift.”
“Does it taste like chocolate, because I’m PMS-ing bad,” the woman said, stretching back in her chair, her gaze narrowing on Sin.
“Did you drag her out of a fire pit?” one of the guys asked, eyeing Sin’s hair.
Sin aimed a glare at the woman and slouched in her chair, not sure she wanted to get to know this group any better if their manners didn’t improve. And what did the blonde-haired woman mean about how she tasted?
“Play nice,” Athan said. “She’s human.”
All gazes sharpened on Sin, examining her like she’d morphed into an insect.
“Despite the way they act,” Athan said with a warning edge in his tone for the group, “this is an elite team, pulled from several regions in the Shadowlands.”
“Are they like you?” Sin asked.
Athan’s lips curved. “No. All different species, but united to serve one goal—to rid this earth of skinwalkers and other demons who serve a dark purpose.”
Sin shifted uncomfortably, feeling like she was living inside a comic book and the superhero’s mentor was giving the doom and gloom speech.
“I can see the wheels turning, Sinead, but have patience. You’ll have time to learn everything you need to know about us. For now, I just wanted to introduce you to the team.”
His gaze left her and narrowed on the others. “She’ll be working with us, and perhaps bringing a friend along with her.”
“We talked about integrating before,” one of the men said, “but do you mind my asking, why her? Couldn’t we at least have gotten someone with a bit of muscle?”
“She has a gift,” Athanasius said, appearing to relish the moment. “She’s a natural scout.”
“Is this true?” the woman aimed the question at Detective Petrakis.
“She tracked one to a portal, latched onto it, and passed right through. She’s the real thing.”