Page 61 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

“Oh, I definitely don’t want to get in the middle of this argument,” she said. She had no idea what had‘almost happened to Kate’,but she became acutely aware it must have been something terrible. “Feel free to finish your pleasant chat. I’ll be in the office.” She turned to go, but Mor materialized in her way at the top of the stairs.

“You’re already involved,” he said bitterly. “My brother is right.”

“Of course I am,” Shayne said from below as he picked nonexistent lint off his shoulder.

“Not about everything,” Mor shot back at him. He looked at Violet. “But he’s right about you. You shouldn’t be here with me.”

Shayne loudly sighed. “I’ll leave for now, Mor. Only so you can finish your lovers’ quarrel. Bring her to me when you change your mind and find your faeborn brain. I will protect her.” He kept talking as he walked up the stairs, passed them, and headed down the hall. He dipped into the office and came out with his crossbow and a handful of pens. “Also, I’m stealing these.” He waved the pens in the air for Mor to see. “They’re small and pocket sized, and I can’t resist.” He winked at Violet and headed down the hall toward the hidden stairs to the bell tower. “See you soon, Human,” he added.

Violet turned to Mor. “I shouldn’t have to point out how you leaving me with him ended last time.” She jutted her thumb after Shayne.

“That wasn’t my fault, that was Dranian’s!” Shayne’s voice boomed from down the hall, and Violet shut her mouth, baffled he’d heard what she said from that far away.

A crease formed between Mor’s brows, and he frowned. “I need to think.”

Violet grabbed his sleeve. Something heavy sank through her as she imagined him disappearing like when he left her at Fae Café. “What do you need to think about?” she asked. She sounded strangely like she was pleading. She didn’t know why she wanted to beg him to stay. Wanted him to talk his next move through with her. “We’re coworkers,” she reminded him. “We should come up with a plan together.”

Mor looked down. “You and I…” he started.

Violet inched in, waiting. She didn’t risk blinking, afraid she’d miss something on his face.

When Mor looked back up again, his expression was harder. “I went to your house and gathered your clothes. They’re on the bed in my room.” He took a hold of her covered wrist and tugged until her hand lost its grip on his sleeve and slipped off. “But maybe I shouldn’t have. I apologize, Violet, but things have changed.”

Violet’s mouth parted in disbelief. “Mor,” she tried again.

“Don’t wear those heels anymore. I bought you reasonable shoes. They’re with your other belongings.”

Mor took a step back. Violet couldn’t read his expression as he vanished in a wisp of wind, leaving her standing there with questions she could only ask the empty cathedral. She had a sinking feeling she’d just lost her job. And possibly more than that.

Cedric’s rash comments found her all over again as the realization settled in. As the familiar feeling of belonging nowhere waited just below the surface, threatening to sprout. The dread of going through that again was too much. She couldn’t lose The Fairy Post. Her hand found the stair railing and she squeezed, clinging to it like she was holding onto the entire cathedral itself.

Getting let go from The Sprinkled Scoop had been terrible.

But she had a feeling being let go of by Mor would be so much worse.

27

Cressica Alabastian and the Fate of the Cards

The day felt far too long, as though the sky deities had stopped the heavens from passing over, holding the Prince hostage in time. Cress paced by the café windows until Shayne returned in the afternoon. The white-haired assassin brought little news, saying only, “I think I might have gotten to him.”

Cress rolled his eyes. Shayne meant far less to Mor than Cress, and Cress hadn’t been able to convince him. Cress was nearly insulted when Shayne had stated his preposterous plan to visit Mor’s tacky cathedral and try to convince him with his words alone.

But still, as the hours passed by, and hot coffees were brewed, and customers left happy, Cress paced by the door. Out there, Mor was fighting the battle of his life—in his mind and with his hands. It had been a while since Cress had killed something, leaving an itch on his palm where his weapon belonged, but more importantly, Mor had never,eversnapped at Cress the way he had after his fox enemy had learned of Cress’s existence in the human realm. Mor was not himself and all was wrong in the games of fairies.

Cress tapped his forefinger against the fairsaber handle in his side pocket as he stretched his neck back and forth and paced some more. The early afternoon turned to a warm late afternoon, then to a golden evening. The sun was setting when Kate finally cut off his relentless pacing.

His human stood in front of him, her arms folded, her big hazel eyes trying to look strong and mighty and tough. It was adorable. And astoundingly pathetic. She’d just coloured her hair this month too, so it was a luminous black-blue now. He would force her to change it back to burgundy before the wedding. She just didn’t know it yet.

“Cress,” Kate said. The word was stern, spoken like a batty, old-aged woman chasing hogbeasts off her front porch so they wouldn’t eat her nectar berries.

“Mmm?” was his only response.

Kate sighed and dragged a coffee over the nearest table which it seemed she’d strategically hidden with her body until now. “Drink this if you’re going to be up late waiting. And stop pacing by the door; you’re seriously making me restless.”

She extended the coffee toward him in her delicate little fingers. Kate Kole was a good many things. She was sweet, soft, and acceptably pretty. Perfect for him, apart from only six major flaws he’d counted over their months of human dating.

He offered her the first smile he’d mustered in hours. His most handsome one.

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