Chapter 4 Learning Curve

Cressida's POV

The coffee mug hits the wall three inches from my head.

I don't flinch.

That's the first sign something's different. The old me would have ducked and apologized. The old me would have cleaned up the mess while Marcus yelled. But this morning, I just stand there and watch coffee drip down the white paint, and I smile.

"Are you listening to me, Halloway?" Marcus's face is red. Spit flies from his mouth. "I said the Morrison report was due yesterday!"

"I turned it in Tuesday." My voice sounds calm. Strong. Nothing like the squeaky whisper I usually have. "You approved it yourself. Don't you remember?"

His eyes narrow. Something in my tone makes him pause. For seven years, I've been the office punching bag. The girl who takes abuse without fighting back. But right now, standing in his doorway with my chin up and my shoulders straight, I'm someone different.

Someone he should be afraid of.

"Don't get smart with me," he says, but his voice shakes just a little.

I see it then—the guilt. It glows around him like black smoke, swirling and thick. Numbers and images flash through my mind. Account #4782—he stole forty thousand dollars. Account #9213—another sixty thousand. Email dated March 15th where he sexually harassed Jenny from accounting. Text messages where he threatens other employees.

Every sin. Every crime. All of it laid out in my brain like a map.

"I'm not being smart, Marcus." I step into his office and close the door behind me. "I'm being honest. Maybe you should try it sometime."

His face goes pale. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know what you've been doing." The words come out smooth as silk. "The money you're stealing. The women you harass. The evidence you hide. I know everything."

Marcus stands up so fast his chair rolls backward and hits the wall. "You're crazy. You don't know anything."

"Account #4782. You created it six months ago." I watch his face change as I speak. "You've been moving money from our donor funds into it. Small amounts so nobody notices. But I notice now, Marcus. I notice everything."

He's shaking. Actually shaking. "If you say one word—"

"You'll what? Throw another coffee mug at me?" I laugh, and the sound surprises even me. It's not my normal nervous giggle. It's dark. Dangerous. "Go ahead. See what happens."

For ten seconds, we stare at each other. I can hear his heart pounding. I can smell his fear-sweat. My new senses are incredible—like being deaf my whole life and suddenly hearing music.

"Get out," he finally whispers.

"Gladly." I turn to leave, then stop. "Oh, and Marcus? Sleep well tonight. You're going to need your rest."

I walk out of his office and back to my desk. My hands aren't shaking. My stomach isn't churning. I feel powerful. In control. Like I could do anything.

Sarah from the next cubicle leans over. "Girl, what did you say to him? He looks like he saw a ghost."

"Just having an honest conversation." I boot up my computer and something amazing happens. The screen shows our company's financial database—protected by passwords I shouldn't know. But somehow, I do know them. My fingers type the codes without thinking. Access granted.

I stare at the screen. This is it. Proof of everything Marcus has done. I could print this out right now. Send it to the police. Destroy him completely.

But that would be too easy. Too quick.

The darkness inside me purrs with satisfaction. It wants something more. Something that hurts.

"Cressida?" Sarah touches my arm. "You okay? You're smiling kind of weird."

I blink and close the database. "Fine. Just thinking about lunch."

The rest of the morning is surreal. I finish a week's worth of work in two hours. Complex financial reports that used to take me days now make perfect sense. I spot errors in documents from three years ago. I understand tax codes I've never studied.

It's like someone downloaded genius-level intelligence directly into my brain.

At lunch, I sit in the break room and listen. Really listen. I can hear Jenny crying in the bathroom two rooms away. I can hear Marcus on the phone in his office, talking to his wife while he texts his girlfriend. I can hear Tom from marketing placing bets online during work hours.

Everyone has secrets. Everyone has sins. And I can sense all of them now.

"Is this seat taken?" A male voice interrupts my thoughts.

I look up. There's a man I've never seen before standing by my table. He's gorgeous—dark copper hair, and his eyes are two different colors. One green, one gold. He's wearing expensive clothes and carrying a coffee cup.

"It's empty," I say slowly. Something about him makes my new senses tingle. Not guilt exactly. Something else. Something bright and sharp that hurts to look at.

"Thanks." He sits down across from me. "You work here? I'm visiting from the Seattle office."

"We don't have a Seattle office."

His smile doesn't falter. "Right. My mistake. I meant Portland."

Liar. He's lying, and I can feel it. But why would a stranger lie about which office he's from?

"I'm Thaddeus Corwin." He extends his hand.

I shake it. His grip is firm and warm. The moment our skin touches, I see something impossible—a flash of white light, of wings, of something ancient and powerful wrapped around him like a second skin.

I jerk my hand back.

"You okay?" he asks, but his eyes are studying me. Analyzing me. Like I'm a puzzle he's trying to solve.

"Fine." My heart is racing now. "I should get back to work."

"Of course." He stands when I do. "Maybe I'll see you around, Cressida."

I freeze. "I never told you my name."

His smile gets wider. "I heard your coworker say it. Sarah, right?"

Another lie. Sarah never said my name. She called me "girl."

I leave the break room fast, my mind spinning. Who is Thaddeus Corwin? Why can I see something bright and powerful around him when everyone else just shows guilt? And why was he looking for me specifically?

I get back to my desk and try to focus on work, but I can't stop thinking about those mismatched eyes. About that flash of wings.

My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number.

"You felt it, didn't you? The light around the man who just spoke to you? That's celestial energy. He's hunting you, Cressida. The angels know what you are now. And they've sent someone to kill you before you become too dangerous. Run."

The phone slips from my shaking hands and clatters onto my desk.

I look up. Across the office, standing in the hallway outside the break room, Thaddeus Corwin is watching me.

He's not smiling anymore.

And in his hand, hidden inside his jacket, I see the outline of something long and sharp.

A weapon.

He knows what I am. And he's here to end me.