UNSPOKEN: Undone Realms Book 3

Ch. 15: Dark Storm

(5 years, 3 days into the Ban)

He gently taps the One Cascadia, One World sign displayed in the window; he approaches the counter, ringing the service bell even though he can see that she's sitting right there.  She knows it's Dark Storm despite the fact that he resembles an overgrown choir boy more than an ominous force of nature.  His neatly-trimmed dark hair is parted on the side and combed back as if his life depends on every single strand being in place; his slim form is slipped neatly into a tailored white suit, as prim and proper as his hair.  Avie guesses he's one of those men with a perpetual baby face, the kind that can play a high school student on TV even though they're pushing thirty.  She'd probably have better luck growing facial hair than him.

"I'm looking for one of your guests, name of Troi Onslowe."  He draws out the vowels in Troi's name and she wonders if he's from Texas as well, or some other place to the south.

"And you are?"  Avie finds herself straightening the paper clips and binders littering her desk.  Anything to keep her hands busy while this boarding school reject stares her down.  Does he know who she is? Does he know about her relationship with Troi?  Is he contemplating the best, most public way to end her?

"I'm a friend of all those who serve the interests of the True Realm and the chosen country, Cascadia... and of Troi's.  He's expecting me." He reaches over the counter and rests his hand on hers, forcing her to stop her meaningless paper stacking.  "It's important that I see him as soon as possible."

"Right."  She pulls her hand away and turns to the computer where she looks up the room number she damned well knows already.  "Mr. Onslowe is in 119."

"Much obliged." He nods his head forward and brings his hand up to it as though he's tipping the brim of an imaginary hat to her.

Avie watches him cut diagonally across the parking lot, aiming right for Troi's room.

This can't be good.

An hour later, Troi saunters in, head down.  It's he, rather than Choir Boy, who looks like a dark storm ready to unfurl its wrath.  "We've gotta talk."

"Does this have something to do with your friend?" She walks around the counter and leads him to the couch adjacent to the continental breakfast nook.  Troi raises an eyebrow.  Avie cocks her head, motioning to the doorway.  "He came in here looking for you."

"Yeah?  Well, you see... he's not really my friend—I mean he is!  But he's also my boss.  My 'superior officer' I guess you'd say.  The thing is, Avie..." He twists his hands nervously.  "He wouldn't approve of you and me.  You know, us being together.  He already suspects I made up the arm injury just to come back here.  If he sees us acting like a couple, he'll know I came back to be with you."

Now it's Avie's turn to raise an eyebrow.  "You did?"

"I hurt my arm too, of course.  Maybe not as bad as I made it seem."  He shoots her a sly grin, which melts back into a frown a second later.  "The bottom line is, he can't see us together.  Not, like, in a romantic way.  I could get into big trouble."

Big trouble with Gillian, that's for sure.  Avie's not certain how to play this.  On one hand, she's relieved that she'll be free from her girlfriend duties as long as Dark Storm is here.  On the other hand, a normal girlfriend wouldn't be too happy about her boyfriend insisting that they pretend not to be an item.  And then there's the fact that his excuse is bullshit.  This isn't about him taking unnecessary leave so that he can visit his girl-on-the-side, it's about hiding the fact that he's become romantically entwined with the enemy.  Even if he's doing it to uncover dirt on Avie, it's clear Dark Storm wouldn't care for his tactics, and may even accuse him of being a sympathizer.