The Epilogues: Part I: Badge of Honor (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 6)

  Badge of Honor

  Hailey Edwards

  Copyright © 2021 Black Dog Books, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Edited by Sasha Knight

  Copy Edited by Kimberly Cannon

  Proofread by Lillie's Literary Services

  Cover by Damonza

  Illustration by Leah Farrow

  Contents

  Badge of Honor

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Black Hat, White Witch

  Chapter One

  Join the Team

  About the Author

  Also by Hailey Edwards

  Badge of Honor

  The Epilogues: Part I

  Hadley has worked her butt off to earn her title as Potentate of Atlanta. All that’s left for her is the gauntlet. A show of prowess for the citizens of Atlanta. A taste of what their new POA can do. She’s ready to dazzle them and bring home the prize.

  Until an old friend gets kidnapped. The price of his freedom? Her flunking the gauntlet.

  Either she gives up on her dream, or her friend.

  For Hadley, there’s only once choice.

  One

  Star Trek was a mistake as far as wedding themes go. I could admit that now, as I watched Midas get fitted with a pair of Vulcan ears that tapered to delicate points. His golden-blond hair had grown out over the last few months. I should have gone with Legolas from The Lord of the Rings movies over Spock.

  Mmm.

  Legolas.

  Talk about a missed opportunity.

  Still, he made Spock sexy. I wasn’t offended by how he filled out his Starfleet-inspired tux even a little.

  “Well?” Neely studied Midas from tip to toe with a critical eye. “What do you think, Mr. Groom?”

  Deep grooves furrowing his brow, Midas spun the question around on me. “What do you think?”

  Both men focused on me, eager for my reaction, but my tongue was tied in knots. Maybe my brain too.

  “Honey.” Neely dabbed the corners of my mouth with a linen napkin. “You’re drooling.”

  Neely Torres worked with me back in my days as a ghost tour guide in Savannah. Thanks to the charmed ring I wore that skewed my features toward Hadley and away from Amelie, he didn’t recognize me. I was grateful for that, mostly, but I was also a teeny-tiny bit sad I couldn’t hug him for old time’s sake without making it weird.

  He was on loan to me from Grier, who also met him through Haint Misbehavin’ Ghost Tours. These days, he worked for her full-time. From hair to nails to shoes, he designed the facades responsible for making her appear every inch the High Society Dame she had become. As well as a kickass potentate. And every facet in between.

  Lucky me, he was the man with a plan for my Trekkie wedding.

  “I can’t believe how this tux screams Beam me up, Scotty,” I answered them truthfully. “I thought it would come off as tacky or geeky or—”

  “Oh, girl.” A snort blasted out Neely’s nose. “It’s geeky as geeky gets, but I was aiming for geek chic.”

  Dressed in dark wash jeans, a French-blue button-down shirt, and loafers, he was the definition of chic. His chunky black glasses made him look ten years younger, like a kid fresh out of college. He was aging in reverse. Our very own Benjamin Button.

  “You nailed it.” I bit my bottom lip. “He’s gorgeous.” I cleared my throat. “The suit, I mean.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Neely’s gaze slid to where his husband stood. “I know exactly what you meant.”

  Cruz wasn’t much of a people person, which made them an even more striking couple since Neely was downright effervescent.

  His husband, every bit as human as Neely, wasn’t much of a shield against a gwyllgi or a necromancer, but you would never know it from his vigilant stance or how his keen eyes swept the room before landing on Neely each and every time, as if he couldn’t help being drawn back to him.

  Here was a man aware that monsters existed, and that his husband had chosen to walk among them.

  “It’s comfortable.” Midas rolled his shoulders, testing his mobility. “Not the ears, but the suit.”

  “The ears make the suit.” I winked at Neely behind Midas’s back. “In fact, can we leave those on?”

  Midas caught my eye in the floor-length mirror, and a grin ticked in his cheek. “No.”

  “Aww.” I popped out my bottom lip. “Please?”

  “Save it for the wedding night.” Neely leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “The glue we’ll be using on the big day is hell to remove.”

  “I see why you’re so tight with Grier.” I linked my arm through his out of habit. “You’re an enabler.”

  “Part of it is my job,” he confessed while spreading his hands, “but the rest is my nature.”

  “Ten minutes,” Cruz said, checking his expensive-looking watch. “Then we have to go.”

  “Client dinner,” Neely explained. “Cruz has to schmooze.”

  His husband gave no sign of laughing at the joke, but his aura somehow lightened under Neely’s smile.

  The Bubbly Accountant and The Beast.

  An oversimplification of who they were, but I would so watch that movie.

  “I appreciate you squeezing us in on short notice.”

  “Midas was already on the books for his next fitting, so the timing was perfect.”

  In addition to decking out my entire bridal party, he was also dressing me for my other Big Day.

  “I’ve had two years to get ready for this.” I wiped my palms dry on my pants. “How am I not there yet?”

