eighty-seven

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When Alouette steps into Harry's office the following morning, she finds three piles of folders stacked up on his desk. He's taken off the black jacket of his suit, and the lights coming in from the window paint the white sleeves of his dress shirt green and pink.

"Bad moment?" she asks, stopping in the frame of the door.

"Was there ever a good one?"

Alouette laughs. "If you're trying to make me feel bad about forcing you to take an unpaid holiday and leaving you with extra homework, I'm afraid it's not working out."

Harry puts down a folder and goes on to the next. "You know, I believe the right term would be kidnapping, and that's quite illegal."

She moves a pile of papers to the side and sits on the desk. "As if you've never done anything illegal! You can't suddenly start caring about the law when crime comes back to bite you, that's hypocritical."

Harry narrows his eyes, studying her silently for a long moment. "You're getting too comfortable," he states, and even though Alouette can tell he's joking, something in his tone makes her wonder if she isn't treading closer to the edge than she realises.

She clears her throat and lifts the folder she's been holding this whole time. "I don't want to add on to—" a quick glance at Harry's table, "—whatever's going on here, but this came in yesterday."

Harry's gaze dips to the new arrival for the quick instant it takes him to recognise it. "I presume you've already read it thoroughly."

"You're presuming right." Alouette flicks through the pages. "And something's missing."

He closes the folder he was checking. "What is it?"

"Some information about the Shade's spy system. I think I read more about it when we were still at the Revolution, but now it's nowhere to be found." She raises her eyebrows. "Either that or I'm going crazy."

Harry hums. "It looks like Ezra wants to remain valuable to us."

It takes her just a moment to catch on. "Do you think he's scared you might take over if he gives you too much information?"

"Undoubtedly." He tilts his head. "I have to admit it's a little upsetting. I was looking forward to cutting him out of the operation."

Alouette glares at him. "You signed a deal."

"A deal, not a promise. Deals are meant to be broken."

"Deals are meant to stay, so that the two parties don't kill each other."

Harry chuckles. "I'm afraid Ezra has already had his chance to take me out of the game—and he's wasted it." He looks up at her. "And so have you... I suppose that's where the family ties come in?"

Alouette lets out a hard laugh. Then she pulls out a knife and puts it blade-first to his neck. "Take it back."

He doesn't flinch at her sudden movement—whether he expected it or she isn't scary enough to threaten his sempiternal calm, she can't tell. "Just where did you get that?" he asks conversationally.

"I swiped it from today's breakfast."

He raises an eyebrow. "The butter knife? Really?" He lets out a sigh. "I'm sure I've taught you better than to threaten me with a dull blade."

Alouette lets out a laugh, because he's right. She doubts it would be enough to cut through soft bread, let alone someone's throat. "It's more for effect," she admits, "it doesn't matter what it is as long as I can make them believe I could kill them with it if an emergency comes."

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