Chapter 15
Peter could tell, even without looking, that his suit was ruined. Theodore had cried on it, and Peter did not select his suits for durability in the face of tears and snot. Yet he bore the stains happily. They were like wounds blessed by Valkyries.
He’d been able to coax Theodore to the table, gorgeously set by Celeste with little plates for afternoon tea for everyone, even for him, as Celeste likely hadn’t wanted to assign seats or cause awkwardness.
Next to Peter, Theodore was looking at the fruit tart on his plate, eyes dreamy and slightly swollen.
Peter felt incredibly bad for finding that he was apparently into seeing Theodore like that, all unraveled or disheveled—a little of both, really—and the more beautiful for it.
The reason for Theodore’s current state was far from ideal, but still.
“I like this,” said Laurette, using his tiny fork to point back and forth between them.
“I like this a lot. You two are romantic, but in an angsty, aggressive way. It’s like when I went shopping for drapes the other day, and I found this gorgeous, heavy brocade fabric that I could just tell would look good, but then I remembered the room wasn’t bright enough to make it shine if I hung those heavy drapes the way I wanted to hang them.
I could’ve gone with other drapes, or I could’ve changed my entire design plan.
Can you imagine? Tough choices all around, I tell you, and no word of constructive criticism that showed understanding of my predicament, at least not from Gertrude, who does not do drapes, she tells me. ”
The lord sighed, though Peter wasn’t so sure he needed to breathe all that much while talking.
“Dunno what the Fae’s deal was. Boy, but that one’s sense for magic seems massively dimmed, much like that room would’ve been with the heavy drapes.
Or nonexistent. You get the odd dud like that sometimes. Poor hunk.”
Next to the lord, Carl or Conrad or whatever his name was ducked his head and nodded in agreement.
It was such a wolf gesture that Peter would have wondered at it, but he was otherwise occupied; Theodore had picked up his own dessert fork and looked as if he was considering attacking his tart with it.
Peter despised the messiness of human eating, but he was willing and ready to wipe whipped cream from the corner of Theodore’s mouth as soon as he bothered to get some stuck there.
Celeste leaned back in her chair. “Meaning the Fae is not dangerous?”
She didn’t sound happy about the prospect of a Fae, magically competent or not. Sadly, Peter had to agree.
Laurette shrugged. “Clearly not not dangerous. Or rather, if he is, it’s too early to tell.
” He looked at the ceiling as if considering that.
“You always think those of a kind are all the same, but that’s rarely true.
” He focused his magicked eyes on Celeste.
“Madame, were you in the middle of work?”
She nodded. “When Theo got here.”
Laurette beamed. “I’d never stare at a lady’s bosom, but I cannot help but notice that lace suits you.”
Celeste looked pleased. Peter couldn’t tell whether she was faking it. “This bosom is meant to be stared at. Go right ahead.”
Laurette exhaled, relieved. “Ah. I’ll count myself lucky.” He pointedly let his gaze drop. “Very lucky indeed.”
Carl-Conrad bobbed his head excitedly, and it just so happened that Theodore looked up right then and caught that. He frowned deeply.
“Theodore,” Peter said.
The frown as well as a gaze so heated it might pop a cob of corn turned on him. “I shouldn’t be talking to you. You hung up on me.”
Peter lowered his head. As one should when their beloved takes issue with their behavior. Oh, if only we were handfast, I could make an offer for compensation or appeal to his fondness for me while groveling. “I did, and you were safe even without me.”
Theodore turned the heat up some more, enough to get the corn popped and butter melted on top. He’d gripped his fork a lot tighter too. “I’m not talking to you. Starting right now.”
Lord Laurette turned his attention back on Theodore. “Consequences. It’s what all the billionaires are afraid of and build bunkers for. I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. Laurette of the Silver Moons. You?”
Celeste jumped in while Theodore was still frowning at the Elf. “This is Theo. He used to work here.”
“I’m working here again. Starting tomorrow.”
