Chapter 32

32

I stare up at the sky scraper where Bellamy’s new office is, watching the sunrise glint off the upper windows. Across the courtyard is the matching building where Santanos works.

“It’s a little weird that there’s a false dichotomy enforced that separates the Avatars like this,” I comment, pulling my attention back to the men sitting on the benches outside with me.

Bellamy glances up with a grimace. “It keeps the two companies separated. It’s not a false dichotomy for the minions.”

“Where is Darcy going to work from? Where are his minions supposed to gather?” I ask, waving around the space. There’s no room for a third skyscraper, so he’s probably not going to be working in these office spaces. “Although, seeing Darcy in an office space would be off-putting, I think,” I add, considering the imagery of it.

Darcy makes a noise of ultimate disgust. “I would never. If I have minions, they’re going to have to figure out how to work without an office space.”

“You have minions. Sterling’s one of your minions,” Bellamy informs us. “They’re ghost hunters, or something.”

Darcy stares at him for about three seconds before his wicked grin makes another appearance. “You’re telling me that Jethro Jones and Sterling are officially my minions?”

Bellamy sighs heavily, nodding. “They’re here somewhere in the city. They came to see you, but you’d disappeared and haven’t been available until now.”

“I was busy,” Darcy shrugs, kicking his feet. “You should call them over. It’s been a minute since I’ve seen your little cousin.”

Bellamy draws out his phone, shooting off a text message, then nods. “I’ve let them know where we’re going and how long we’ll be there. I also sent my cousin your phone number so he can bug you about it instead of using me as an intermediary.”

“Bellamy, Darcy.”

I turn to look behind us, spotting Santanos with his guards and mate.

Darcy hops to his feet, turning to face the people we’ve been waiting on.

We came here to meet with Santanos to discuss The Hollow and how to deal with it, but the Avatars wanted to meet on neutral ground, and since Darcy doesn’t have an office space, we’re standing on the sidewalk. Since this information seems to be confidential at the least, we’re leaving from here to go to a place where we can’t be overheard.

Why did I come? I’ve asked myself this a couple of times, but the answer really is, because Darcy invited me along and for no other reason. I like spending time with him, so here I am, spending time with him even if what we’re doing is a saving-the-world strategy meeting.

“What is Elijah doing here?” Santanos asks mildly.

“He’s here as the representative of the gods who figured out what the fuck is happening, specifically Harmonia, his grandmother. What is your entourage doing here?” Darcy questions with a hint of annoyance.

“I don’t go anywhere without my bodyguards, and Edovard is my mate. He goes where I go for the simple joy of his company.”

Edovard leans down and hugs Santanos from behind. “I love being with you.”

“That’s so sweet. I’m glad your mate can join us like this,” I say, resting an arm around Darcy. “It’s nice to see that.”

Darcy shoots me a look that makes me think he might not agree, and Bellamy walks over, hugging Edovard around the waist when the giant man releases Santanos. “Hello, baby brother.”

Edovard smiles happily at the nickname. He’s such a loving guy. I bet those are the best hugs. “Hey, can I get one of those over here?” I ask, opening my arm that isn’t on Darcy.

Edovard lights up with happiness and trundles over to me, giant that he is. He stops in our personal space, looking down at Darcy. “Is it ok if I hug your mate? You can have a hug, too, if you want?”

Darcy shakes his head, stepping out from under my arm. “No, thank you, big guy. I’m good with Elijah.”

Edovard smiles softly. “Yeah, you are,” he agrees, then pulls me into a gentle hug full of the warmth of familial love. Edovard must exude it from his pores, he’s so comforting.

“You ready for a planning sesh for how to save the world?” I ask him as he steps back.

He glances back at Santanos, who nods. “I guess that’s what we’re doing. Not on the sidewalk, though, right?” he asks, glancing up at the sky. It’s a clear blue day, so I’m not sure why he’s worried.

“We’re going to meet with the council,” Santanos assures him, soothing a hand up the big man’s back.

Edovard perks up. “Grandpa D!”

Darcy grumbles beside me. “Bellamy,” he says, gesturing to the building across the courtyard.

Bellamy grimaces, but he dutifully starts walking toward the office building that houses all the minions of good.

“Darcy fucking Hellspinner, what the fuck has taken you so fucking long to get here?”

We all turn at the smooth tenor with the voice of an angel, and my entire being goes from curious to elated at the speed of light.

Before me, sitting in a chair hovering about three feet off the ground, looking down at Darcy from his hover-chair throne, is a dude with long ash blond hair pulled into a smooth queue at the base of his neck, wearing a dark blue suit with a yellow shirt and gold tie. His steel gray eyes stare down at Darcy without even acknowledging the rest of us.

“I don’t know you,” Darcy tells the man, examining him from head to toe. “Who the fuck are you?”

The man scowls at him. “Furion Steelhorse. Right now, I’m the Avatar of Neutrality’s right hand, at least according to my ancestors and the magic that inhabited you.” He jerks his hand at the building across the street from us. “I’ve been holding down the fort, waiting for you to show up. Chaos is fine, but you lost ninety percent of your dispatchers and more than half of the advocates. There’s a lot of clean up and hiring to do with the Depot before we can begin sending out the Reapers again. Plus we’re moving that operation to this building and that generates even more chaos.”

The look on Darcy’s face and the tremble in his body tells me that whatever is happening with Furion, he’s not in the right headspace for it, so I step up. He’s protected me from danger more than once. I think I should take up some of the slack.

