AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Okay. So she’s just like any woman, really. I ask, “Pockets?”
“The no-crust sandwiches. The tiny pizza rolls. Ravioli. Burritos. Anything with a gluten-based exterior and filling.” He smiles, gently, and my heart thuds. “Basically, the sorts of things that take time to make from scratch. What a little monster.” His eyes find me, and he tucks his smile away. “Sorry. I’m delaying because I don’t know what to get. Would you mind ordering for me?”
“Sure, no problem.” I push a few loose curls back and resist the urge to redo my messy bun. “Do you prefer sweeter things? Spiced? Is caffeine an issue, or will the fact you work as late as you do make that irrelevant?” Not that I’m fishing for details about your work, or anything.
“Stimulants don’t do anything for me, so caffeine is fine. It doesn’t need to be sweet. I wouldn’t mind having whatever you like.”
I tilt my head and smile like a silly, lost, little teacher. “Stimulants don’t do anything for you?”
His attention drifts elsewhere, catches the eye of a student, and makes them jolt their attention back down to their work. “Some…brains function differently when exposed to certain stimuli. The chemicals in caffeine that interact with a nervous system in order to heighten releases of cortisol and adrenaline in some people can have an alternate effect in others. People with dopamine deficiencies, for example, can often wind up either tired after intake or more level than spiked.”
I’m a little fascinated, and trying not to be. “So you have a dopamine deficiency?”
He chuckles, humorlessly. “Something like that.”
I order us both chais and let Pollux grab them at the window while I pick a seat in the corner of the cramped lobby. It takes the man all of three steps to cross the entirety of the room and reach me. He sets my cup down and tucks himself the best he can into the chair across from me. Beneath the table, our legs brush as he stretches to fit.
The heat from my cup does not help the situation as I grasp it between my hands. “Thank y—”
Pollux’s eyes launch up off a slim piece of paper my brain didn’t so much as compute he was reading until one second ago.
“—ou…”
He closes his eyes, crumples the paper, and tosses it onto the table between us before grunting.
I shift in my seat. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s with the no thanking rule…?”
“Meda’s told you.”
“Right. But…”
“We believe in the fae.”
Oh. Okay. Uh.
My entire brain narrative trips on that pebble and goes tumbling face-first into traffic. Every idea I’ve had in my head thus far grinds to a miraculous halt while the idea picks gravel out of its skin and reformulates.
They believe in the fae.
They head out for a decent part of the night.
They are not the sole members acting absolutely bonkers in this town.
Am I dealing with…a cult?
My own smile goes so wide it hurts my face, but I am really, really uncertain right now whether or not this is better or worse. Cults are, you know, cults. They have terrible rules. Some demand pain and sacrifices to prove fealty. Others are run by awful, awful men who abuse every woman in his reach. They give themselves elevated titles…
Like prince.
And…
Everyone must abide by their rules, above all else. If they don’t approve of something, that something isn’t allowed…
And, you know, like a cult, I bet they meet each Thursday. To prepare for a party in the woods. Every third Tuesday. That kids aren’t allowed at.
Just spit-balling, here, really.
Oh, heavens. Please let it be a nice cult that is very respectful of their children. Please let it just feel like a hardcore bunch of LARPers. And please, please, please don’t let Zahra join it…