Theodore sounded contrary, his voice a grumble. It very nearly made Peter frown—not Theodore’s mood so much, but the statement itself. He shouldn’t want to be working. Not at all, but certainly not so soon after being accosted by a strange stranger.
Laurette brightened. “Are you? My. I try not to show preference for establishments under my guardianship, but alas, most human establishments that could be likened to the Boudoir lack Madame Celeste’s elevated touch.”
Theodore buried his fork in the fruit tart. “I’m just behind the bar, okay? Not doing any client work.”
He glanced at Peter as if this were a test. Peter had no doubt it was, had no doubt he’d have to put in the work to earn his beloved’s forgiveness. He knew also that he should possibly feel guilty for having gotten to that point, but he couldn’t muster that.
“I’m sure you will be wonderful at that,” Laurette said, never missing a beat. “To get to the unpleasantness that brought us together, the Fae accosted you?”
Theodore nodded while swallowing his bite of tart. None of the cream got stuck to his lips. “Yeah. Said he was going to free me of compulsion and take my gratitude. At least that’s what I figured he was talking about—compulsion. He was weird, so I hightailed it out of there.”
Laurette cocked his head, a pink-tipped strand running over his shoulder and catching Carl’s interest. He sniffed the air subtly before glancing away as if he’d been caught at it.
“He didn’t try to lure you with him, didn’t actually grab you?” Laurette asked.
“No, nothing like that. I mean, I didn’t stick around for him to—”
Theo’s phone buzzed with an incoming call, and he pulled it out.
Peter leaned over, glancing at the screen. “Corvin?”
Theodore shook his head. “He doesn’t normally call. Sorry, I’ll just get this.” He stood, taking the call as he did so. “Hey, C—what, Mike? Yeah, I called, but—” He turned back to lock eyes with Lord Laurette. “Mike says there are Fae there?”
Laurette straightened. “Speaker, please.”
Theodore nodded. “Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker. I’m here with everyone.” He held the phone up to the table.
“—s everyone? Where are you?”
“Corvin, this is Peter. Care to tell us where you are?”
The exhale was audible, and somewhere in the background on Corvin’s end, Peter heard Michael say, “Peter’s there?” before Corvin continued, “Mike came here to look for you two. He said you were really scared when you called him, Theo.”
Theodore sniffed. “I wasn’t…scared.”
“Whatever. He said you were, so he did the white knight thing and came over here. Because he’s the best. We’re hiding behind the bushes in front of the cafeteria because there are a bunch of super-hot guys here, except Mike says they’re Fae and thus very bad.
Definitely no touching, he says. This isn’t what I thought my afternoon would look like. ”
“Well, this is a development.” Laurette leaned toward the phone. “Hello there, this is Laurette of the Silver Moons. We haven’t met, and this is an inopportune moment if ever there was one. You say you are safe, hiding in the greenery?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Who are you?”
Laurette stood. “Not important now. I’m headed your way to assist with your Fae problem. There must be a nest, as they say. Can you and your partner keep an eye on them without getting too close? Like you would watch a cockroach or a spider.”
There was a pause. “Mike is nodding. I’m game so long as there are no zombies.”
“Goodness, let’s hope not. Theo is going to give me your number, and I’ll be in touch when I get closer. Peter, you’ll be driving us back there, I’m afraid, and—”
“I’m coming,” Theodore said.
“Coming from where? Where even are you?”
Theodore turned his phone around while they all stood. “Celeste’s. But we’ll be there soon. We’ll be right there.”
“’Kay. See you then.”
He hung up, and Peter got to his feet. “Theodore.”
His beloved glared at him again. “I’m not staying here.”
Peter, in a daring mood, placed a careful hand on Theodore’s elbow. “You’ll be staying behind me. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Aw, aren’t you two just so damn cute,” Laurette said. “We should get going though. Peter?”
Carl-Conrad cleared his throat. “If it’s okay with you, boss, I’ll tag along with them. Help out.”
Celeste nodded absently. “Go ahead. This isn’t going to be a worse problem? I’m not an expert in dealing with Fae, Lord Laurette, but they shouldn’t be hanging around on campus, should they?”
