26

Violet Miller and the Presumptuous Assassin

Loud knocking startled Violet awake. Early afternoon light sifted through the office curtain cracks, patching over the desk where she’d stacked piles of Mor’s research. His written notes covered everything, and Violet had read enough of them that she was sure she could identify his handwriting anywhere. They mixed in with her own notes from the research she’d stayed up late doing online on memory-loss-related fairy folklore.

She peeled her cheek off the desktop. She couldn’t recall exactly when she’d fallen asleep at Mor’s desk—it must have been after midnight. Apart from the knocking, all was quiet. Mor must not have been back from whatever business he’d said he needed to take care of.

The knocking sounded again, and Violet stumbled from her chair as the noise echoed through the cathedral. She rubbed her face, mumbling, “It’s too early for visitors.”

“Don’t open the door for anyone while I’m gone.”Mor’s final words from last night shook her awake as she realized no one should be knocking on the door at all, regardless of the time. Violet blinked the sleep away as she scooted out into the hall, tapped her way down the stairs, and crept toward the large entryway doors as quietly as possible.

“Mor!” someone shouted from the other side. He sounded bored and on the verge of getting annoyed. “Moooorrrrrrrr!” And then, “Mor, I missed all the drama this morning! Don’t you feel even a smidgen bad for me?”

Violet slinked to the nearest window to peer out.

Shayne—the white-haired fairy—stood on the front stairs. He wasn’t in an apron anymore. In fact, he was decked out in glistening black and navy leathers, and a crossbow was strapped to his back. He was probably sweating buckets in the summer heat, although he didn’t have boots on, at least. He stood on the stairs in bare feet.

Violet sighed. Mor had told her not to open the door for anyone, so Shayne would have to melt out there. She turned to head back upstairs when a wall-rattling knock boomed through the lobby this time.

“I’m not leaving!” Shayne shouted. He began drumming his knuckles against the door to the rhythm of a song Violet didn’t know. A second later, he started singing—loud and painfully off key.

Violet huffed and went back. “I can’t open this door. It’s locked from both sides!” she called to him.

“Ah, hello, pretty Human. Then how did you get in?” he asked right back, seeming unfazed by the fact that they were yelling through a door.

Violet thought about it. Would Mor really be angry if his friend came in? Shayne was the one Mor had trusted Violet’s life with, so it wasn’t like Shayne was one of the bad guys. “There’s a ladder out back that takes you up to the second-floor balcony. I scaled the eavestrough to the roof after that. Once you’re on the roof you have to be careful because it’s a steep slope, but if you can get to the bell, there’s a staircase below it that leads inside.”

“You did all that?” Shayne’s response was immediate.

“Yes. And in heels, I might add,” Violet bragged. She smothered her smile.

There was a long silence on the other side of the door. Violet thought maybe he’d left to go try out the obstacle course, but he piped up again, “Queensbane. You’re the craziest human I’ve ever met. I think I’m in love with you. Might we share a kiss when I get inside?”

“No!” she stated, though her cheeks warmed a little. Three different fairies had thought about kissing her in the past two weeks. She flung her hair over her shoulder and smirked. Mor could call her Paint Face all he wanted, but she clearly wasn’t repelling anyone with her looks.

Since Shayne didn’t specifically say if he was going to brave the climb and come in, Violet wasn’t sure if she should wait. She didn’t hear anything clanging around on the cathedral’s roof, so she ventured back to the office. She sat down in the desk chair and dragged her newest version of the upcoming Fairy Post to herself to look it over, worried it would be garbage since she wrote it while she was so tired last night. She had a gift for spewing embellished nonsense when she did midnight writing sprints.

“Human women like me.” Shayne’s voice broke the silence and Violet glanced up from her articles. “But not you. I wonder why.” He was lounged against the doorframe. He’d come in as silent as a mouse.

Violet cast him a look and went back to her paper. Shayne sauntered in and sat on the chair across from her desk, dragging his crossbow off his back and resting it along his lap. Violet tried not to stare at the shining weapon that looked unsettlingly stabby.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“I’m watching you, Human. I’ll just sit here and watch you all day.” Shayne batted his eyelashes.

Violet made a face. “I won’t be able to type another word if you do that.”

Shayne slid his crossbow off and set it against the chair, then leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Why ever not? Most would love having a strong assassin gaze at them longingly while they do their work.”

