Nine-Tenths

Thirty-Nine

Dav snaps to a swift attention, chin and chest thrust out. The only thing missing is the salute. Silence descends—heavy, fearful, angry, and shamed.

I want to scream.

I want to stand between Dav and these people who are supposed to be his family, but speak to him like he's a criminal. Instead I fidget, sliding my hands into my back pockets, shifting from side to side, filled with energy I can't, I won't lash out with. I don't know what the hell is going on. And knowing me and my goddamned comedic karmatic butterfingers, anything I do right now will probably make it worse.

"You never learn, Alva," Simcoe says at length, like he's talking to a kid with a disappointing report card. "Your foolish idealism has gotten the better of you again."

Dav's chin drops. "You can't compare Colin to her."

"I'm not the one doing so."

Dav sucks in a sharp breath, like he's been slapped.

What the fuck is happening.

I wish I could ask. I wish I could take Dav's hand, squeeze it, show him I'm here, beside him in the shit, like I promised. There's a power struggle happening here that I can't fathom, and if Dav wants to make a statement about who we are to each other, I have to let him make the first move.

He raises his head, finally, meeting the impassive, unimpressed gaze of each of the dragons around the room, one by one. Dav looks to Simcoe last. Simcoe clucks his tongue impatiently.

"Colin," Dav says slowly, softly. "I left something in the murder-basement."

I know an excuse when I hear it, but I'm not stupid enough to say so out loud.

Dav and I make our way to the door, uninterrupted but watched. I get the creepy feeling that someone is about to shoot out a sticky tongue to reel me back and chomp me up.

"What did you leave?" I whisper, when we're in the back office. It's creepy as heck with the lights off. Dav closes the door and we're suddenly in absolutely pitch black. At least to my human eyes.

"It's not something I have left." He crowds me against the desk. "It's something I'd like to leave."

"What?" I ask, following the sound of his voice, the direction of his warmth. The cold worry that has been churning in my guts frosts into my extremities, solidifying into shards of fear in my blood, racing like shrapnel toward my heart. "You said you might be in trouble, but I didn't expect—"

"Nor I," he admits, breathless, harried. "But I ought to have."

"What did you want to leave?" I ask. "Something you think will upset them? Or—"

"This. Colin I—" His hands scoop under my ass and in an impressive show of draconic strength, I'm suddenly sitting on the desktop and he's sliding in between my knees, mouth on mine.

The kiss is...

Holy shit, now this is a kiss.

It's wet, and it's filthy.

He's got one hand on my chin and another on the crown of my head, holding my face up, holding me still so he can dip his forked tongue into my mouth.

"Mmph!" I say into his own mouth, because he's not letting me up for air.

Honestly, I could get on board with this. There's jerks upstairs and we're totally making out, but you know what? If Dav wants to keep kissing me like this until I pass out from lack of oxygen, I am a-o-fucking-kay with that.

I reach up to tangle my hands in his hair, urge him to kiss harder, deeper. I tilt my head back, make it as clear as I can with lips, and teeth, and tongue, and breath, and heartbeat, and skin, that I'm here for him. That I am all his, no matter what he has to say to the pricks upstairs.

And then, just as I'm getting into the swing of things, he's gone. He's eeled out of my arms and out the door so fast I'm dizzy.

A dull prick against the inside of my wrist makes me jump. When I turn on the light, I can see what's jabbing me. His lapel pin, with its ominous sigil, is stuck under the band of my watch. I must have accidentally skimmed it right off his waistcoat when I reached up.

I wobble up the stairs.

The front of the café is empty, save for Hadi, and she's sitting on one of the sofas. She looks wrecked.

When I say empty, I mean empty. There isn't a single bean in the place. The glass canisters are barren, the mason jars are missing. Even the compost bin is gone.

"What happened?" I pant. I know my mouth is bitten-red, and my hair is mussed, and the front of my jeans aren't sitting exactly flat, but that's not why she's so shaken.

"They're gone."

"Good fucking riddance. Bunch of uptight pricks." I say, then stare in horror at the growing queue of customers. "Shit, though. How are we supposed to make coffee?"

"I think that's literally the least of what they care about."

"We'll ask them to come back tomorrow." This is Hadi's livelihood we're talking about. I can be mad at the self-important royal assholes later. Right now we gotta get the beans going so they have enough time to cool. "Come on, we roast more. Is Dav already in the kitchen?"

"Is he...?" Hadi pulls herself to her feet, coming over to me, stumbling like she's seen a ghost.

"Dav! Start up the roaster, bae!"

"Colin," Hadi says, grabbing my elbows. "Colin!"

"What?" I ask, looking over my shoulder for my boyfriend. "Dav!"

"Colin!" Hadi shakes me once, hard enough to get my attention, expression grim."You're not listening. He's gone."

My heart flops, my stomach flips, and the world under my feet lurches.

"Gone," I repeat, as the smile falls off my face. I take a step away, and Hadi lets me go. Every breath judders behind my ribs, like a knife skidding along bone when someone stabs you sloppily. "That's... I don't..."

"They told him to go with them and he went," Hadi says softly. "There was a limo parked out front, and he got in it, and they drove away."

The pastry cabinet is cool against my back when I slide down onto the floor.

"Oh. Oh," I hiss, insides churning. "Oh, fuck."

The thing he wanted to leave behind was me.

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