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, ever snapped 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.

It didn’t faze her. “You should really get some sleep though,” she said. “Promise me you’ll go to bed if he doesn’t show up by ten—”

“Twelve.”

“No. Ten.” Her hazel eyes told stories of wrath to come if he didn’t comply. As if she could hurt a moonbug.

Cress took his smile back. She didn’t get to have it. “I haven’t been sleeping anyway, Human. I’m too bogged down by wedding plans and business decisions, and what recipe to make next for my show.” It was half true. He didn’t mention the real reason he laid awake each evening.

Her expression softened, and she stepped toward him. “All right.” She batted her eyelashes as she came right up against him on her tiptoes. She puckered her human lips and…

Cress smooshed his hand over her face and pushed her backward. “Yuck,” he stated.

Kate gasped. “Yuck?!”

“Yes. Yuck. Your antics repulse me. If you think you can lure me into an enchantment to get me to go to bed against my will, you’re out of your human mind, Katherine Lewis.” He quickly brought the hot coffee to his lips and began to chug.

Kate’s jaw dropped as he gulped down the whole thing and passed the empty mug back to her, wiping a bead from his bottom lip. “There will be no sleep for me tonight,” he announced. He fought the impulse to make an anguished noise in reaction to how the coffee had burned his throat on the way down.

Kate grunted and took the mug back. “Whatever. It was decaf anyway.” She stalked off with all her non-caffeinated trickery.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” he called after her. “Anything at all, Human?”

Kate made it to the kitchen door without a reply, so Cress helped her out.

“Un-real, Cress!” Cress mimicked her in a high, human-y female voice. Kate glanced back with an irritated look, and he flashed a gloating smile.

Dranian emerged from the hallway in graceful strides, followed by Shayne shuffling a deck of cards. The two planted themselves at the feasting table closest to the fireplace. “You in, Cress?” Shayne asked, and Cress saw him slide an ace card up his sleeve when Dranian wasn’t looking.

“Yes. Deal me in. And Kate and Lily, too,” Cress said. “And I spotted a fresh pie on the counter in the kitchen. Let’s split that.”

Shayne grunted a laugh. “You’re going to get chubby if you keep eating pie,” he warned.

“Impossible,” Cress said back, heading over and yanking the hidden card from Shayne’s sleeve. He added it back to the deck.

“Lily made the pie for her human police department’s summer fundraiser,” Dranian muttered, taking the cards away from Shayne to shuffle and deal them himself.

“Ah. Then let’s eat it quickly,” Cress decided. But his smile faded, his ear twitching toward the street. The shadows outside began to call his name.

Cress moved through the tables and pushed out the café door, rattling the bell. He looked into the darkest corners of the street as the door swished closed behind him. There were no human chariots on the road. Most of the storefronts were shutting down for the night even though the street lanterns weren’t lit yet. He searched the alleys of the breakfast tavern until he spotted a hooded shadow, and Mor stepped into the last blink of light the human sun would give for the evening.

Cress said nothing as Mor approached. As Mor stopped before him. As Mor pulled down his hood, revealing his curly hair and a face that looked to have been wrestling all day with whatever decision he had come to.

Cress stared at the brown-and-silver eyed assassin. Wind whistled through the street. After several beats of silence, Cress nodded. “Come inside. I’ll tell Dranian to deal you in.”

Cress led the way into the café, and Mor followed without a word.

Shayne’s eyes widened. The white-haired assassin stood until Cress lifted a hand and gestured for him to sit back down and shut up. So, Shayne sank back into his seat, biting back a smile. He would definitely try to take credit for Mor’s return, even though it was likely Cress’s and Mor’s unmistakeable bond that had done the trick.

Cress looked around for the pie he’d ordered. He didn’t see it on the card table. He eyed the kitchen, but he didn’t want to leave Mor alone, worried one of his assassins would bring up the topic of his Shadow Fairy nemesis. Cress would force them to avoid the topic for the first while, at least. Mor being here was enough.

“Mor!” Lily jogged from the kitchen. She came over and punched him in the arm. “You should have let me shoot that Shadow Fairy by the harbour. I’m a good shot. I would have gotten him right between the eyes.” She smiled and poked herself between her brows to show him. Little did she know that no fairy in the room believed she could take out a Shadow Fairy with a mere human weapon. Mor was too nice to point it out though.

Cress huffed. So much for avoiding the topic. Count on humans to make things weird.

Lily scooted into a chair, followed by Kate. Cress and Mor sat also. Finally, Cress couldn’t take it anymore. “Where’s the pie?” he asked.

