Chapter 2

"That was one time!" Lynn snapped. "And I told you assholes—this," he jabbed at his chest, "was done by some spotted sixteen-year-old with a dubious ability to make decisions."

Jack snorted and took a sip of his nasty-smelling earl gray. "That's all sixteen-year-olds. Like you ever made a wise decision at that age?"

"I'll have you know I was a very smart girl at that age."

"I don't believe you," Jack replied. "For instance: why would you shift into a man when you could look like your sister?"

"And everyone says I'm the asshole," Lynn muttered and shot him a disgusted look. "My sister didn't become my sister until college—until then she was my brother. We are gorgeous in all shapes and sizes, so fuck off."

"I always forget how fluid krakens are. You ocean types in general are good at that, right?"

"Some krakens argue they aren't fluid, at least not the way most people mean that word. It's natural to krakens to be born 'male' and shift to 'female' in middle age. And that's all most of us do. My sister and I are fluid, however. But yes, broadly speaking, ocean types tend that way."

"Bet she makes a better man than you," Jack with a grin.

Lynn lightly punched his arm and went back to work, leaving Jack to his snickering.

He didn't stop working until he felt the familiar prickle along his skin that told him his sister was close. He stood and strode back to the front to meet her just as she stepped inside. "Good morning, Les."

She beamed at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Hey, bro." Pulling back, she held out the suit she was carrying, still bagged and on a hanger. "This is the one you wanted, right? Jeez, look at the mess you made of that one—that'll never come out!"

"I know," Lynn agreed sourly, looking down at the white and gray ruin. "Stupid kids. Thanks for bringing the new one. I hope your meeting goes well today." Movement caught the corner of his eye and he turned to scowl at Jack—but too late as Jack waved at Leslie, who cheerfully waved back.

"How's it going, Jack?"

"Fine, fine. How are you, goddess?"

"Shut up," Lynn said. "I will break your face."

Leslie reached out and pinched his stomach hard. "Behave," she hissed. "I'll tell mom you're being a brat."

"Where do you think I get it?" Lynn muttered, but he settled into morose resignation as the whole damn building showed up to chat with Leslie. He didn't understand how she could be so nice all the time. Being nice made people more annoying.

Miguel touched her shoulder a beat too long and Lynn finally lost the last of his patience. "Keep your filthy hands to yourselves, or you know how enthusiastically I will remove them." Casting them all a look to emphasize it was no idle threat, he slung his suit over one shoulder and headed down the hall to an empty office where he could change.

When he emerged several minutes later, he was dressed in his second-best Hugo Boss, a beautiful black suit with purple pinstripes, complete with vest and a tie the loveliest shade of deep, rich purple. His mother liked to say it was the color of a bruise, but she constantly wore that ugly slime-green hoodie she couldn't seem to live without, so who was she to judge?

He fussed with his octopus cufflinks as he made his way back to the main work area—and paused as he realized the ruckus had grown exponentially. Everyone was noisier than usual and nowhere near their desks. "Where's my sister?" he demanded.

"She left, something about a panicked call from her boss," Jack replied. "She said to tell you she'd see you this weekend for brunch and not to forget to bring… something I can't pronounce, sorry. I don't speak Creature of the Deep."

"It was probably French, asshole. I always buy something at the French bakery my mother likes." Lynn pushed him out of the way to try and get better look at what was causing all the chaos. "So what the fuck is everyone going so nuts about?"

"Your new new partner has shown up—way early, to judge by the kittens Comber just birthed." Jack's mouth curved in a slow grin. "You've got a unicorn."

Lynn gave him a harder shove, sending Jack tumbling back to land heavily in his chair. Ha. No one would send a unicorn to such a tumultuous office. Unicorns were pretty much useless for the more violent, bloody end of the field work spectrum. "You're a filthy liar and—" He broke off as the crowd shifted just enough that he could see that Jack was not, in fact, a liar.

Unicorns were so effortlessly pretty that Lynn wanted to… well, do things that were stereotypes he refused to perpetuate. He scowled at the little unicorn, who managed to be pale-skinned without being the fish belly white that Lynn suffered. His hair was an utterly ridiculous gold-silver shade of blond. At least it wasn't some atrocious pink or lavender that had to be dyed. If he cleared five feet, Lynn would die of shock. Lynn was only average height in human form, and the stupid unicorn would still barely even come halfway up his chest.

Ugh, and unicorns were always so… unicorn. He gave it an hour before his new partner got offended or freaked out and demanded a transfer. Damn it. Just once couldn't he get a partner that had a strong possibility of sticking around?

But until further notice, that was his new partner and everyone needed to back off. "Get the fuck out of the way, you nosy bastards," he said. "Move it, move it, or I'm going to go Jules Verne on all your asses. Get the fuck out of the way, Norman, you're already on my list."

"God is on your list," Norman groused but backed away. "Keep your ink to yourself."