Violet shifted her weight in her seat. “Let’s just say I’m not interested in…” she waved a hand toward his leather Catwoman outfit, “…crazy.”

Shayne sat back in his seat, face pensive. “You like someone else,” he realized.

Violet’s eyes widened. “No, I don’t!”

But Shayne was already grinning—too widely. “You can’t fool a fairy, Human. Not on matters such as these. You just lied and said you don’t long for someone crazy like me, but you’re the spitting image of crazy yourself, and in my experience, crazy calls to crazy. So, the only explanation is that you already have strong affections for someone else.” He tapped a finger on his knee, and suddenly his face changed. “Queensbane, is it Mor?!” It came out with a horrifying level of excitement.

Violet stood. She was sure her cheeks were hot enough to fry an egg on.

Shayne sprang from his seat and gasped. “It is!” He pointed at her. “It’s Mor!”

Everything inside of Violet told her to shout protests. To deny it to her death. But when her heart took on an extra beat, she was suddenly very afraid to ask herself why. Why was her heart beating off its rhythm? Why did the accusation make her blush so hard?

Violet abandoned her work and beelined for the door. For the first time in days, she had a reality check. She asked herself what she was even doing spending time in this place after she’d almost died because of it. She needed to go home to Zorah, pack their bags, and convince her aunt to move somewhere remote with her—like she should have done right from the beginning.

Shayne was faster than lightning. His body cut her off and he slapped a hand against the opposite doorframe before she could leave. He bit his lower lip over a grin. “Don’t go anywhere, pretty Human,” he said. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to fall for Mor. I must know everything.”

Violet set her jaw and grabbed his bare hand with hers.

Shayne released a low-toned shriek and tore his arm away. He cast her an accusing look. “That was mean,” he stated.

“You’re mean!” she countered, suddenly feeling like a child in a fight. But Shayne grinned.

“I know. It’s part of the reason you females like me, I presume,” he said.

A crash sounded down the hall, halting their petty fight.

Mor marched around the corner in his vampire coat, and Violet held her breath, suddenly afraid he’d heard their conversation. She wanted to melt into the floor—right into that unmarked grave she’d been so worried about the first time she came here.

Shayne’s smile widened. “Mor!” he greeted. Mor grabbed Shayne by the arm and yanked him away. “Ow!” Shayne protested as Mor dragged him to the end of the hall and down the stairs. Violet rushed after them but stayed at the top of the staircase as Shayne was tossed toward the front doors.

“How many times do I need to tell you fools not to come after me?!” Mor sounded furious—Violet staggered back a step.

Shayne rolled his eyes and patted off his leather suit as though Mor had spoiled it. “I wanted to see your lightless hermit hut for myself, Mor. You can’t keep secrets from us anymore, you know. If you’re really fighting a nine tailed fox, you need us.”

Mor’s jaw flexed. “I must do this on my own. Don’t make me keep saying it.”

Shayne’s smile was gone. “Then why did you bring her to the café before and leave her in our care?” He nodded up the stairs toward Violet. Both fairies glanced at her at the same time, making Violet want to shrink into the floor all over again.

Mor opened his mouth twice before coming up with an answer. He dragged his gaze back to Shayne. “I didn’t mean to get her involved. She broke in and now my scent is on her, you know that.”

“Yes, I gathered she’d broken in when she told me all about how she brilliantly did it. And of course she smells like you, Mor. She probably likes it.” He couldn’t stop his smile from breaking out at that last comment.

Violet considered pulling off one of her heels and throwing it at his white-haired head.

“Go back to the café where you belong and tell the others to stay away until I finish this. I swear, if I have to have this conversation one more time—”

“Absolutely not,” Shayne stated. “You might be able to spit on Cress’s parade because of your adorably chummy history, but I’m here now, and I’m far more difficult to get rid of. I’m not leaving until you let me help you. Even if it’s just to wash your faeborn stockings.” Shayne held up both hands like he was ready to do the dirty work.

“You hate stockings!” Mor snapped.

“No, I hate wearing stockings.” Shayne pointed up at Violet. “Do you really want to watch that human die? Just because you’re stubborn, Mor? What if she’s the price you pay for not letting us deal with your problem? Don’t you remember what almost happened to Kate?”

The air seemed to stop moving in the cathedral. Mor said nothing and glanced up at Violet again instead. Violet lifted both her hands.

“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.