Chapter One #5
I can’t hold back a chuckle, even though I hate that they’ve manipulated me like this. “Fine,” I concede. “Gideon comes with me. But teleportation is an absolutely last resort,” I warn him. “I’m not risking you unless we’re both facing imminent death, okay?”
“Fine by me,” he agrees.
Percy smiles and nods. “Thank you, David. That will set my mind at ease.”
Yep, now I feel like a pile of cat crap for making him worry. Pushing the guilt aside to deal with later—probably when he’s piling on more over the whole sleeping at the office thing—I stand again. “Then we’d better get going.”
“You should read the note first,” Alistair suggests.
“What note?” I wish I could tell you I mean that, but I don’t. I’m just trying to throw him off the scent. I know exactly what note he’s talking about. It’s been burning a hole in my pocket since I put it there.
Because it could cause diplomatic problems if I don’t deal with it properly, of course. Not because I want to read it.
“The note Caolan left with your breakfast.”
I should try to remember that Alistair cannot be thrown off the scent. Stubbornness, thy name is hellhound.
“What’s this?” There’s a note of delighted intrigue in Percy’s voice as he leans forward. Then he clears his throat. “I mean, David, if you’re engaging in overnight visits with—”
“Oh, stop. You know I slept here last night—I’ve heard all about your little spy camera.”
The lucifer of all species looks crestfallen before he hides it. “Good. We need to be, uh, professional. So what’s this about breakfast?”
“I mentioned to Aidan that poor David is so overworked that he’s been sleeping at the office,” Alistair said.
“Aidan must have said something to Caolan about it, because this morning he came to the office and said he was worried about David not looking after himself properly and wanting to know if there was anything he could do. Sam suggested he could bring David breakfast.”
“And he did? Oh, what a lovely gesture.” Percy lays a hand over his heart and sighs.
Kill. Me. Now.
“Did you say there was a note?” The wide brown eyes of one of my oldest friends fix on me. I briefly wish I’d hit him with the cricket bat that one time I almost did when we were children. “Have you read it yet?”
“No. And I’m not planning to. Caolan and I need to remain on a professional footing.
If his gift hadn’t been perishable, I would have returned it.
” That’s almost true. I’d return most gifts, but if he gave me something like an elven spell book, I might waver.
Over the last few days, I’ve learned that elven magic is a unique combination of my type of sorcery—drawing power from an inner well and weaving it into what we need—and human-style wielding of existential magic.
So while I could never perform an elven spell myself, I might be able to take elements of it and adapt them for pure sorcery.
Honestly, I’m itching to try—if we weren’t dealing with a disaster, I would have cornered one of the elves and begged for help already.
Alistair gasps, and Percy draws back like I’ve slapped him. Even Gideon frowns.
“You have to read it!” Alistair declares. “You can’t do this to me. I’m too invested in this story now for you to ruin it for me.”
I don’t even…
“Stop talking,” Gideon tells him, then turns to me. “You need to read it. We’re meeting him now. What if he’s said something in the note that you need to know prior to the meeting?”
Welp, can’t argue with that. Guess I’ll have to read it after all. But…
“You do know that I’m not telling any of you what it says? Because even if I feel that his behavior is inappropriate, it’s still a private message and would be a betrayal of his trust for me to share.”
Gideon manages to hide his disappointment—just. Alistair and Percy don’t even bother trying.
In fact, Alistair begins whining immediately.
I tune him out—it gets easy after a while—dig the note out of my pocket, and unfold it.
Noah’s neat handwriting covers the paper, but there’s no way Noah would ever say these words.
Life would be poorer without your glory. Please allow me to take care of you so I never have to live without the wonder of you in the world.
It’s completely over the top, much more suited for people who are actually dating, and I’ve never been one to go for such sappiness—practicality is my game—but I can’t help the flutter of tiny butterfly wings in my stomach as I read it.
Maybe it makes me selfish, but there’s a part of me that really likes knowing somebody thinks of me this way.
That somebody, however misguided they might be, looks at me and sees more than just practical, dependable David.
He sees someone worthy of wild passions and flowery declarations.
Which is ridiculous, because I’ve spent most of my life working hard to be practical, dependable David.
I love having an organized life, and I love knowing that my friends and coworkers know they can rely on me, that I’ll never let them down.
This is who I am, and more importantly, it’s who I want to be.
But I guess that doesn’t mean I don’t also want to be the person who fills someone else’s every thought.
Look at me, learning something new about myself.
“Okay, let’s go,” I declare, pushing all self-realization to one side. It’s just another thing that has to wait until later.
Gideon obliges me by standing and following me to the door. I can still hear Alistair whining to Percy about how I’ve deprived him of an important element of the story arc in this “living romance” as it closes behind us.