Page 114 of Dark Rover's Gift

"I understand Din's frustration," she said. "I also wish I could do more. My stupid bar tricks feel pretty worthless compared to what you're doing."

"Your 'stupid bar tricks' make people happy," Din said, reaching for her hand. "That's not worthless. That's... that's necessary. We need joy to balance the darkness."

"A drunk philosopher," Max observed. "The most annoying kind."

"Better than a belligerent drunk," Din shot back.

"I'm not belligerent. I'm righteously determined."

"You're both ridiculous," Fenella said, but she was smiling.

The banter was helping, easing the knot of tension in her chest. Tomorrow night, Max and the other Guardians would risk their lives to save thousands. Tonight, she could pour drinks and pretend the world wasn't teetering on a knife edge.

"One more round," Max said. "Then I really need to get some sleep."

She wondered why Kyra was letting him get drunk in the first place, and why she wasn't there to keep an eye on him, butperhaps because she was a fighter herself, she understood that he needed this.

"One more," Fenella agreed, reaching for the bottle. As she poured, she caught Din watching her with those intense eyes that seemed less clouded than they should be, given the copious amounts of whiskey he'd consumed.

"What?" she asked.

"I love you," he said.

She smiled, the words she wanted to say in return lodged in her throat like always, held there by irrational fear. Instead, she leaned across the bar and kissed him, tasting whiskey and promise.

"I know," she whispered against his lips.

Max cleared his throat. "Still here. Still conscious. Still not interested in watching you two make out."

Fenella pulled back with a smirk. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Just save it for when I'm gone." He downed his whiskey in one go and stood, swaying slightly on his feet. "And on that note, I'm out of here before Kyra sends a search party after me."

"Max," Fenella called after him as he neared the door. When he turned back, she said, "Be safe."

His cocky grin softened into something more genuine. "Always am, love. Always am."

After Max left, the bar felt too quiet without him, too empty with just the two of them and Atzil cleaning up in the kitchen.

"He's going to be fine," Din said, though she wasn't sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

"I know." She didn't, not really, but what else could she say? That she was scared? That the thought of losing any of them made her throat clog with panic?

"Close up time," Atzil called. "You two don't look like you'll be any help cleaning tonight. Do you need help getting home?"

"I'm fine," Din said, though his attempt to stand suggested otherwise.

Fenella rounded the bar and slipped under his arm, steadying him. "Come on, Professor. Let's get you home." She cast Atzil an apologetic glance. "Sorry about not helping, boss. I can come back after I put Din in bed."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Get your man home."

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