  Concern in every line of his face, Midas pivoted toward me, but Neely narrowed his eyes on the gwyllgi. I might have laughed at Midas being cowed by the squinty designer, but I was too jittery. I also couldn’t blame him for not wanting to risk the tux. It was a masterpiece. Almost as beautiful as what it contained.

  The ceremony to make me the official Potentate of Atlanta was in days.

  Days.

  Not weeks or months or years.

  Days.

  “We view big goals as distant and unobtainable for so long,” Neely soothed, keeping a warning eye on Midas, “it doesn’t feel real when we achieve them.”

  “I haven’t proven it obtainable yet.”

  “Linus believes you will, Grier too, and I would never bet against them.”

  Grier believed the best of people, but Linus tended toward caution. His faith humbled me.

  “You don’t count,” I informed Midas, who growled at the exclusion. “You’re too biased in my favor.”

  “You can do anything you set your mind to, Hadley.” His gaze bored into me. “That’s not bias, it’s fact.”

  Warm tingles spread through my chest at his absolute faith in me.

&n
bsp; “We need to hurry this along,” Cruz said, joining us, “or we’ll be late.”

  “Left to my own devices,” Neely conceded, “I never shut up when I go visiting.”

  “I—” I almost messed up and said I miss our long talks, but I recovered, “—enjoy our conversations.”

  “Me too.” He gave me one of his eye-crinkling grins. “Okay, back to business before Cruz tosses me over his shoulder and carries me out of here.” He wet his lips. “Not that I would complain, mind you.”

  Cruz bent down to kiss Neely’s jaw and whispered in his ear words I couldn’t hear.

  With a flush climbing Neely’s neck into his cheeks, he checked a calendar app on his phone.

  “I’ll be back in four weeks for your dress fitting.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll email you the date and the best times so you can work me into your schedule.”

  “Maybe the next time you’re in town,” Midas the grumpy mannequin said, “we can all do dinner.”

  “It feels like I’ve known Hadley forever.” Neely lit up the room with his smile. “I would love to spend more time with you two. So would Cruz. Right, honeybun?”

  Cruz made a noise partway between a grunt and a growl that Neely interpreted as agreement.

  “See?” He leaned his head on Cruz’s shoulder. “We’re practically best friends already.”

  The admission he gravitated toward me, this new me, melted my insides to goo and gave me hope we might reestablish our friendship given time.

  “Thanks again.” I walked the couple to the door. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Francis,” he called to his assistant, who sat in the kitchen beside two boxes of donuts I’d left on the counter for our guests. “Can you help our groom out of his clothes?”

  “I volunteer as tribute,” I yelled, shooting an arm into the air.

  “I don’t trust that look in your eyes.” Neely clucked his tongue. “You might tear the wrapper trying to get to the candy.” He waved Francis in. “I have to go, but you know the drill. Bag it, tag it, and bring it to the hotel.”

  Hand pressed to Neely’s lower back, Cruz guided his husband out the door then shut it behind them.

  I was surprised he didn’t lock it too, in case Neely tried to duck back in with one last anecdote.

  In the hall, I heard Neely’s mouth running a mile a minute until the elevator’s sliding doors muted him.

  Francis emerged with powdered sugar dusting his lips and, somehow, also a milk mustache.

  “I bet he forgot to mention he brought Mr. Kinase a tie to match your pantsuit for the coronation.”

  Coronation wasn’t the right word, but it was close enough, and it had a nice ring to it.

  “That was very thoughtful of him.” Neely’s attention to detail didn’t surprise me one bit. “You might want to wash up before you handle the suit.” I traced a finger around my mouth. “Always remember to erase the evidence.”

  The process of packing away the suit took a good twenty minutes, given all the donut breaks Francis took in between stages. I mean, I admired a man who knew what he wanted then went out and got it. Even if it was a half dozen powdered sugar bliss rings. And a half gallon of milk.

  A knock on the door brought my head around, and I excused myself to see who had come calling.

  “Bish.” I rushed into the hall and shut the door on my heels. “It’s bad luck to see the groom before his wedding day.”

  Bishop handed me a café mocha, which was piping hot, and frowned. “More superstitious Society mumbo-jumbo?”

  As far as gwyllgi were concerned, Midas and I were mated, and that was that. Let the HEA begin! The Society, however, was big on weddings. My family expected one, and Midas wanted me to have one. That meant I got to plan it.

  Bwahaha.

  Poor Midas.

  He was probably regretting his life choices right about now.

  Oh well.

  Things could be worse. For him, I mean. I could still pour him into tight leather pants and a tunic, slap on a flowing platinum-blond wig, and force him to carry a faux Bow of the Galadhrim during the ceremony.

  Mmm.

  Legolas.

  I jolted from my fantasies when Bishop snapped his fingers at the end of my nose.

