Some Girls Bite by Chloe Neill Page A

nymphs control the branches and channels. You have River work to do, you call them first.” He held up a hand. “So you see, this isn’t just domestic disputes and petty theft. These are serious issues—issues the majority of the boys in blue don’t have the training, the experience, to deal with. Well, Mayor Tate wanted a way to funnel these issues down to a central location, a single office. Folks who could handle the disputes, take care of things before they could affect the rest of the city. So four years ago, he created the Ombudsman’s office.”
    I nodded, remembering Ethan’s reference. “Ethan mentioned that, said something about having Mallory talk to the Ombud. They think she has magic. That she’s a witch or something.”
    Grandpa made a sound of interest. “You don’t say. Catcher will be interested to hear that.”
    “Catcher?” I asked. “Is he the Ombudsman?”
    My grandfather chuckled. “No, baby girl. I am.”
    I froze, turned my head to stare at him. “What?”
    “The Mayor likes to call me a ‘liaison’ between the regulars and the sups. Personally, I think ‘liaison’ is a bullshit bureaucrat word. But the Mayor asked me to serve, and I said yes. I’ll admit it—I never came across any vamps or shifters when I walked the beat, and I was curious as all get out to meet these folks. I love this city, Merit, and don’t mind making sure everybody gets a fair shake.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t doubt that, but I don’t know what to say about the rest of it. You were retired, Grandpa. You told us—you told me—that you were retired.”
    “I tried retirement,” he said. “I even tried a stint in the evidence locker, a desk job. But I was a cop for thirty years. I couldn’t do it. Wasn’t ready to give it up. Cops have lots of skills, Merit. We mediate. We problem solve. Investigate.” He shrugged. “I just do it for some slightly more complicated folks now. I started at a desk in City Hall, and now I have my own staff.”
    He explained that he’d hired four people. The first was Marjorie, his secretary, a fifty-year-old woman who’d become battle-hardened by twenty-five years of staffing phones in one of the city’s more crime-ridden police bureaus. The second was Jeff Christopher, a twenty-one-year-old computer prodigy and, as it happened, a shape-shifter of as-of-yet-unidentified shape. The third was Catcher Bell. Catcher was twenty-nine and, my grandfather said, gruff. Warned my grandfather: “He’s pretty, but he’s wily. Give him a wide berth.”
    “That’s only three,” I pointed out when my grandfather paused.
    Silence, then, “There’s a vampire. Housed, but his colleagues don’t know he works for me. He avoids the office unless absolutely necessary. They do the groundwork,” my grandfather continued, “so all I have to do is step in and play good guy.” I doubted he was as uninvolved as all that, but—especially in contrast with my father—the humility was refreshing. “You won’t believe this,” he said on a gravelly chuckle, “but I’m not as spry as I used to be.”
    “No!” I exclaimed, feigning shock, and he laughed in response. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from us. I can’t believe you’ve been playing with magic for four years and didn’t tell me. Me! The girl who wrote about King Arthur for a living.”
    He patted my hand. “It wasn’t you that I was trying to keep the information from.”
    I nodded in understanding. My father’s discovery of my grandfather’s secret would have led to one of two results: arranging to have my grandfather fired, or trying to manipulate my grandfather to get closer to the Mayor. Ever scheming was my father.
    “Still,” I said, watching through the window as the city passed by, “you could’ve told me.”
    “If it makes you feel any better, I’m now your Ombudsman. And I’m taking you to our secret headquarters.”
    I looked over at him, watched him try unsuccessfully to