“Took you long enough to get around to that.” A rich, booming voice with an Irish lilt informed him. “Back in my day, it was the first thing we did.”

“Back in your day people also regularly died of smallpox, didn’t they?” Jack frowned at the newcomer in an uncharacteristic show of irritation. “But you don’t brag about it, Callum.”

Internally, Marshall sighed. The only reason he could think of for Callum Lane to be here was to talk to Marshall about becoming the new praetor. “I prefer to observe a situation before I decide to tinker with thousands of people’s minds. It saves time and endless backtracking.”

“Sure, and it can, but with my way, you’d be having a better chance of catching the criminals before they get away.” Callum’s thin mouth was tight with disapproval, and his bushy red eyebrows had nearly eclipsed his eyes. It was going to be one of those encounters.

“Did you come here to be a backseat driver, Cal?” Marshall decided to just get it over with. Dodging the man wasn’t working, so they might as well have it out now.

“You know why I came here, sonny. You’ve been moping about long enough, and it’s time for you to get back to your real life and your real job.”

“This is my life, and I happen to like my job. I’m quite good at it. Or so I’m told.”

“This?” Callum peered around the magic-soaked hallway. “This is a simple matter anyone could clean up. If you like, I can take it off your hands and leave you free to return to⁠—”

“I don’t quit in the middle of a case.” Marshall cut him off harshly.

“Don’t suppose you do, do you? You should, though. It’s time to stop living in the past.” Marshall’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but Callum forged ahead, obviously meaning to speak his peace. “Praetor Nala’s been dead more than a year now, and it’s time for a new one to take her place. It’s time for you to step up and be the man we all know ya to be.”

“The man you used to know is gone, Cal. I haven’t been him for a long time now.”

“You only say that because you can’t let go, won’t let go…”

“Callum…” Jack growled out a warning to the man.

Heedless of the warning, Callum forged ahead. “She’s gone, man! You have to let her go and move on. Stop wasting your talents mooning over a lost child—” Callum’s words froze in his mouth, and he swayed where he stood, his mind no longer under his control.

Marshall’s eyes burned as he fought to control himself. “She. Is. Not. Gone.” Each word was punctuated by Callum staggering back a step as Marshall’s will pushed at him.

“Mars.” Jack’s hand was on the back of Marshall’s neck, grounding him. “It’s okay, you can stop now. No one is going to keep us from finding Nova.”

Marshall snapped his gaze away from Callum, releasing the man from his control, and took a deep breath to calm himself. “I told you I’m not the man you knew, Cal. If you need someone right now, you’ll have to find another praetor. My time is not my own to give.” Not trusting his control, he kept his eyes on the wall next to Callum.

Not easily daunted, Callum stood his ground but showed sense and calmed his tone. “Your father, gods rest his soul, wouldn’t have left you to stew for as long as I have. But he isn’t here, so I’ll do right by you the only way I know how.”

“My father would have found her by now,” Marshall said bitterly.

“Self-pity doesn’t become you, sonny. Nor does it accomplish anything.”

Jack tightened his grip, as if expecting Marshall to get angry again, but Marshall only laughed softly. “You’re more like him than you know, Cal.”

“I don’t know. I think he would have kicked your arse for what you just did.”

“And brought me in on charges, I imagine. You can, you know.” Marshall could feel Jack tense behind his back.

What would his friend do if Callum decided to take Marshall in? Probably something rash. For all his jokes and relaxed attitude, Jack could be unpredictable when someone he cared about was threatened.

Callum shrugged. “Now why would I want to be doing that over so little a thing? Too much paperwork involved for my liking. Besides, if the Guard prosecuted people over every tiny infraction, they’d never get anything done.” He slowly relaxed his fists, showing that—kind words aside—he had been rattled at how quickly and easily Marshall had called up the power to control him.

Marshall closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your call.” Now that his temper had faded, all he could feel was a sweeping exhaustion gripping his body and mind.

Jack relaxed, dialing his protective stance back by half like he always did once a crisis had passed. Since that fateful day five years ago, Jack had been glued to Marshall’s side, ready to give Marshall the support he needed. Ever the watchful friend, ever faithful in helping him hold it together.

However, what Marshall really needed right now was for Cal to go away and leave him to his investigation in peace. It had been a long time since Marshall had needed the older man to hold his hand in the field. As long as he was around, Marshall would have to fight to stay in charge.

