Page 90 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Shayne sat across from him. “I’ll make you pancakes,” he lured, leaning toward Dranian with a grin. “And I’ll soak them in human sweet syrup—”

“It’s calledmaple syrup. Wow, this is Canada for goodness’ sake—get it right,” Lily interjected as she carried over a coffee and sat across from Violet. She flashed Violet a smile to say hello. Mor followed and slid into the seat beside Cress. He leaned a little to take a snoopy glance at Cress’s wedding notes.

“—and they will be delicious, and you’ll never want me to leave,” Shayne continued without missing a beat.

Lily set down her coffee and turned to Shayne. “It seems like every time you talk, you’re trying really hard to convince someone to want you.”

Shayne released a loud laugh and dramatically swung around in his seat to face Lily. “Have you noticed I don’t bother trying with you? I don’t want everyone to want me, Human. Only people Ilike.”

Mor snorted a quiet laugh, and Violet saw Kate kick his foot under the table.

“Ilike you, Shayne,” Violet said. “I think I’ll bake you your own batch of muffins.” She took a long drink of her mocha as she let that settle in. She stole a look at Mor, whose eyes had rounded a little. Still, to his own demise, he refused to object and admit that her muffins were crap.

Kate finally closed her book beneath the table and slid it back into her sweater pocket. “Is anyone tired of talking about wedding plans?” she asked.

“I am,” Lily admitted. “I think you guys should just toss your plans to the wind and let everything fall where it may.”

“That would be fun,” Kate smiled.

Cress released a loud sigh. “You shameless hoes,” he said, shaking his head—Violet nearly spat her mocha. Cress pointed between himself and Mor with his pen. “You humans could learn a thing or two from us fairy folk. Planning is the key to success, whether it be for an event, or an assassination, or anything really.” He clicked his pen and scribbled another note. Mor nodded at his side, leaning again to see what Cress was writing.

“What did you just call us?” Kate glared across the table.

“Hoes,” Cress answered. He looked up and almost dropped his pen at the look on her face.

Mor didn’t see it though. “Hoes. As inbros before hoes,” he added, articulating so that she might understand. Cress’s hand flashed out to Mor’s arm, stopping Mor from continuing to educate all the stupid humans in the room.

Violet was astounded she wasn’t the first to squeak out a laugh. Shayne took the gold medal for not-keeping-it-together when he burst out laughing, tumbled from his seat, and turned into a basket case on the floor.

“Unreal,” Lily said, shaking her head and taking a swig of her coffee.

Cress looked at Shayne, seeming to wonder why Shayne had insight into this situation when he didn’t.

The café bell jingled, and a teenager with scruffy hair walked in. Cress stood immediately. He rushed to the teenager and said—not quietly enough, “Kate’s-brother-Greyson, what does it mean to call a human female ahoe?”

The teenager chuckled and looked at Cress like he was crazy. “Trust me, you don’t want know,” was all he said. The ‘Kate’s-brother-Greyson’ guy fixed his eyes on the coffee pot behind the counter and headed that way.

Violet smirked and scratched her knuckles. Fall was coming with its colder temperatures, and her hands always suffered from the dryness the most. She pulled her purse up onto her lap and dug inside for lotion, but her fingers bumped something small and cold instead. When she opened her bag to peer in, she had to blink several times to convince herself what she was seeing, and when it dawned on her, she blanched.

Dozens of small, cold pebbles filled the bottom of her purse.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t pull her eyes away from them. Seconds passed where she hardly heard the chatter around the tables until Mor piped up from his seat, “What’s wrong?”

Violet’s head snapped up—she squished her purse closed. She met his gaze and flashed him a smile. “Nothing,” she said, dropping her purse beside her chair. The sound of all the pebbles hitting the floor seemed to be the loudest thing in the room.

Shayne and Lily went at it again, bickering over some nonsense, but Violet’s hands wrapped tightly around her mug, her palms sweaty as she stared out the windows of Fae Café. A strange phantom wind seemed to seep in from the street and brush over her bare shoulders like a hand swiping along her flesh, and through the late summer heat, she shivered.

It was a fool’s hope. Violet begged the universe for it to just be a coincidence that pebbles filled her purse.

She shouldn’t consider it a sign. It wasn’t like it meant anything for sure—thathewas back. That he was coming for her. That he’d gotten close enough to leave rocks in her purse like he wanted to let her know he’d been there. She hadn’t seen red hair close by. She hadn’t heard a sweet fox voice or smelled his fragrance in the air. The clouds hadn’t shifted; the wind hadn’t changed.

Yet, everything about the mysterious pebbles told her he was back.

She went home and got no sleep, imagining someone appearing at her bedroom window. After hours of restless tossing and turning, she got smart and closed the blinds.

Zorah made her toast with jam for breakfast, and they had a normal morning chat before work. Violet had finally told Zorah about The Sprinkled Scoop situation three weeks ago, and that she was now working for a new paper called The Fairy Post. So there were no more secrets between them.

Apart from the big one, of course.

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