Page 57 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Mor’s flesh tightened, his vision melting to a shade of red. Violet washissecretary. His responsibility now. And she’d been in Luc’s clutches, possibly more times than she realized. Luc had been playing games with her—the same way he’d played games with rebellious Shadow Fairies in their Army division.

Luc licked the sweet bits of ice cream from his lips as his smile faded. “I imagine only one faeborn Shadow Fairy will leave this street alive today. Let’s get it over with so I can be on my way.”

Mor reached behind him for his fairsaber handles as he drew closer to the fox. “Don’t hold anything back.” Mor eyed Luc’s pocket, waiting for him to draw out his ruby. “Give me your best fight—”

“But, Trisencor,” Luc scratched his head, feigning bafflement, “aren’t you wondering why no one you care about is dead yet?”

“I’m not interested.” Mor let his blades slide out from their handles to prove it.

“You might be,” Luc challenged. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out where your High Court was hiding? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to identify your allies simply because you had kept your distance from that café?”

A rock sank through Mor’s stomach. “My… what?”

“Your watchdog raised his spear at me in the street. You might have been careful to mask your scent all this time, but you never told that fool to mask his. I walked right up to Fae Café’s front door. I almost went in too, but the strangest thing happened.” Luc glanced off in supposed bewilderment. “A human girl came out. What did she say her name was again?” He snapped his fingers. “Ah, that’s right!Lily Baker.”

Mor dropped one of his fairsabers and grabbed a fistful of Luc’s collar.

Luc only grinned. “I bet that’s her real name, too. I wonder if she’d walk into the harbour for me and drown herself if I told her to,” he said.

Mor’s blade found Luc’s throat. Terrible thoughts of murder surged through his mind until a familiar voice brushed over him.

“Actually, I wouldn’t, even if you said please,” she said.

Mor’s gaze ripped over to a blonde-haired human in a police uniform with her gun drawn. She had it aimed for Luc’s head and, sky deities, she looked ready to shoot. “I knew what you were the moment the wind blew your hair off your ears,” Lily said to the Shadow Fairy in Mor’s grip.

To Lily’s credit, Luc seemed surprised to see her there. But his surprise wouldn’t save her. Mor was about to shout for Lily to run, but Luc spoke first. “Lily Bak—”

Mor punched his mouth with the hilt of his weapon.

Luc grunted and drew a fairsaber, the blade forming and swinging all in one motion. It nearly sliced Mor’s head clean off. Mor ducked and blocked, picking up his other handle and forging the blade while attempting a stab at Luc’s midsection. But the fox kicked him backward, and Mor was caught by a pair of strong hands.

“Queensbane, Mor. Is this the sort of humiliating nonsense you’ve been up to?” Cress’s icy voice took up every ounce of space in Mor’s ears.

“No…” he whispered. “No, no, no!”Mor spun to see the Prince of the North Corner for himself.

There Cress stood, his dark turquoise gaze sailing past him and locking onto Luc. Cress’s gold and silver fairsaber handle was in his hand.

Luc surveyed Cress with a strange look. It was possibly the first time Mor had seen the ruthless Shadow Fairy hesitate. Luc had never crossed Prince Cressica Alabastian in person, but it would not stop him from recognizing who Cress was.

“Lily, leave.” Cress’s words were cold.

Lily glanced at him, and her gun wavered. She looked like she might protest—but she obeyed. She jogged down the street toward the police car parked on the curb where her partner waited.

“Cress.” The name cracked in Mor’s throat as he looked at the one fairy he didnotwant to see, now doomed alongside him. “You should not have come here!” he rasped through his teeth.

Power rippled ever so slightly off Cress’s skin. The tension in the air was suffocating, and Mor tightened his grip on his swords, preparing to flood Luc with a thousand cold iron stabs. There was no letting the fox get away alive now after what he had seen.

But Cress spoke before Mor could move.

“How about brunch?” he said. It was the most unexpected suggestion said in the darkest, most cruel voice.

“No,” Mor growled.

“You’re out of time, Mor.” Cress finally tore his gaze off Luc long enough to settle it on him. “You knew I was coming to handle this,” he said.

Luc still stared; his smile gone. He seemed to weigh his odds as he sized Cress up. Calculating how he might run Cress through. But instead of stabbing, he said, “What an excellent idea, Prince Cressica.”

Three tense fairies were led to a table in the corner of the breakfast diner with a view of the harbour. Mor and Cress took seats on one side, and Luc took a seat on the other against the wall. Mor looked around at all the humans. Humans that would run in terror if this brunch did not go well, and chances were, it wouldn’t.

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