Page 55 of Quiver of Cobras
I gave him a curious look. ‘You like it here,’ I said, realisation dawning.
‘It’s a Travotel. There are hundreds of other hotels exactly like this one up and down the country. It’s hardly unique but it’s not a bad place to work.’
I shook my head. ‘No, I meanhere. This demesne.’ I watched his expression. ‘You don’t want to go back to Mag Mell.’
He shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea from,’ he said stiffly.
I took the chair opposite him. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m just … surprised. Every other faery in the world can’t seem to wait to get back.’
Timmons fidgeted with a pen. ‘It’s not that I don’t feel the ache.’ He briefly touched his chest. ‘It hurts me to be away as much as it hurts everyone else. Why do you think I wanted pixie dust from you? But,’ he continued, ‘just because I miss home physically doesn’t mean I’d rather be back there. Here in this hotel I’m respected. It’s my own little kingdom where there are clean sheets and hand soaps and those cute little sachets of instant coffee. I’m in charge. It’s not perfect – but nowhere is. Back in Mag Mell, I’m a nobody. Here I have a purpose.’ The pen snapped in his hands and his mouth twisted. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.’ He glared at me as if his confession were my fault.
‘Kebabs,’ I said suddenly.
Timmons frowned. ‘Huh?’
‘I can’t remember anything about Mag Mell,’ I told him, ‘but I’d bet my stunning good looks that there aren’t any doner kebabs to be had for love or money.’ I smacked my lips.
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘There’s not. Some bright spark tried to introduce chillies, which should have been easy given they’re just another plant. They didn’t take, though.’ He shrugged. ‘Too spicy.’
‘You can’t have a kebab without chilli sauce,’ I said, utterly horrified.
Timmons nodded. ‘Exactly.’
‘Rave music. I bet there’s no rave music.’
‘Only folk,’ he said morosely.
The horror. ‘Chocolate?’
‘There’s chocolate, but only dark chocolate. And you’d never find a Mars Bar.’
‘I’m guessing there’s no Candy Crush.’
‘Nope.’
‘Or Uber.’
‘Nope.’
‘Or YouTube.’
‘Nope.’
It made one wonder what exactly the point of Mag Mell was. ‘Probably no vibrators.’
Timmons visibly winced. ‘Too much information.’
Fair enough. ‘I get it,’ I told him. ‘It’s not so bad here.’
‘It’s pretty good. I like it.’ He sniffed. ‘And I don’t want anyone to mess it up for me.’
‘Meaning me. You don’t wantmeto mess this up for you.’
He shrugged. ‘You’re not exactly a selfless angel who puts the needs and desires of others first.’
‘I’m fighting for the greater good. Sometimes the end justifies the means.’
‘Does it?’ he asked quietly.
