Page 59 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

Something blocked the light of his doorway after he came in. He turned to find Luc standing there with his arms folded.

“What in the name of the sky deities would make you think I would go to Fae Café, of all places? Hmm?” A large scowl took up most of his face.

“Because Mor wants to know if you’re alive,” Dranian said,and Luc’s face changed. “And because the next part of my plan involves you.”

Dranian’s room filled the with the sound of Luc’s snort-laugh. “You made plans forme? I think I’m finished with letting others make plans and expecting me to fulfil them. I might as well have stayed in the Army if I wanted to do that.”

“I saved you,” Dranian said, “so come to Fae Café this one time. For Mor.”

He turned to face Luc, waiting for his decision.

Luc glared a little. The fox slid his jaw back and forth. He looked off.

Dranian tuned Luc out after several minutes. Luc grumbled the whole way through the apartment, the whole way down the hall and descending the stairs, the whole way down the sidewalk, and for the whole bus ride. He never offered to airslip them to the café so they’d get there faster. He even made Dranian pay his bus fee.

Finally, halfway through the bus ride, Dranian said, “Closure is important when it comes to things that are broken.”

Luc’s grumbling went quiet. The fox’s glare drilled into the side of Dranian’s head. “Are you trying to therapist me?” he asked in disbelief. “I cannot be therapist-ed. I study others and therapist them when necessary. Or sometimes I kill them if it becomes too annoying, but either way, everyone I cross ends up resting in peace one wayor another.”

“Except Mor,” Dranian mumbled. Then, a little brighter, he said, “It doesn’t matter anyway. Letting Mor know you’re alive is only half the reason we’re going. I’m sure by now Lily has called the others and told them of my mischief—”

Luc raised a brow. “Mischief? That’s not the word I would use.”

“—and so, I’m to deal with that first, and my plan second.”

Luc rolled his eyes and rested his face against his fist. “These seats are far too close together. I can hardly breathe.”

The bus slowed to a stop and the two fairies exited. Dranian led the way down the block, tugging his jacket tighter as the chilly wind swept down the street, picking up dry leaves and tossing them about. He followed the scent of fresh baking and lattes to Fae Café’s front door.

“You might like the coffee here.” Even though Dranian spoke with little enthusiasm, he meant it. “It’s—”

“Oh, stop. I’m going to hate it.” Luc yanked his own coat tighter and folded his arms as Dranian opened the door.

When he came in, Dranian took inventory of the dozen or so human customers milling about or seated at tables and engaged in quiet chatter. Cress came out of the kitchen in a burgundy apron and stopped just outside the kitchen’s new swinging doors.

Dranian loosened his collar and swallowed, sure he could taste phantom rocks on his tongue. But he cleared his throat and went to meet his former Prince. While keeping eye contact, Cress drewhis phone out of his pocket and hit a button with his thumb. He lifted it to his ear slowly as Dranian approached, and he mumbled something into it.

Mor suddenly appeared behind the counter with apop, and a few humans shrieked from their tables. Mor looked past Dranian. He kept his gaze on Luc for a moment, not revealing anything, and then brought his attention back to Dranian again. There wasn’t necessarily relief on his face, but his shoulders relaxed a little.

Suddenly, Mor smiled. Not in a kind,“It’s alright, we forgive you,”way, but in a way like he felt the need to laugh and was doing everything in his faeborn power tonotlaugh. “Did you really fight my old Shadow Army division with one arm?” he asked, and Cress growled.

“Don’t make this funny, Mor!” he shouted. “I said no more secrets! And I said we weren’t going to get involved in the fox fight! And I said… all kinds of other important things that I can’t remember at the moment!”

Mor smothered away his grin. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled to Cress. “I just can’t stop picturing it.”

“You could have been slaughtered, you faeborn-cursed fool!” Cress roared at Dranian. He marched across the last of the open space and put his finger in Dranian’s face. “You are lucky there are no amethyst salt mines in the human realm!” His cold glare cut over to Luc. “And what is that wretched fox doing here? He’s filling my café with the horrid stench of Shadow Fairies!”

Mor’s face fell. “Careful,” he said, “I’m aShadow, too.”

Cress had sniffed with ample drama. “Nope. It’s not you, Mor.” He glared at Luc again.

“I don’t smell like Shadow Fairies.” Luc finally entered the conversation. Dranian glanced back to find him leaning against a table where two young, female humans blinked up at him. “My fragrance is sweet and alluring, in case you haven’t noticed.” He glanced down at one of the females. “Isn’t that right?” he asked her, pulling his heart-shaped lips into a handsome smile.

One female blushed; the other giggled.

Cress made a face that looked as though he might barf on the café floor.

“You’re right Mor, I’ve had a busy day,” Dranian said, turning back. “And that’s why I’ve decided to go on a vacation. I’ll be leaving soon, and I’ll… send you a human post card.” He looked over at the cookie painting on the wall so that Mor would not see that he was lying through his teeth.

---