Poison Tree Read Free Page A

she had worked in SingleEarth’s IT department. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t much challenge in it, because it was just a job, an excuse to keep up to date and fill the time before she moved on. This new job, working as a mediator at Haven #4, wasn’t glorious, either, but it was an entry-level position on SingleEarth’s crisis team, where someone like Alysia could really make a long-term career.
    Long-term. Career. There are two concepts I never thought I’d be interested in
.
    Yet here she was, standing in the middle of nowhere while the brisk December wind cut through her, despite her jacket and gloves. Most of the trees in the forest around her were pine, but there were enough bare branches and old, fallen leaves to give it a tired feel.
    Haven #4 was set in the woods of western Massachusetts like some kind of bizarre college campus. The buildings were connected with old-fashioned cobbled paths that always made Alysia wonder why an organization dedicated to peace and inclusiveness for all creatures who lived alongside humanity—shapeshifters, witches, vampires, and other oddities Alysia had only ever heard of—couldn’t design a Haven that was wheelchair-friendly.
    Of course, Alysia had never met a witch, shapeshifter, or vampire with mobility issues. The witches had even been able to mostly fix Alysia’s bum knee, which had gone to hell again after she’d spent hours kneeling on the floor of the Café au Late. She flexed it now experimentally and hoped she would not need to climb too many stairs to move in. The witches could bring down the recent swelling, but magic could not undo scars that her body now accepted as part of itself.
    Her introspective pause gave the welcome wagon time to arrive, in the form of two Haven #4 mediators. They reintroduced themselves warmly, as if they were not all standing under an ominous winter sky.
    Alysia had looked up the files of her soon-to-be coworkers, so she knew that the young-looking girl who called herself Lynzi had been in SingleEarth since the 1960s and had been walking the planet Earth for almost a thousand years beforethat. The woman with her was Sarik kuloka Mari, a tiger shapeshifter. The word
“kuloka”
translated to “of the tribe,” but Mari wasn’t a real Mistari tribe; it was the name adopted by the few tigers who had abandoned the Mistari homeland and culture and chosen instead to live as citizens of the United States.
    Sarik’s features were the striking blend of African and Asian common among tiger shapeshifters, but she had straightened and lightened her hair so it was a shade paler than Alysia’s, and the makeup and clothing she wore dulled her honey-colored, almond-shaped tiger eyes and hid a body built to turn heads. Even her perfume was something subtle and floral, appropriate for a woman whose job was to make people trust her.
    Alysia didn’t discriminate much by species. At that moment, the important part was that the two nonhuman girls were probably each able to bench-press Alysia’s weight one-handed. That was nice, since Alysia had not been looking forward to lugging her belongings inside with only human strength and a bad knee.
    “This is all you have?” Sarik asked as she and Lynzi maneuvered a large trunk out of the back of the car. The trunk was too bulky for any one person to carry easily, even if it didn’t weigh a ton, but Sarik and Lynzi together were able to manage it. Alysia took her laptop bag and a large duffel containing mostly computer peripherals, which left only one large suitcase behind.
    “I’m not much of a material girl,” Alysia replied. Someone from Haven #1 had taught her the term. Some peopleconnected it to spirituality and some people connected it to Madonna, but one way or another, they tended to smile or chuckle when Alysia used it.
    Alysia’s apartment was on the second floor. Lynzi unlocked the door and handed Alysia the key as she explained, “It’s nothing fancy, but Haven Number Four is