He shook his head, coiling a pink-purple strand around his finger. “No. We’ll get to the bottom of that particular mystery.”
Peter inclined his head. “The first Fae—”
“Cloudtree.” Theodore crossed his arms. “He said his name was Cloudtree and something else or other.”
“Well, Cloudtree mentioned he had family waiting when I lured him out of the cafeteria, but I assumed that was him trying to get me not to tear his head off right away.”
Laurette shrugged. “Let’s ask him before we head out there. Worst case, we stop by my place and pick up a sword or two. Peter, you know your way around a sword, don’t you? Or is your only skill making a man swoon while you dance with him?”
Laurette made his voice seductively low, and Peter could almost hear the sparks those words ignited in his beloved’s mood. Theodore, as it turned out, could turn his glare up even higher still, and Laurette happily ignored that.
Celeste clicked her tongue. “None of that here. Take it outside. Go on.”
She was good at herding the lot of them, even without a crop, and before long, they’d made it downstairs where Laurette’s pixie servant was overseeing Cloudtree on his knees, polishing the hardwood floor around the bar.
Some of the employees were watching, some of the clients too. Cloudtree had a nice ass.
“’Tis no way to treat someone whose intentions were good.” The way he said it made Peter think the complaint wasn’t being raised for the first time.
“Cry me a river,” said the pixie, who was at the bar, sitting next to Kira. She held the Fae’s leash loosely in her hand, a Shirley Temple in the other.
“A lot of people pay good money to be made to clean our floors,” Kira said.
Laurette clapped his hands. “Isn’t this perfect? I love it. So, Cloudtree, you have family out there looking for you?”
The Fae stopped his scrubbing. “What is it to you, Elven cousin? Would you bind them with magicked silver also? And for naught but caring to break a bloodsucker’s thrall!”
Peter had made sure he’d gone down the stairs ahead of Theodore, and Carl-Conrad had gone just after; a pack reflex to protect those who were weaker. Now though, Theodore shouldered past Peter.
“Don’t you fucking call him that! What did Peter ever do to you, huh? You’re the creep who caused half the campus to film you and wonder what the hell you were doing there, all strutting and preening and glittering like that.”
Cloudtree sat back on his heels. “I didn’t—I—you must believe me, my intentions were genuine! I do not strut.”
Theodore, in an overblown gesture, rolled his eyes, and Peter was sure this was one of Celeste’s lessons in non-verbal communication showing through.
“Regardless.” Peter put an arm around Theodore’s middle. “There are now others there.”
Cloudtree frowned. “Others?”
“We were thinking, someone looking for you perhaps?” Laurette grinned at the Fae, and once again, Peter saw a predatory glint in the Elf’s eyes. It was unsettling, and Peter didn’t normally find many things unsettling. “Or friends of yours? What is it, brothers in arms and all that?”
“Good caning helps with that a lot of the time,” Celeste mumbled, too low for anyone but the supernaturals to hear.
Cloudtree didn’t pale, but the sparkle of his glittery skin faded slightly.
“I…I wouldn’t think it, but…it is possible—not likely!
—but possible that my stepbrothers followed me here.
” He dropped his gaze to the floor he’d been doing a decent job cleaning, wringing the rag he’d used in his hands.
“I beseech you to understand. They are not looking to do good if it truly is them.” He looked up at Theodore.
“All I wanted was your gratitude, valiantly earned and freely given. If that caused offense… I can see it caused offense. That was not my intention.”
“That’s new.” Peter exchanged a look with Laurette. “This might be the closest I’ve ever seen a son of Faerie come to an apology.”
Laurette sighed. “We might have to grab the swords.”
Cloudtree stood. “You mean to kill them? Please, I beg of you! They’re kin. I loathe them, but they’re kin.”
“And they’re intruders in a city that happens to be under my protection.” Laurette took a step forward, almost coming nose to nose with the Fae. “We’ll take you along. Talk them down if you can, but fail, and I will act.”
Cloudtree’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I will do my best.”