“A good policy.” Barabas leaned back in his chair.

“I need you to guard her.”

“Do you have any legal authority over this child?”

I knew this was coming. Before taking charge of the Guild, Barabas had been a Pack lawyer. “No. However, she has no living relatives. She is an orphan living on the street. I didn’t kidnap her.”

Barabas turned to Marten. “Are you an orphan?”

“Yes.”

“She’s a witness to a murder.” Technically that wasn’t true but explaining the details would take a while, and Barabas didn’t need to know them. “Violent people are looking for her.”

“How long do you expect her to require protection?”

“A week.”

Barabas glanced at the gold bar. “You’re overpaying by at least half, possibly more.”

“I think you misunderstood. I want you to guard her. You, personally, or…”

Crap. I wasn’t supposed to be on a first-name basis with either of them, and Barabas and Christopher had gotten married after I left. Who took whose last name? Was it Christopher Gilliam, Christopher Steed, or Christopher Gilliam-Steed? Or Christopher Steed-Gilliam? If I said the wrong thing, it would mean I knew them from before they had gotten married. Barabas would never let that slide.

“…a member of your family.” Yes! Dodged that bullet. “Hence, the higher fee. Should she require protection after one week, I’ll return with a similar payment.”

It would put a dent in my immediate funds, but it was worth it.

“What if you don’t come back?”

“Then I expect you to do what you feel is right. You have a reputation as an ethical man.”

Barabas pondered the gold, glanced at Marten, and looked back at me. “Very well. I have just the person.” He raised his voice slightly. “Sophia!”

Marten eyed him.

The door swung open, and a teenage girl walked in, with a backpack hanging off one shoulder. She looked about fourteen, athletic build, dressed in shorts and a tank top. A pair of ruby red sunglasses perched on her head. Her hair, pulled back into a short ponytail, was the lightest shade of platinum blonde. Barabas was pale, but she was porcelain-white, and her eyes, fringed by white eyelashes, had an odd lavender tint. An albino.

“Father?”

“This is my daughter, Sophia,” Barabas said.

Barabas had a daughter? And Conlan hadn’t told me?

“Pleased to meet you,” Sophia said.

“She is a member of my family and she is uniquely qualified for this assignment.”

A red sheen rolled over Sophia’s eyes, and for a second, I saw the outline of a long horizontal pupil before it contracted into a human round shape. A weremongoose. Like Barabas.

Albinism in humans was rare, roughly one in seventeen thousand. In mammals it occurred slightly more often, about one in ten thousand. Albinism in shapeshifters didn’t exist. Albinos carried a higher risk of sunburn and skin cancer, and the lack of eye pigmentation sometimes caused vision problems that required corrective surgery. It was theorized that Lyc-V removed albinism in the womb, though there was no consensus on how exactly it did that. I had seen thousands of shapeshifters. Not a single albino among them.

There was only one way for Sophia to exist, and that way was very illegal. Barabas knew that better than anyone. What did you and Christopher do, and how in the world did you get away with it?

“Qualified for what?” Sophia asked.

“Bodyguard detail, twenty-four-seven, one week,” Barabas said.

“Overtime?”

“Pay and a half.”

“Hazard bonus?”

“Situational, depending on the level of the threat.”

Sophia narrowed her eyes. “I want it in writing, with the hazard bonus scale specified.”

“Done,” Barabas said.

Dear gods, he’d made a small female version of himself.

Sophia smiled. “Who will I be guarding?”

“Me,” Marten said.

“Hi. I’m Sophia.” Barabas’ daughter held out her hand.

Marten shook it. “Hi. I’m Marten. What’s in your bag?”

“Nagaina.”

Like father, like daughter.

“What’s a nagaina?” Marten asked.

Sophia slid her hand into the backpack and pulled out a cobra. Big and black, it wrapped around her arm and reared up, displaying a bright yellow chest. Marten froze.

“Sophia, you’re scaring the client,” Barabas said.

“Don’t worry. She’s an Egyptian cobra. They’re pretty docile and they don’t spit venom.” Sophia smiled. “And they don’t eat pine martens.” She slid the snake back into the bag.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Barabas.

“Quite. Sophia has a lot of experience despite her age, and Marten will be more comfortable with her.”

“This won’t be a peaceful assignment. They will both be in danger.”

“And that’s precisely why Sophia would be an excellent fit.” Barabas smiled, a sharp, controlled baring of his teeth. “She can dedicate herself to this assignment completely. During the day, they will be here, at the Guild. During the night, they will be at our home. If problems arise, my husband and I will handle them. Additionally, we live in a unique community. I assure you, it’s quite safe.”