Storm of Shadows (Lumineers 1)

CHAPTER 22: KENSINGTON STATION

Conrad watched Nit soar into the dining room moments before Tabby strode through the door. He studied her over the top of his newspaper, looking over her clothes, her lean curves. She appeared recovered, as much as could be expected, despite the dark circles under her eyes. He exhaled, but his gaze remained fixed.

She glanced about the room, taking in everything, until her regard settled on the breakfast laid out. She went straight for it. He tensed, waiting for her to say something, another rebuke for last night, but she didn't. She didn't even look at him.

Instead, she invited herself to the seat beside him, to the right of the head, and poured a cup of coffee, griping it in both hands, inhaling deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed and she took a sip, then a longer drink, and sighed. He waited. It was good coffee. He half hoped she'd acknowledge that, at least, if nothing else. But no.

Ignoring him on purpose, then.

His thumb rubbed against a wood grain line on the table. He immediately caught the action and stopped, aware that her eyes had jumped straight to it. He'd gotten her attention. "Well, good morning," he prompted. He set his paper down. "I suppose you'll be angry with me for a while, then?"

"Have you heard anything from Elias?"

He hesitated. "I received a note this morning. My coachman got as far as Branmore before stopping for rest. They should be at Solaris tomorrow evening." She nodded. "Tabby—"

"What?!" Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"I'm not going to apologize for my actions. I did what I had to."

"As if an apology would matter," she muttered into her cup, disregarding him, staring straight ahead.

"Well, on second thought, if it calms your temper, it might be worth it. Your anger is—" He stopped himself.

"Is what?" Her gaze narrowed. "Childish? Careless?"

"I was going to say annoying."

"Liar," she hissed.

He didn't respond. Spects were trained to disregard trifling emotions, but it was her anger towards him, her emotion, that made her human—made her different from the regime they were trying so desperately to destroy. In that case, he welcomed it. It was yet another reason he'd singled her out after watching her all these years.

"I don't like that you're upset with me," he finally allowed himself to admit. Probably not the best idea. But there—the words were out and he couldn't take it back. Besides, it was the truth, much to his own dismay. "Are you going to eat something? You should." He glanced at the food. He'd called for a larger breakfast than usual—much larger.

"Don't change the subject," she snapped. But she glanced at the platters of sausage, bacon, eggs, and toast.

"Eat something, and we can talk about whatever you wish." His shoulders relaxed as she began piling items on her plate. When her mouth was full, he asked, "How did yesterday go? Did Waste give you anything?"

Admittedly, he had wanted an answer since last night, but he was patient. He'd partaken in his fair share of torture over the years, an unavoidable casualty. It wasn't something he reveled in...except on a few rare occasions.

"He did," she said through a mouthful. He almost laughed at her lack of manners. A welcome change compared to the ladies he was often cloistered with.

"And?"

"After a fair bit of rough handling, he gave me one name. I don't even know if it was worth it."

That she had done it twice now left him with mixed feelings, but only when he allowed himself to consider it. So he didn't. Not much, anyway. Not more than was necessary. It had to be done.