Chapter 14
Theo was feeling cold all over. Jittery too, like he’d had too much coffee.
One of the other students who wasn’t in his afternoon seminar had posted a video in a group chat, and it had been Peter facing that Fae and looking kind of mad…
or rather kind of emotionless, but in a scary way.
Peter had a knack for that, the scary look.
It was his version of a resting bitch face.
There’d been no more updates until two minutes ago, when the Elven lord had texted Celeste. Theo should’ve hit the floor with relief at that news, but it hadn’t happened, and a part of him worried that Peter had gotten hurt or needed blood, and not knowing made him antsy.
Celeste frowned at him. “They’re on their way here. Everything’s fine. They’re bringing cake. Relax.”
Theo leaned on the kitchen counter and focused on just breathing. “Fuck.”
“You’re looking a little pale there.” Carl put his hand next to Theo’s, though he didn’t touch him. “Do you need to lie down?”
Celeste made an approving sound. “He’s right. You look like you had too much adrenaline with your tea. Horse that’s been raced with a new crop and didn’t get the appropriate aftercare.”
Theo chuckled, dry and humorless. “Not a horse. Or in need of aftercare.”
Celeste pushed the toffee tin over to him. “I don’t need all the details about your relationship with Peter, you know. Eat a toffee.”
Theo looked up at her. “Funny.” Theo took a few deep breaths. “If I said anything mean to you—”
“Oh, hush.” She gestured at Carl. “Watch him. I’m setting the big table for tea. Might as well if we’re hosting Lord Laurette.”
“He’s truly coming here?” Carl asked.
Celeste made an amused sound. “Don’t look so starstruck before even meeting him. And remember, you’re representing the Boudoir when you’re here.”
Carl sat up straighter. “I know. Of course. Won’t be a problem.” Then, a moment later: “Boss, you mean I can stay?”
Theo stopped looking at the selection of toffees and lifted his head to look at Carl. “What’s up with you? You know that Elf?”
Carl’s cheeks took on a slight flush. “Never met him. I just know of him.”
“But he always wanted to come with me when I had to visit the lord. Excuse me while I prepare for our guests.”
She walked off, though she opened the door to a small shoe closet by the door to change from her work heels into a pair much fancier. She didn’t so much as fuss with her clothes before putting plates and cups on an antique-looking round table by the window and arranging them to her liking.
Theo picked a toffee at random and looked at Carl. “What’s the deal with the Elven lord?”
Carl glanced around as if he didn’t want to be overheard. “He’s famous. Obviously. Like Mr. Collins, I suppose.”
Theo took a deep breath while chewing the sticky treat. “Mr. Collins hasn’t called me back yet. You’d think Mr. Collins had forgotten how to operate a phone.”
He wasn’t sure if his voice sounded bitter or angry. He wasn’t sure whether he was either of those or neither. He kept seeing flashes from when the birds had attacked him, from when Bernard had come for him, mixed with Peter facing the Fae in the cafeteria.
“He’s going to be here very soon.” Carl looked at Celeste. She was humming while folding napkins. “I’m sure you’re okay to wait for him downstairs if you—”
Theo crossed his arms. “Nope. He didn’t call. I’m not going to sit down there by the door like some bedraggled lapdog.”
Celeste snorted. “Bedraggled lapdog.”
Theo flushed.
Carl nodded. “The boss has sharp ears.”
“Just for bullshit. Theo, bathroom’s through the living room. Rinse your face and comb your hair.”
Theo was about to tell her he didn’t need that kind of advice anymore, but her tone wasn’t one of advice. Celeste had a very distinct boss voice that said, I care, and I’m taking care of you right now, please trust me, so he did as she’d said and went into the bathroom.
Her living room was eclectic, with a big three-seater couch and a few cabinets and small tables that were mismatched but worked together to create one thing in spades: coziness. At a glance, Theo was pretty sure that everything here was carefully thrifted, and he wished he had this kind of taste.
