Page 38 of Elven Shadow

Her first thought was that it had to do withher—that someone had already been watching her a little too closely and had chosen the worst possible moment to spill their findings to the rest of Shade’s members.

But these operatives didn’thidefrom each other. If anyone had an issue with her, they’d seek her out on their own. Probably.

This was something else. Some other reason for such an eerie silence in the mostly deserted common room.

More often than not, acting normal anyway and pretending not to have noticed generally coaxed the answers out one way or another. With zero other leads at this point, that was Rebecca’s only decent option.

So she took stock of the magicals whowerehere and continued across the enormous room like the last twenty-four hours hadn’t set off a chain reaction of unpredictable events she really needed to get in front of before they got in front of her first.

And then there reallywouldbe no way out.

Rebecca counted only four other magicals here this morning, which was practically zero in comparison.

So where the hellwaseveryone?

Moments after her budding suspicions got their hooks into her, she could no longer ignore—even above her hunger—the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting across the building toward her.

Might as well make herself a cup before starting her own private investigation. Excluding powerfully complex magical issues, shehaddiscovered long ago that very little in this world couldn’t be solved with a decent cup of coffee.

She headed toward the self-serve refreshment table beside Bor’s service window—the small section of the common room that made Shade’s entire headquarters building feel more like a four-star hotel with a continental breakfast included daily as part of their stay.

Whoever didn’t go straight for coffee first thing in the morning wouldn’t only brook suspicion in the majority of Shade members but would mark themselves as a magical of interest in Rebecca’s mind.

It was an instant red flag.

Even Aldous had his morning coffee every day, sent up to his private study overlooking the common room. The commander was of course entitled to wake up with a steaming mug in hand while lauding his extra privileges over the rest of them from above.

Rebecca snorted as she grabbed a Styrofoam cup off the table and filled it from the insulated carafe she had to pump at the top. Only Aldous could make even daily morning coffee an issue of rank and superior standing in a place like this.

In next went a healthy pour of cold cream from the slightly dented silver pitcher, followed by an imprecisely decadent pouring of sugar.

While she doctored up her caffeine, Rebecca occasionally glanced across the common room as brief bursts of flickering movement from the others caught her eye.

“Well slap my grandmama,” someone grumbled beside her. “You know what that is there, don’tcha?”

Rebecca stopped pouring a stream of sugar into her cup and looked for the owner of that voice before she noticed Bor glowering at her, his head poking out through the service window. She raised an eyebrow at him. “If you tell me it’s anything other than sugar, we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Not sugar? Please. You ask me, you alreadygota problem.” When the old giveldi blinked his beady eyes, the nasty battle scar crossing his forehead—from the right side of his hairline down, eradicating half his left eyebrow before ending in a cauliflowered knot of flesh that had once been his left ear—scrunched his face even more like a drawstring purse. “Never met an elf with a sweet tooth likethat.”

Adding another healthy pour of streaming sugar, Rebecca smirked at her cup, then exchanged the glass container for one of those little wooden stirring sticks also reminiscent of a hotel stay. Then she mixed it slowly all together and casually asked, “How many elveshaveyou met, old-timer?”

Bor grunted, still glowering as he nodded at her Styrofoam cup. “Enough to know that ain’t standard issue for your kind. Hell, I ain’t seen a single other soul pass by that table takes as much as you every single day.”

“Bet you haven’t seen any otherelvesat this table, either.”

More than seeing it, shefelthis gaze snap up to settle on her face.

It seemed Bor stared at her for a long time before finally deciding on a reply. “Oh, aye. Doesn’t make me wrong though.”

“No it doesn’t.” Rebecca slurped her first steaming sip of rich, dark, doctored-up caffeine and closed her eyes. She could give herself two seconds to savor a joyful moment that had nothing to do with missions, or Shade operations, or shitty commanders, or secrets.

Worth it.

Then she turned toward the giveldi still leaning halfway through the service window and raised her coffee toward him in the universally accepted morning salute. “It also means you make some damn fine coffee, Bor. Or I wouldn’t be here every day just for this.”

She offered the old-timer another gentle smile joined by an encouraging nod, then walked away from the drink station and service window to start her new personal mission right here in the common room.

Whether or not Bor recognized her words as a compliment, he glowered after her anyway, mumbling something that sounded a lot like any good cup of coffee didn't need a damn thing added to it.

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