Lily tensed. “Don’t you dare touch my pie, Cress,” she warned. She appeared quite serious.

It was fine. Cress would pretend to have to go to the bathroom soon. He would have no trouble sneaking into the kitchen to eat it.

Dranian passed the cards around and everyone picked theirs up.

“Aren’t you going to apologize for avoiding us, Mor?” Shayne asked and Cress thought about punching him through the window.

“No,” Mor stated. “I told you to stay away, and you didn’t.” He splayed his cards in his hands and began sorting them. “I should rip you apart, limb by limb, Shayne. And stop trying to flirt with my secretary.”

“Limb by limb?” Kate asked in disgust. “Do you guys always have to be so gross when you make threats?”

“Oh, they’re not threats,” Cress promised. “I assure you, almost every act you’ve heard us speak of is one we had to perform at one time or another.”

Kate and Lily looked up from their cards.

“Seriously?” they both asked at once.

“Even when you threatened to spoon feed Dranian flesh-eating ants that would ‘devour him from the inside out?’ You actually did that to someone before?” Kate no longer seemed interested in the card game.

Cress blinked. “Did you think we were nice assassins?” he asked with mild sarcasm. “Did you think we danced around to flute music and strummed songs of the Jade Ocean on golden harps for a living?”

A look was exchanged between the human females.

“You just said you wanted to kill a faeborn Shadow Fairy,” Mor added toward Lily. He poked himself between the eyes, mimicking her. “Remember? How absurd for you to be queasy now.”

“Well, I would have taken him out if you’d let me,” Lily said, and to Cress’s surprise, she didn’t drop her gaze like she was uttering a falsehood. Still…

“Killing is easy,” Cress said. “Killing Shadow Fairies is not. But I’m well practiced,” he bragged. “I watched dozens take their last breath because of the poison I put in their drink, or the fairsaber I plunged through their faeborn heart, or the water I held them beneath until their faeborn lungs—”

“Stop it, Cress!” Kate smacked the tabletop. “You’re going to give us nightmares. Un-real.”

Cress shrugged. “Mor once chucked a fairy into a pit of childling crossbeasts so he’d die slowly,” he said.

Everyone at the table looked at Mor. Mor seemed like he was about to protest the claim, then he looked like he was about to explain himself like there was a perfectly good reason for what he did, then he seemed to realize it was better to not say anything at all.

Dranian, who’d remained quiet during the whole conversation, piped up and said, “Shayne once dragged a faeborn fool through a village by his nose. Broke it right off in the end.”

Shayne grinned. “I did. It was hilarious.”

Kate became a strange shade of flushed. Lily put one hand over her eyes and the other over her human belly. Mor, Cress, and Shayne took turns pinching their mouths shut to hide smirks.

Suddenly Lily stood. “Excuse me while I go barf,” she said, rushing for the stairs to Kate’s apartment.

“Humans have such weak stomachs,” Dranian murmured.

Shayne nodded. “You’d think the ugly one would have a higher tolerance for punishments. She is the human version of a guard here in this realm.”

Kate put the backs of her hands against her cheeks. “Lily is not ugly. She was the prettiest girl in our high school. All the guys liked her.”

Shayne chuckled and laid a card to start the game. “That’s why I call her ugly. She thinks she’s tougher than me, prettier than me, and better at café-ing than me. And besides, she told you to send us away in the beginning, remember? One of us has to put her in her place for that,” he said.

Kate poorly stifled an eye roll.

“I think when she comes back, I’ll tell her about the time I caught an elf spy and flicked out his eyeballs—”

Kate smacked her cards down on the table again, cutting Shayne off and revealing her cards to everyone else playing. Cress leaned forward a little to see before she could pull them back to hide them again.

“I can’t hear any more!” she said. “If any of you say one more word about death, or killing, or torture, I’ll be the one to send you away this time. Got it?”

All four fairy assassins scowled and snuggled deeper into their seats, eyes dropping to their cards. Dranian laid a card, taking Shayne out of the first round.

Cress waited a few seconds for the game to go on. Then he leaned over to Mor and whispered loudly in his ear, “Remember that time you fired a flaming arrow right into that fool’s open mouth while he was shouting—”

“Out!” Kate stood and began collecting the cards. She yanked Dranian’s right out of his hand. No one moved. “No more ‘warm beast milk’ for any of you. Sleep on the street tonight for all I care! You’re not allowed in this café tonight!”

“But—”

“Humans only!” Kate pointed at the door, and four disgruntled fairies slowly lifted from their seats.