Page 22 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

“I heard your treachery. What fool would dare follow your human? It’s an insult to your very existence as her forever mate, Mor. You should pluck the fairy’s eyeballs out one by one and then crush them to jelly and make them eat—”

“Queensbane, Cress. Not in front of Kate,” Mor murmured as Kate came trotting through the open cathedral doors with two trays of coffee and baked treats.

Cress scowled a little, but he obeyed. He turned to take one of the trays when Kate reached him. “I’ll go bring Violet her coffee!” Kate offered. She bounded up the stairs and Mor turned back to Cress.

“How did you get past my door? I had it locked,” he seemed to realize.

Cress shrugged and examined his nails. “How do you think I broke into all our foe’s dwellings to unleash the fury of the North Corner?”

Mor eyed him suspiciously. “Do you have a spell-key?” he asked, and Cress looked at him doubtfully.

“Absolutely not. Those aren’t real, Mor. Stop reading fairy folklore books from the library.”

“Where did you get it?” Mor asked, scanning Cress’s shirt, pants, shoes… There weren’t many places to hide a key.

Cress rolled his turquoise eyes. “I told you I don’t have one. I’m just the North Corner’s greatest assassin, and I—”

“Is it in your shoe?” Mor kicked the side of Cress’s heel with his toe to feel for bubbly spots or hidden spaces.

Cress jumped back a little, spilling a few drips of coffee, and Mor smiled. “Your shoe, then. That’s a terrible hiding spot. I’m going to steal it from you,” he promised.

Cress grunted and moved for the stairs to follow Kate. But he paused. He turned back, and he raised a brow. “Who were you just talking to Lily about? Your rhythms are all off. I haven’t seen you this nervous since…” He paused to think.

“Since two months ago,” Mor finished for him, his smile fading. “With Luc.”

Cress came back down a step.

Mor folded his arms and kicked a clump of dust on the floor. “I told Luc I’d give him one chance to leave. That’s why I wasn’t going to say anything. Please don’t tell the others. Queensbane, I wasn’t even planning to tell you.”

“Well, everyone knows you’re bad at keeping secrets. It’s the fox’s fault for trusting you,” Cress said, and Mor shot him a look. Cress released an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We won’t meddle with him if he doesn’t meddle with us. But don’t tellDranian the fox is back. The fool is already heated about his arm being stolen. He won’t handle it well.”

Mor nodded. “He’d probably go on a hunt through the night or some other absurd thing.”

A cool breeze brushed through the cathedral, driving a shiver up Mor’s spine. Cress headed the rest of the way up the stairs, but Mor remained, looking out the doors to the city, pondering. The topic of “secrets” put another thought into the forefront of his faeborn mind.

He slid his phone back out, looking at the call history. Looking at Lily’s number.

Everyone trusted Lily to a fault. But the truth was that Shayne had been onto something before he left. It wasn’t the first time the barefoot trinket thief had been right when accusing someone of hiding a big, often dangerous secret. Mor saw people’s feelings in a way others didn’t, but there were times when he truly wondered if Shayne actually “saw people” better.

Lily was spending long hours at work these days, yet Shayne claimed he’d once stopped in at Lily’s office and she wasn’t there. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time, but now that Mor thought it through, the human often came home smelling of unfamiliar materials. Metals instead of sweat.

Mor dragged a hand through his hair. Maybe he was reaching, fabricating a story in his own mind of something that didn’t exist. He glanced up toward his office where the sounds of Cress telling Violet about the improvements to his new cookbook emerged.

Mor could be gone and back before they even realized he’d left.

Mor’s feet landed on the sidewalk in a gentle whisper. Cold air nipped at his bare arms as he looked both ways. He marched up to the human police station and swung wide the door, the wind tossing his hair every which way. A few officers glanced up at him when he came in—possibly recognizing him since he’d barged in and demanded their help only months ago—but most of them seemed distracted with work.

Human criminals and victims alike lined up at various desks, waiting their turn, all crowded in, complaining and shouting and shoving. It was an absolute wildlife park, worse than a disorganized hogbeast farm. It was nearly enough to make him turn and leave again, but instead he scanned the desks for a pretty, tattooed female.

When he spotted Lily’s desk, he found it vacant.

Mor weaved through the congested human bodies. He reached her desk, brows coming together as he took note of the turned-off lamp, the pushed in chair, and the absence of her coat on its hook. Papers were stacked neatly to the side, and a series of books rested by the tray of buttons for her computer. Mor slowly spun the top volume toward himself so he might read the title.

“You can’t touch Baker’s stuff.” A voice stoppedMor before he could flip the volume open. He slowly lifted his fingers off and turned around.

A stout officer stood there. One Mor didn’t recognize, but the officer seemed to recognize Mor as he blinked up at him.

“Ah, you’re Baker’s friend,” he said with a nod. “She’s not in today. She switched shifts with me.”

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