Page 75 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Shayne shook his head and looked down at his coffee. “Apologies, Human, but Mor made it clear he didn’t want me to tell you anything—not that I know anything important. I’m surprised he even brought you back here again after what happened last time, even though I told him already that it wasn’t my fault.” He drank the last gulps of his coffee, then scowled. “It seems like no one around here even respects the opinions of a High King.”

Violet chewed on her lip. She wrang her fingers together and kicked the underside of the counter island. “I remember something,” she said. “About my past.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Shayne turned away and reached for the coffee pot. He poured himself another full drink and began scooping inheapsof sugar. He finished it off with enough milk to turn the coffee beige.

The memory flooded in with wisps of colours, sounds, and smells, and Violet’s mouth went dry. “I remember being harassed by people who look like you and Mor. With sharp ears,” she whispered.

Shayne slowed his coffee stirring, the spoon dangling from his frozen fingers.

“I remember being in a strange place with gold fruit and a bright green lake,” she added.

Shayne dropped the spoon against the rim of the mug. He twisted on the stool to face her.

“I was dragged into a black cave and told to eat flowers. They wanted me to dance to weird music—”

“Siren song,” Shayne whispered, more to himself, like he was reliving a memory of his own from long ago.

Violet sat up straighter. “You know where I’m talking about?” It was a plea. She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or terrified that the place from her dream existed.

Shayne slowly nudged his coffee away like his thirst had died. “No wonder Mor seemed so strange.” He scratched his chin. Suddenly, he slapped a hand over his eyes and moaned. “This isn’t good, Human,” he said.

Violet sank into her seat. “What isn’t?” She hadn’t even told Shayne the worst part yet.

“This is the exact sort of situation that will destroy Mor. I’m worried he’s just made avenging you his priority if he knows you were harmed by fairy folk like that.”

“Avenge…me?” she rasped. “I doubt it.”

“I’m relieved you’re leaving so you can stop getting in my way.”

Shayne lazily dropped a flat hand onto the counter. “Mor was right. I should have sent you to the Sisterhood as soon as you woke up like he asked. I can’t stay here and protect you, Human,” he said.

“What?” Dismay sank through Violet’s stomach. “You’re going to kick me out, too?”

Shayne flashed a dull smirk. “Never.” He stood and tugged her sleeve to pull her up with him. “But Mor is vulnerable, and that fox is likely going to use your past to rattle and trap him. I have to go help Cress and Mor. My brothers need me.” He guided her through the café and out the door.

Pudding splashed through the air outside in an arc. Shayne batted a macaron out of the way before it could hit him as he walked past Dranian. He pulled Violet across the road, right up to the Yarn & Stitch front door. He respectfully stepped aside to let a fairy woman pass with a fresh basket of desserts that were certainly meant to be used as ammo against Dranian.

“Here,” Shayne said to the knitters. He nudged Violet toward them, and Violet looked back at him in question. “You need to take her. I have other things to do.”

One of the women sat on the front step, blowing a bubble with her gum and watching the dessert battle while she knitted. She snorted. “What are we supposed to do with a human—”

Freida pushed out the front entrance, the door slapping the opposite wall from being opened aggressively. “Come in, Violet Miller,” she said.

Violet looked from Freida to Shayne. Shayne extended a hand toward the Yarn & Stitch like her next step should be obvious. She didn’t know how to tell him that she was meeting her interns at the cathedral and needed to leave immediately.

Violet slowly walked to Freida, who put an arm around her and brought her inside. She didn’t have a chance to look back at Shayne again before the door swung shut behind them. “Don’t get any ideas,” the old woman said. “The moment you step out of here, you’ll be taken by that nine tailed fox. He’s watching you, you know.”

Violet swallowed. She patted her pocket for her phone so she could call the interns who were likely already on their way to meet her at the cathedral. Maybe she could tell them to meet her at the Yarn & Stitch instead. But her hand stopped over her flat pockets. She held back a moan as she realized her phone was still in the apartment where she’d met Officer Baker.

She had to get out of here. She had to reach the interns. Now that she knew exactly who the serial-attacker was, she had to finish her story.

Gretchen lay across the coffee table in the same spot Violet had last seen her. The fairy woman’s eyes were closed, her limbs hanging limp. No wonder the knitters were mad at the baristas. They were probably the maddest at Mor.

Maybe they were mad at Violet, too, since she was the one Gretchen had been defending when Luc had stabbed her.

Violet moved in and sat by the table, taking Gretchen’s hand. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, even though she had no idea if Gretchen could hear. “I hate myself today,” she added. “For so many reasons.”

Freida went to an end table and poured a hot cup of tea. She added a few pinches of powder from bowls on the table and a large leaf. “Nonsense, Violet Miller. You only hate what others have told you about yourself. You are just fine the way you are.” She brought the tea over and set it on the coffee table. Violet stared at the antique teacup but didn’t touch it. “Drink this,” Freida instructed. “It will help with your stomach-ache, and I imagine it may also clear away some of your mind fog.”

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