It had always been that way between the two. Even before the death of Marshall’s father, Cal had taken it upon himself to watch over him. Losing his mother moments after his birth, Marshall had attracted more than his fair share of parental figures, most of them benign.

Not Cal, though. Instead of letting him learn and grow, Cal tried to force Marshall along a path allegedly for his own good. His older sister Adelle had done the same at first, but when he had proven time and again that his judgment in the field was as unparalleled as his mastery over the Dreamscape, she had stood down from her self-appointed role as Marshall’s life coach. If she hadn’t, he never would have been able to work with her.

But, as annoying as Cal was, he was the only person other than Adelle and Jack who cared about how young Marshall was. Cal still pushed Marshall to be someone he wasn’t ready to be, but he planned to help Marshall once he became praetor. In the long run, that would be far worse than what the people who treated Marshall like the savior of the world were doing now.

Cal saw Marshall as a stand-in for his father and pushed him to take his place. But once he got Marshall where he wanted him, Cal wanted to be his regent. It would be done out of love, but he would never stop trying to coddle Marshall. If Marshall allowed Cal to do as he pleased, he’d have the man stepping on the back of his shoes for the rest of his life.

Sometimes Marshall felt so small inside, like maybe he should just sit back and let Cal and the rest of the Guard plan out his life for him. But whenever he was at his lowest and ready to give in, he would think about Jack and Adelle and the support they gave him. Their confidence in him was far more powerful than anything Marshall had magically. With them at his back, he could do anything.

Pulling together all the authority that the mantle of being a guardian had bestowed on him, Marshall looked at Cal. “When this investigation is over, I will come to you, and we will discuss this further, but I don’t promise that you will like the results.” He held up a hand to forestall the argument he saw brewing on Callum’s face. “Later. Right now, I have a case to solve.”

Only slightly mollified, Callum looked thoughtful for a time, his massive eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then nodded. Finally, he reached out and clapped Marshall on the shoulder. “You’re a good boy, Marshall. You’ll do the right thing when the time comes.” He turned to look at Jack with skepticism. “You look out for him, you hear?”

“I don’t need you to tell me that, old man.” Disdain dripped from Jack’s words.

“Don’t start, you two.” Marshall jumped in to forestall the inevitable argument that occurred when Jack and Callum were in the same room together. As far as Marshall could remember, those two had never gotten along.

Callum leveled a narrowed eye at Jack, but after a moment, he shrugged and turned to leave.

As Callum walked away, Jack said, “I don’t know why I bothered to stop you. If I had waited another minute, you could have Crafted him a better personality.”

“You stopped me because you’re a good friend. He means well even if he is irritating.”

“Where does he get off calling you boy? You’ve been a guardian for years.”

“I think at his age, everyone looks like a child. He was born in the sixteen-hundreds, after all.” And as much as Marshall liked to think otherwise, he was still considered a child by the Guard’s standards. The fact that Marshall had his own team was unheard of at his age.

Jack snorted but said nothing. The scowl on his face spoke volumes.

A tall woman with long, honey-colored curls entered the hallway. Her hazel eyes matched Marshall’s as well as the large, round pendant she had hanging from a chain around her neck. The rest of her attire was tight, black, and functional, befitting a guardian in the field.

“Adelle, where have you been?” Marshall snapped.

“Dearest, I saw Callum on the stairs, and I’m sure he rattled you just now, but there’s no need to be snippy; it’s not like you.” Adelle kissed her brother on the cheek and asked Jack, “How bad was it?”

Jack shrugged. “Cal could have been more controlling and obnoxious. I mean, he left when Marshall told him to, so that’s something.” His words were light, but his eyes told a different story.

Adelle nodded like she understood exactly what had happened.

Marshall hated it when they did that. For the most part, all three of them worked together seamlessly. Their skills and personalities complemented one another so well it was like the gods had created them to work as a team. Then there were other times when it felt like the two of them were only doing the job because Marshall was and that their real job was to support him and keep him from going insane or losing control.

Marshall was starting to suspect they weren’t wrong to behave so. Under specific circumstances, his control over his temper wasn’t what it should be. The burden of too much power on young shoulders had left Marshall far less stable than he should have been.