“Yes.” Luc lifted his coffee and took his first sip. He gagged. “This is black,” he stated. “It’s horrid.”
Mor let out a long breath. He took the coffee back and mixed in some sugar and cream. When he returned with Luc’s coffee, it was clear the quiet barista had something to say. So, Luc tried his drink while he waited. This time, it was delicious.
“I still don’t think I can trust you,” Mor admitted. “And I’m not sure what to do about it, since we’ve established I can’t kill you. And I’m worried that grumpy fool has actually taken a liking to you, which is absurd.”
“Ah.” Luc nodded. “It’s absurd to you because you abandon people, Trisencor. Dranian, on the other hand, is loyal.” He took another sip of his coffee and stood from the stool. “And no, you can’t trust me. Not with anything—except, you can trust me with Dranian. Someday I might even prove it to you.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a few pebbles for payment. “Here. Put these in the register and tell whoever asks that they’re gold.”
Mor blinked slowly. “I’m not doing that,” he said.
Luc shrugged. “Your loss.”
In one sweep, Mor flicked all the pebbles off the counter. They splattered onto the floor and bounced everywhere.
“Queensbane, what is this mess?” A low voice filled the café, and Luc beheld the great Cressica Alabastian emerging from the staircase in an exceptional, perfectly tailored navy suit. The Prince looked like one of the rich characters in a TV series as he fiddled with his cuffs, as he glided over the floor, as a sunbeam soared through the window like a spotlight, and Luc could have sworn a gust of wind breathed across the room and fluttered Cress’s shiny hair in slow, wispy motions. Music came from somewhere too, and Luc was sure no moment could be this flawless without magic.
Luc’s smile broadened. The North High Prince was perfect.
The idiot was in for a great surprise.
“Look at me in this suit. I think I’ll wear this every day, Mor,” Cress stated, too self-absorbed to notice Luc standing there.
“If you get one drop of pie on that suit, Cress, you’ll lose your mind and we’ll all be hearing about it until Spring. Take it off and don’t you dare put it back on again until your wedding,” Mor scolded. He yanked the pie plate away before Cress could get it, and Luc frowned. “Promise me,” Mor demanded, holding the pie at bay.
Cress sighed loudly. “Fine. I won’t.”
Luc grunted a laugh. He knew a lying face when he saw one. He sipped his coffee as he turned to go, and he glanced over at the clock beside the calendar on the wall, calculating the long journey through the wind ahead of him.
He’d just pushed his way outside when he overheard Mor murmur to Cress, “I told Dranian to move out of his apartment. I told him he could live with me.”
The door slid closed, but Luc’s delicate ears tilted back to hear Cress reply, “Dranian can handle himself.” Cress sounded distracted, like he was still ogling at his suit. “He’ll tell us if he needs us, Mor. We all have an agreement now to not keep secrets, and Dranian is easy to interrogate. Also—he hates your cathedral.”
Luc stepped to the side, keeping out of sight of the Fae Café windows. He waited. He wasn’t sure why; he had a place to be.
“I suppose,” Mor replied. “But I’m just nervous with Dranian after he went against those Shadow Fairies on his own. I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened to any one of you and I wasn’t there to do something about it.”
Luc’s fingers curled around a brick in the wall at his back. He accidentally broke a chunk off and it smashed to the sidewalk. A middle-aged human female started as she walked by until Luc flashed her a sweet smile filled with fox charm. She relaxed and dipped her head in greeting, blushing as she left.
Once she was gone, Luc closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the wall, and sucked in a slow lungful of air.
What a herd of losers.
Their barefoot friend was flirting with death, likely going to die. And now Luc was going to be the heartless fool who’d stared Mor in the eyes and hadn’t said anything about it.
“Why do all these North Fairies keep ruining my life?” he asked the sky deities.
He had no interest in helping or saving the High Court of the Coffee Bean. But maybe there was a tedious, ever-whining part of him that sort of wanted to prove something.
When Luc peeled his eyes open, his gaze settled on the bakery across the street where fresh loaves were being wrestled into plastic bags and placed on shelves. He was getting a little tired of using enchantments on everything, but one last one wouldn’t hurt.
12
Shayne Lyro and the Fox
Two days left.
Shayne could not believe Luc. He couldn’t believe that self-centred fox stole his note, read his secret, andstillbrought Cress and Mor here. That he hadn’t even seen the error of his ways or apologized now that Kate, Greyson, and Violet were alone and in danger of being approached. In fact, the moment everyone agreed to switch locations so the House of Lyro might not track them, Luc disappeared. He must have thought no one was watching—but Shayne saw it.
The fox returned thirty minutes later and slipped into the back of the group.