Page 21 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

With that, Mor vanished. He appeared on the sidewalk far below, and Luc didn’t follow. He watched Mor cross the road to the cathedral. The enchanted doors swung open for him and slammed shut again once he was inside.

Luc rubbed his temples.

It wasn’t impossible to avoid the Army division and stay hidden. It would just be a challenge.

A challenge he would have to endure every time the seasons changed and the Shadows returned for a report from him they would never get. They would send a new liaison to replace him eventually. Luc would have to avoid that fool as well. Or kill him off. Only to have the Dark Queene send another one.

It would be an endless process, constantly disrupting Luc’s life. He could have fled to a faraway land like he’d originally intended, but…

He turned and glanced back down at the cathedral as a weight formed in his stomach. As much as the Shadows bargained, they couldn’t be trusted to keep their word. And if the Dark Queene ever found out that a black-marked peasant-turned-army-deserter was still alive, she would force the Shadows to find a way around the bargain and brutally kill Mor. He wouldn’t even see it coming.

Luc growled at himself and spun away to march across the roof.

Yes, he hated himself. More than normal today.

There were few things he cared about in this faeborn life anymore. Why did Mor Trisencor have to be one of them?

He stepped into the air, gliding past colours and potent city smells, heading back toward his apartment after all. As he slipped, he considered that the Shadow Army division must have known Luc was enemies of the Coffee Bean’s High Court. Therefore, if the High Court of the Coffee Bean really had made a bargain with the division, then the last place the division would think to look for Luc was right at Dranian Evelry’s side.

And that led him to recall the most baffling part of his conversation with Mor. Not only did Draniannottell Mor that Luc was alive, Mor still had no idea Dranian was living with him. And Mor had just promised not to tell his allies of Luc’s existence as well.

Despite the dire situation, Luc laughed. Because what was possibly the funniest part about all of this was that the High Court of the Coffee Bean—the supposed band of loyal brothers—were all keeping secrets from each other.

9

Mor Trisencor and the Creepies

It was a truly remarkable fall, with bright yellows, crisp oranges, and rusty reds speckling the streets, and the smells of pumpkin and spice lingering in the air. It was cozy—a time for knit sweaters and stolen slippers and long books read by the fire.

It was a time when the human Mor cared for became the most adorable. Violet despised being cold, and the cathedral was rarely warm with its hole-punched walls and creaky boards and constant drafts. She came in daily wearing a smart business outfit of blouse and heels, yet she also layered at least one sweater over top, sometimes two. And on some unusual and rare occasions, she added tall stockings up to her knees over her pants.

It was so fascinating that Mor had started secretly taking pictures of her in the mornings. He planned to make a calendar of her most preposterous outfits so she might be able to stare at them every month when he inevitably hung it up in the office.

It was all too sweet, too precious.

Far too important to have Luc arrive on his doorstep and threaten it all.

Mor marched up to the office to peek inside. Violet sat at her desk with her feet up, sipping on a steaming tea, bundled in a high-collared sweater with a blanket tossed over her lap. She was reading over the article Jase had written on the weekend.

After ensuring she was safe, Mor slid his phone from his pocket and headed down the hall as he poked buttons for a series of numbers he knew off by heart. He put the phone to his ear and waited as it rang on the other end.

“Hello?” Lily’s voice filled the device.

“Can you keep an eye on Violet for the next few days when she’s going to and from work? I think she’s being followed,” Mor said.

“What? Seriously? By whom?” Lily sounded strangely loud, like she was carrying something heavy and had the phone pinched between her shoulder and ear.

“I can’t tell you. Can’t you just follow her for a bit? And make sure you’re subtle. I don’t want her to know—”

Mor turned around to find a deadly-eyed fairy prince with a few tiny crumbs around his mouth and a splotch offlour on the shoulder of his t-shirt. Cress blinked slowly.

Lily’s sigh filled Mor’s ear. “I’m a bit busy at work right now, Mor. I have a lot to do—”

“I’ll call you later,” Mor said to Lily and hung up.

Cress folded his arms and tapped a finger against his bicep. “You know, Mor, quite recently you accused me of being easy to sneak up on. How ridiculous you must feel now.”

“Did you hear that?” Mor asked, shoving his phone away.

---