It’s nothing at all like Peter’s place, but also somehow a little bit like Peter’s place.
I don’t understand how the two of them have anything in common, least of all their taste in throw pillows.
Peter’s throw pillows were arranged in geometric formation though, while Celeste’s just occupied space on the couch and a recliner by the window.
A paperback sat on the sill, the cover facing outward, a ribbon marking Celeste’s place.
Peter didn’t leave his half-read novels lying around like that.
The bathroom was just as cozy, with golden light coming from two wall sconces flanking another large burlesque poster that served as wallpaper for half the space. The tub took up a good one-fourth of the room, the small window above it letting in a glimmer of natural light.
Theo did look worse for wear in the round mirror above the sink, and he gave his own reflection a critical frown. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks splotchy. He groaned in resignation and opened the bathroom door.
“Celeste, do you have some powder I can use? Just something to even out the redness.”
She craned her neck. “Hmm. You’re too pale for my color. Check behind the bathroom mirror. I think I have a mineral powder sample there that might work for you.”
Theo closed the door behind himself again and went searching. He was back out a few minutes later, looking far less like some boyfriend who’d been crying over his significant other who’d just hung up on him while stepping right into danger. He felt like Puck, almost.
Carl smiled at Theo when he came back to the kitchen with his back straight and his chin up. “Feeling better?”
“Yup.”
“Angry?”
“Why would I be angry?”
Celeste was quiet in an annoyingly noisy way while puttering around and making a fresh pot of tea.
Carl barely missed a beat. “Sorry. My mistake. How’s Coconut?”
“Who?”
“You know. Corvin.”
“Ah. Right. Well, he’s fine.” Theo let out a sigh when he realized they’d hung out only yesterday. “Will texted yesterday. I guess we’re all invited to play some D&D or board games at his place.”
Carl cocked his head. “I call warlock. I’m usually the party’s sorcerer.”
Theo looked at him. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Well, I get to cast Magic Missile.”
Celeste sighed. “Oh, my darlings…”
“I don’t know what that means either.”
Carl gave him a level look. “It’s for attacking the darkness.”
“Sweet baby deities and joyful sinners,” Celeste mumbled, then walked off while her kettle was heating.
Theo narrowed his eyes. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”
Carl shrugged. “Does the pup play D&D?”
Theo shook his head. “Parsley does.”
Celeste cackled as Carl said, “Who?”
Theo balled his hand. “Shit. Basil? No, fuck. Sage! Sage. Sorry, it’s one of those names that has a hard time sticking. But it’s Sage like pumpkin, because pumpkin goes well with sage. I’ll remember it.”
Carl nodded. “All the adrenaline, probably. Should get better after some food.”
Theo straightened. “I don’t—”
Celeste snapped her fingers. She was looking out of one of the living room windows. “Save it. They’re here.”
Theo’s heart thudded in his chest, which was ridiculous.
This was nothing, after all. Nothing. Out of habit, he glanced at his phone, but before he could even unlock his screen, he had the good sense to feel silly for it and aborted the gesture, stood, remembered he wasn’t going to run to the door just to greet Peter, and sat back down, frowning at himself.
“Feeling fidgety there?” Carl asked.
Theo crossed his arms to keep himself from moving. “Do I look fidgety to you?”
Celeste clicked her tongue. “Theo, stop letting Carl get to you.”
Carl shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to get to you. Hey, do I look okay?”
“Huh?”
Carl leaned toward him. “Because of Lord Laurette. First impressions and all that.”
Theo had never thought of Carl as overly self-conscious, but then again, he’d always looked flawless for a bodyguard, never mind that his work clothes were a black suit and tie.
“You’re a fanboy.”
Theo said it half to himself, but Carl gave him an embarrassed smile that made him look both younger and softer. “Don’t tell the pup, okay?”
Theo was about to ask why he called Will a pup anyway.