“I’m Elijah,” I introduce myself, waving to make sure Furion’s eyes are on me. “Is that a hover chair?”

Furion narrows his eyes at me. “Yes. It is. Do you mind? I’m trying to talk to Darcy.”

I smile and step directly between him and Darcy. “You’re full of really helpful information, and I appreciate that, but you’re also interrupting a save-the-world meeting between the Avatars. Whatever the Depot is, whatever is happening there, is going to have to be in chaos for a little longer, because if we don’t fix the universe-destroying evil happening right now, there won’t be any chaos to fix.

“You seem like a really competent second in command for my mate, and we’re going to have to lean on your competence for a while longer. I promise, Darcy will be back as soon as the world isn’t in imminent danger of getting eaten.”

Furion stares at me for three long seconds, then he blows out a frustrated breath. “Yes, fine. I’ll continue to hold down the fort, but I refuse to listen to any complaints about the reorganization of the Depot. I am a wedding planner by trade. I know the skills overlap, but I wasn’t expecting to do all the initial work alone.”

“You’re doing an incredible job, Furion. Thank you for having my man’s back while he’s taking care of this other thing.” I completely understand getting overwhelmed when you’re thrown into a job you didn’t exactly sign up for. “You’re a cool dude. I like your chair.”

Furion gives me a sour look. “I’d prefer for my legs to work,” he deadpans, then he and his chair fly off, heading over the cars in the street to the building that is apparently Darcy’s new office space.

I turn to my mate, offering him my hand again. “You got a great right hand man there. Little high strung, but competent. You ready to go?”

Darcy grabs my shirt collar and pulls me down, kissing the hell out of me. I give in to his ardor, opening my mouth so he can taste me, push his tongue in my mouth, and claim me like I wasn’t already his. He tastes like the sweet coffees we drank on the way over here and smells like fire and incense. He pulls a groan from me with a possessive grip on my ass, and when he pulls back, it takes a moment to get my breath back.

“Why do you smell like incense all the time?” Those words probably didn’t need to fall out of my mouth, but goddamn, he smells so good. It’s grounding after such a hot makeout sesh.

His affectionate smile makes my stomach dip and my heart flutter with happiness. “It’s just how I smell after making magic.”

“It’s an excellent cologne substitute. Ready?”

Darcy threads our fingers together, up-nodding Bellamy. “Go on, Bella.”

Bellamy narrows his eyes for the briefest moment before turning on his heels and marching toward the building where his office is located. I’ve been told there are legal portals in that building, and we’re taking one to Australia where the council has their offices. The council governs the non-human community on Earth and functions as a liaison to magic aliens that don’t live on Earth. That’s a thing I learned today. Apparently the council recently went through a change in leadership, and Romily’s best friend is the leader. I’m looking forward to meeting him. I wonder if he’s also an alien—non-human?—or if he’s from Earth.

“Do we call them aliens if they’re not from this planet?” It’s a valid question. “I don’t even know if non-human is the right word.”

“Non-human is fine,” Santanos answers smoothly from behind me. “But only if you’re talking about all the species who aren’t human, and we occasionally say ‘species’ when we want to include humans. The species are in danger. If you’re talking about just the people who know about magic on Earth, then we call ourselves the magical community or just the community. If you’re talking about people who don’t live on this planet but do live in this universe, then you call them Yunkin, because the name of this universe is Yun. Otherwise, it’s fine to refer to people as their species, such as human, demon, dragon, goblin, gnome, et cetera.”

“I didn’t know we named the universe,” I comment. Last time I’d checked we hadn’t.

“Humans still haven’t,” Darcy informs me. “The rest of the known species agreed on Yun when we discovered multiple universes were possible. Yun is the first letter in the Standard lettering system that the space-faring species use for writing. It’s a bit on the hubristic side, but I like it.”

With an ego as large as his, it’s no wonder that he does.

“Nice. We’re allowed to name our universe whatever we want.” If we ever do dip into other universes, I hope they also name themselves first in their lettering systems.

Bellamy hums his agreement, opening the door into the building and letting the rest of us through. He quickly jogs ahead, leading us to the elevator, where we crowd in. The people in the lobby all stare at us like we’re the strangers that just walked into the hometown diner in a small town.

I’ve never been stared at like that before, but I have been the person staring. My hometown is tiny—just a rural community about fifty miles from the city. We stare when people we don’t know wander into the diner. It’s fun. Something to pass the time. Plus the gossip it generates gets out of hand so fast.

“I wonder how Maeve’s doing.”

“Who’s Maeve?” Darcy asks.

I guess my inside thoughts are coming out of my mouth again. “She’s the old woman who owns the diner back home. She makes up stories about the strangers that come in to eat, and it keeps the town entertained with gossip so we don’t gossip about each other. She’s the best gossip girl in town, even if everything she says is fiction. It’s fun. We had a family of werewolves come through… you know, it just occurred to me that maybe she wasn’t making everything up.”

The elevator door opens, and we exit the lift into a room with doorways with portals standing free in rows three feet apart. There are probably a hundred of them, but Bellamy takes us to the first one, gesturing for us to go through. “Right behind you,” he says, and Darcy walks through, keeping my hand in his and pulling me across the world into another boring office building.

For all the magic happening all time, it seems like bureaucracy is bureaucracy no matter what.