Chapter 16 #3
I look down at the watch that I’m still holding in my palm, an artifact that apparently is thousands of years old.
I exhale a long breath through puffed-out cheeks.
So, really, what is Collin? I don’t think he’s been trying to trick me.
He acts as if he truly likes me, and I hope he knows he doesn’t have to fake that to get me to help him.
But even if he’s not faking, let’s be real a moment—what could someone like me even mean to an incorporeal, divine, ancient Avatar of Knowledge?
Could the flirting just be some kind of game for him?
Play-acting the role of a “perfect young lover” for the poor, lonely incubus boy?
Nothing more than a bit of fun to temper the crushing boredom of immortality, kinda like my mom?
The thought that Collin could be anything like my mother instantly reminds me that I promised to stop asking myself stupidly painful questions, so I glance at the table and see my cup is no longer steaming.
It looks like it’s cooled down enough to drink and since, in my experience, tasty food and bev are super useful for maintaining denial, I take a big sip.
It’s actually not bad. Perfect temperature, anyway.
Sweet with just a hint of a bitter aftertaste.
I don’t drink a lot of tea, and its acrid flavor is the main reason why.
(Although this tastes sharp in a different way than I’ve had before.) I take another sip and discover that now I actually kind of like the bitterness.
It’s bracing. (That’s the word you use for tea, right?) Maybe my taste buds are growing up some?
Even so, I’m not so grown-up that I’m not totally going to smash the huge pile of cookies on that dainty china plate.
I grab the biggest one with my free hand, take a bite of its pure, chewy, chocolatey goodness (still warm!
so soft!) and realize the two go especially well together.
Tea and cookies. I’m pretty sure that’s what they have in the UK every day. Ireland, too, I bet. Not that Collin would ever have had that. Not really.
I glance down again at the artifact in my hand.
I’m still so shook by Tara’s reminder that Collin might be nothing like the cute Irish boy I’ve been kissing and cuddling (and more) that I consider not putting the watch back in my pocket at all.
Maybe it would be easier to just set him free without some long goodbye.
Maybe the smart choice here is to just accept the obvious: that despite how he looks, Collin and I are very, very different.
I finish the cookie and wash it down with another swallow of tea to buy more time to think.
I realize that whatever he is, I still need to ask about exactly where Emma is in the Benevolent Society building and what the Monster Hunters will be up against when they try to save her.
And I basically gave Collin my word that I’d bring him back as soon as possible.
It’s that last one that really decides it.
In all fairness, he’s done nothing wrong.
In fact, it’s been the opposite. Yeah, there’s stuff I don’t know about him and that’s a little scary, but it’s not right to totally ghost him just because feelings are hard and I wasn’t smart enough to ask him about any of his backstory ahead of time.
I return the watch to my back pocket, and Collin immediately appears in front of me, looking very relieved. “Oh, good! There you are! Safe as houses.”
Hm. Seems my theory from before was right. When he’s not “active,” he can’t actually see what’s going on around him. Could he still be awake that whole time? If so, Mom’s boredom would have nothing on his.
But again, I don’t know what he feels, and I can’t know. I try to smile at his UK slang (are houses really that safe?) and raise my cup at him, not wanting to talk about what’s truly on my mind.
“I’m fine. Tara continues to be cool. She even makes good tea.” I take another sip and enjoy the flavor still more this time.
Suddenly, Collin’s eyes widen with horror.
“Wait! God! Alvin! Stop!”
I freeze, not even swallowing, and watch Collin move his tongue around the inside of his mouth, like he’s the one who just drank something. “Intensely sweet, bitter aftertaste… Oh, Jaysus. It’s belladonna!”
I immediately spit out the tea into the cup.
“Wait, you mean the poison…?” I hiss, as quietly as I humanly can while at the same time freaking the hell out. Maybe it’s just my saliva, but it still feels like there’s a bunch of the tea left in my mouth. I try to spit out more, but my mouth goes dry.
“Yes. And from what I can tell from your taste buds, she also added a few other botanicals to speed the effects.” He jams his fingers through his hair, clearly freaking out himself.
“Oh, God! I’m so sorry! I tried to sense if the tea was dangerous when we were in the kitchen.
I did! But she must be able to hide things from me!
” He kneels beside me. “Tell me, exactly how much did you drink?”
I look down at the cup.
It’s more than half empty.