Page 150 of Ulune's Daughter

He fits anywhere. Campus. Court. I’ve always tried to be inconspicuous. Law shapes the world around him.

I pull out my phone and text him, aware I’m being ridiculous.

Miss you already.

Lawson: I’m turning around.

No. I have office hours. See you at 5.

Lawson: I want a date tonight.

Dinner with your family?

Lawson: No. You + me. No parents. No pool boy.

Stop calling him pool boy. Yes on the date.

Lawson: See you at 5. I love you. You don’t need to say it back.

But I do.

I love you.

He sends me back a clip of him falling back into our bed, his hand clutched dramatically over his heart.

I save it as proof that he can be silly and playful. Also, because he’s naked. That man gets his clothes off faster than anyone I’ve ever met. Very good quality in a man.

Even though I’m not teaching a course this semester, I’ve been holding office hours at the same time as Jane’s, three times a week. Her Necromancy seminar students can pop next door if they have questions for me. Students considering taking my spring classes can get to know me. There have been a few times when no one has come and I’ve used the time to work on the series of papers chronicling the Isla Cedros dig. I’d planned five papers, starting with my identification of the first artifacts and ending with the exhibit design. I’ve published three and wouldn’t mind getting four and five done before Yule so Luca and I can focus on translations in the spring.

Luca’s handling the first of the Sulis Minerva translation papers, which is actually going live today. But I’d like to help him after Yule, particularly as we develop any link between the Scilla sarcophagus and the cup.

Unfortunately, today is not one of those days when I’m left to my own devices. There’s a steady stream of students through my office door. Reading period starts tomorrow with finals at the end of the week; the range of questions they bring is impressive even by neurotic senior standards.

The flow tapers off toward lunch, ending with a purple-haired girl who quizzes me about undead wards for a solid fifteen minutes. I’m contemplating poking my head next door to see if Jane wants to join me for lunch when there’s another knock on my open office door and Rowan walks in, closing the door behind him.

I blink hard, hoping he’s a hallucination. I haven’t seen him since the exhibit’s general opening. I wasn’t even aware he was still in Bevington. Surely he didn’t come all the way from California for my office hours? Rowan’s on the traditional side but even he knows how to video call.

“Rowan?”

He smiles; his teeth look too small now that I’m used to Lawson’s fangs. He strolls around my office, peering at the spines of my books, the small crystals and artifacts from Isla Cedros that I use as bookends.

“How closely do you supervise your TA, Kells?” he asks.

I frown at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The Cait Sidhe. The one who thinks he’s the Joker. How closely have you been monitoring his activities?”

I grind my teeth. Rowan’s clearly here because he thinks Luca’s done something wrong. Before Italy, I might have made assumptions, jumped to conclusions. Men in my field have consistently dicked me over. But not Luca.

“I have complete faith and confidence in Luca,” I say, picking up the crystal knife, which is shimmying around in my wire in-box.

“Do you?” Rowan sneers. “Perhaps you shouldn’t. What’s your relationship with him?”

I narrow my eyes at my former lover and current pain-in-the-ass. “He’s my research assistant.”

“I understand after speaking to Professor Dybo at Sapienza that you took him with you to Italy. On an unscheduled and unauthorized field trip. Where you stayed overnight. Together.”

He’s full of shit. Luca’s a legal adult. I paid for everything in Italy; I haven’t even bothered seeking reimbursement. We had separate hotel rooms. Admittedly, I shared mine with his brother, but I’ve covered my bases on that score. When I got back from Italy, I reported my relationship with a student’s family member to the Academic Standards committee. Luca’s not getting course credit for being my TA—not that he needs it—so the committee just barred him from taking any of my classes.

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