  “Mostly, I don’t want you to embarrass him.” I glared at him. “Laugh all you want, after the ceremony.”

  “I heard that,” Midas called through the door, reminding us that gwyllgi hearing was excellent.

  Jerking my head toward the elevator, I invited Bishop to take a ride. “How’s our night shaping up?”

  The fitting only cost me two hours, and it was well worth it for the ears alone.

  “I’m not sure what shape I would call it.” Scratching his cheek, he rolled a shoulder. “Pear-shaped?”

  We stepped into the car, and I mashed the button for the lobby. “That’s bad, right?”

  “The obstacle course was found trashed after sundown.” He watched my reflection in the silvery panels. “The hurdles have been busted, the ropes cut, the balancing beam sawed in two— You get the picture.”

  Before I modeled Neely’s latest on stage to take my final bows, I first had to supply entertainment in the form of running a magical gauntlet to prove my worthiness prior to the official vote that sealed the deal.

  The exact nature of my exhibition, which was more a showcase of my skills than proof of worthiness, had remained a closely guarded secret. Until last month. When Linus tore open a sealed envelope that held the details within.

  Yep.

  I got thirty whole days to prepare.

  The gauntlet focused on my ability to neutralize supernaturals common to Atlanta. To “win” I had to start at Point A and reach Point B with a pulse. Easy, right?

  Lost limbs made you look like a newb, but they didn’t disqualify you. From what I could tell, not much counted as a no-no once you got inside the gauntlet. But with amputation spanning an entire page in the rule book, I had concerns. I could only imagine how many apprentices had lost body parts for the purpose of amusing the Grande Dame, who presided over the transference of power, and the other faction heads.

  A chill skittered down my spine recalling the last spectacle the Grande Dame officiated on my behalf. The murder trial in Savannah kicked off by outing me as a dybbuk and a killer then ended with my disownment when my parents turned their backs on me.

  Yeah.

  I was super excited to be at her mercy again.

  “Someone wants me to fail.” I twirled a finger. “Do they think wrecking my practice field will stop me?”

  Do your job well, and you were bound to make enemies.

  I did my job very well, and I had the enemies to prove it.

  “No one who’s met you would think that, no.” He hesitated. “There’s also an additional complication.”

  “Life was going smoothly there for about a minute, so I figured my boat was about to get rocked.”

  “A woman named Sue Billiard arrived in the city today. I had Reece run a background check. She was the Potentate of Phoenix, but she stepped down after she got pregnant. With quintuplets. That was thirteen years ago.”

  “Five babies at one time?” I crossed my legs in sympathy, even though I was sure quints were a one-way ticket to a C-section. “No wonder she quit her day job.”

  “That’s not the best part.”

  “What is the best part?” I read his expression. “There is no best part, is there?”

  “Not even close.” He sucked on his teeth. “She wants her old job back. Here. In Atlanta.”

  The wind got knocked out of my sails so fast I coughed until Bish hit me on the back.

  “Why Atlanta?” I wheezed as my lungs inflated. “There must be other cities, ones without apprentices.”

  Sue Billiard had massive lady balls to swagger into town at the last minute and attempt a coup.

  And no, that was not a pun on her last name. Just a statement of fact.

  “Her husband Sean is a
selkie. She must think Lake Lanier would suit him as a swimming pool.”

  The manmade lake was formed by the completion of Buford Dam on the Chattahoochee River, and it sat an hour northeast of Atlanta. It was the largest lake in the state. It was also the deadliest.

  “A selkie,” I mused, “just what every cursed lake needs.”

  The lake had earned its cursed title for its high number of fatalities, and the twenty cemeteries displaced during its creation. Underwater ghost towns, complete with roads, homes, and businesses left to the flood dotted the lake’s bottom. Farms too. Years ago, drought even exposed stadium seating for a racetrack that was ditched in favor of progress.

  Nostalgia for the good ol’ days had me thinking I might share a few ghost stories with Grier, gauge her interest in expanding her business north for select nighttime ghost tours on dark water.

  Haint Behavin’: The Pontoon Boat Edition.

  Frak.

  I was compartmentalizing again, shoving aside my fear in favor of whimsy.

  But…a contender. For my title. For my city. For my future.

  The full scope of this complication sucker-punched me, and I shut my eyes to stop the room spinning.

  “I didn’t know this could happen,” I admitted, voice tight. “I thought it was me or no one.”

  “This is a unique situation. She’s trained, she’s served, and she’s available. She can apply to any city with a vacancy.”

  Hands balling at my sides, I growled, “Atlanta isn’t vacant.”

  “Cities are most vulnerable during the days leading up to a vote.”

  Atlanta’s paranormal communities had had a rough year, thanks to the witchborn fae crisis. I had to look at myself, my actions, and ask if I could have saved more lives or minimized the property damage. Had I done this to myself? Put the citizens in a position where another potentate—any other potentate—looked better than me?