Artifice - Man x Man - Book Six

Chapter 33

I sit at the small diner, thanking the woman for the cup of coffee she provides me. "Would you like cream?" I pull my lips into a thin line and offer the smallest smile. 

"No.. black is fine." I wrinkle my nose at the taste but it feels right to have it as I would have served it. Coffee in this time is strange, almost stale in taste even when it's fresh but it does have its merits in its strength.

"I took you as a tea drinker." David sits across from me, ordering a plate of pancakes and a coffee which he loads with sugar and cream.  

"Not so much anymore. Ever since I had a proper English tea, I can't find a love for it any other way." I cross one leg over the other, folding myself into as small of a spot as possible. 

The chill from the impending storm has me in a long sleeve, the heat of the smog long since passed. We were drifting towards fall, losing the consistent warm temperature and drifting into our first winter out of Romanian. 

Just in time to lay waste to all the progress made on the crops and planting. But, hopefully, next year will bring plentiful growth. By this time next year, we might be well on our way to an everyday life. 

I order just a fruit bowl, not much in the mood for pancakes. "Ya know, they make an English blend." He takes a long sip and I gesture for him to move on. "So, you wanted to talk business?"

"There's a hurricane coming, says Rhea. I'm hoping to capitalize on that. I think if it would be a real show of power of what we're capable of if we could redirect it towards the drought-stricken areas down the coast. It could potentially cure the ailment of the land, at least on this side of the country. A proof of concept, that if we could restore proper cloud formations it might set things on the right path."

 The pancakes and fruit are set down in front of us, and I thank the waitress, downing a hefty swallow of my coffee to stave off the remaining hangover that plagues my left temple. Digging through my pockets, I find the flask and dunk a generous pour of whiskey to chase off the burnt taste.

Mr.Malcom says nothing as he cuts his pancakes up much like a child would, without care or consideration to the sizes and shapes of the pieces. It'd been so long since I ate with someone. Marcello was good, quiet company, but we weren't necessarily friends. When we traveled together, it was mostly in separate rooms brought together only by meetings. 

It was the first time I hadn't been befriended by a 'team', though if I genuinely think about it, I don't really have a team anymore. He takes large, manful bites that cause me to avert my eyes and exhale, reminding me of my location and my lack of status. "Do you have a mother, Mr.Malcom?"

"I do. She lives in Seattle." 

"Hmm, so very little excuse then, I'd say. For your table manners." 

He chuckles, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "My apologies, your majesty, I missed dinner." The first time he said it, I thought he had figured me out and it had almost stopped me in my tracks. But, Marcello had been quick to save me from myself and point out that it was sarcasm, not a truth of his knowledge. 

"So. This hurricane. You think you can redirect it?"

"Yes. With Tyler's help of course. But, I will need my lycans returned if I want to assure the plan's success." He chokes on his coffee and gives me a stern look that chills me to my core. I set my mug down. "You do intend to return my lycans, Mr.Malcom?"

Taking another bite, he chews it over as he seems to come to terms with my question.

 "You haven't spoken about 'em since you left the compound. You think that'll be enough to bring you the president's trust?"