“Elena had a rare way with them,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Stray dogs, broken horses. She could quiet them with a single touch. I haven’t seen that look in Bishop’s eyes since the night she died.”

I swallowed hard, the cold rain splashing onto the toes of my shoes.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” I said quietly.

Lucian didn’t acknowledge the sympathy.

“Where did you learn to do that?” he asked.

“I didn’t learn it,” I said. “Animals have just always been quiet around me. It’s not a trick.”

He stared at me, searching my face for any sign of a lie.

The rain seemed to grow heavier, a solid sheet of gray water separating us from the rest of the world.

I pulled my hand back from Bishop, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation.

The dog whimpered instantly, his front paws shifting on the wet tile as he tried to stay pressed against my leg.

“My shift is over,” I said, looking toward the heavy iron gate that led to the side street. “I need to go home.”