Some days—a lot of days, frankly—Theo felt like a pup all right.
He had cutely carved fruit still in his lunch box to prove that, and just remembering that made him think of Peter all over again, Peter, who had made that lunch, then run into danger.
If that idiot had gotten hurt, then all I’d have left would have been, what, some flaccid, squished banana and a pithless orange? Did he think I’d get over his sorry ass being gone by making fruit salad?
The anger came with a sharp sting to Theo’s eyes, and he was on his feet before he could stop himself. He turned to the door, ready to meet Peter, but there was no need. Kira came in, holding the door, and Peter was the first one through.
Heat messed up Theo’s vision. “Are you fucking serious!” he yelled, turning on Peter. “You think you can leave me with fruit salad while Carl is watching me?”
Carl paled. He held up his hands defensively. “I—platonically. Very, very platonically. And professionally.”
Theo couldn’t really see Peter’s face. He wiped his eyes, remembered a moment too late that he’d powdered his nose and that all that was pretty much useless now.
Peter exhaled sharply. “Dearest—”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Peter! How could you!? How could you call me like that and—who was going to make my coffee, huh? You think you can just fucking start with all the weird ‘oh, take a sweater’ stuff and then vanish on me? You—you only just installed—the heating—in the basement.”
Theo’s breath was hitching. A part of him knew that it was panicky breathing, and another part informed him that he was embarrassing himself, a lot, and would pay for that down the line, but he was in it. He couldn’t step out of himself and stop, he had to go through it.
“Dearest Theodore.”
Peter hugged him tight, and that was that. It was as if a dam was breaking, through and out of Theo. He hated it. He hated it so much. He hated that Peter was holding him in his arms, making cooing noises, pressing Theo’s head against his chest.
“You scared him, Peter,” Theo heard Celeste say. She didn’t sound happy.
“Would some cake soothe the poor thing? Well, or maybe he’s fine. You find yourself someone who will hold you like that, I posit you are fine. Gertrude! Help the madame with the tea, I beg of you, then guard the Fae.”
Theo looked up at that. His vision was blurry, but he could see the Fae all right, Mr. Oil Spill Hair and Purple Eyes himself, Cloudtree something or other. He looked right in Theo’s eyes.
“I—I thought for certain that you were thralled, young fitz-mage.”
Another newcomer, pink-haired and dressed half steampunk, half indie designer, made a threatening, guttural sound.
“One: we don’t call people that here. We say they have Elven heritage or that they’re human with some Elven magic mixed in.
Two: he isn’t that. Can’t you tell? Don’t answer that, I actually don’t care.
Gertrude! I changed my mind. Make him help out downstairs or something.
” He fake sniffled. “I need a break. Today was stressful. Madame Celeste, your hospitality is like a balm.”
A hand on the back of his head pulled Theo’s focus away.
“I’m sorry I worried you.”
Theo clenched a fistful of Peter’s fancy suit. “You just fucking hung up on me. And you—you just showed up at school.”
“To see you. But you’d already run from danger. I’m so proud of you, belov—Theodore. I am so very proud of you. You’ve done so well.”
Theo snorted, his nose stuffy. “Not going to do that again. I’ll call you next time, and then I’ll wait for you.”
Peter pulled back. “No, don’t do that. You did the right thing, Theodore.”
“You hung up on me.”
“Because you were safe.”
“You weren’t fucking safe!” The tears started up again.
With a sigh, Celeste walked up behind them. “You two are adorable. Do you think you can join us at the table?”
Theo felt his bottom lip tremble, but he stared right into Peter’s eyes, stared like a vampire compelling someone would. “We’re not done talking about this.”
And Peter had the gall to look pleased and smile his fake Viking smile. “As you say, belov—as you say. Come, we got some fruit tarts. Unless you truly cannot stand fruit salad?”
Tears started running afresh, even as Theo laughed at a joke that really wasn’t all that funny.