Page 39

EZRA

“ T hey’re in the office.” Orion leans around the corner.

I hang up my apron, glad the night’s over.

Things have been kind of tense at the apartment — Fitzie’s clearly hurt I didn’t tell him about Lysander sooner, but he covers it up with snark and he doesn’t say anything about Lysander coming over.

While I’m guilty as hell because I’m still keeping secrets.

“Thank god.” I run a hand through my hair. “Sorry, I’m gonna leave you with the tills.”

“Man, I hate counting,” he groans.

I feel like a naughty kid going to the principal’s office every time I knock on Syril’s door. It doesn’t help that the door opens on its own to reveal Syril at their desk with a pair of silver-rimmed glasses perched on their nose, poring over a stack of papers.

“Come in.” Syril waves me in, not looking up. Their shadows retract across the floor.

“Hey.” I shut the door behind me.

Syril takes the glasses off. “Are you looking forward to the regatta?”

“The what?” I ask dumbly.

“The boat race — the Crossing.” Leaves rustle as their head tilts. “I hear Lysander will race with you.”

“Uh, right.” I pull out the chair and sit. I completely forgot that I’m gonna be representing the entire human race at the next festival. “He said he wants to join, if that’s alright.”

“It’s his choice.”

“Will he be safe away from The Sanctum?” I suddenly wonder.

“A dryad’s territory is wherever they are. While I’m there, he’ll be as safe as he can be,” Syril says.

“The last thing I want is for him to have to protect himself again.” Or protect me. “I can’t help feeling like I was responsible for last time.”

Syril’s carved features arrange themselves into a stern look. “Lysander’s choices are not your fault. Doing what he asks is natural — he’s still a prince, even one who’s young and unsure, and he has a strong pull on people. I don’t seek to keep him in a cage.”

“Neither do I,” I point out. “I didn’t take him there because he’s a prince. I did it because he was upset and he needed someone on his side.”

“He still should have known better than to put a human in danger,” Syril says firmly.

“But I understand. It’s been hard for him, being all but trapped here.

I’ve tried to make it as easy as possible, yet he’s been through a lot, and there are no magic words to make it all better.

I can’t hold him prisoner, only show him that he’s safest under my protection.

The azeroths are not to be trifled with. ”

“I’m getting that feeling.”

“You make a good ambassador to our world.” Syril’s thin lips quirk. “Now, what did you really come to talk about?”

I take a deep breath. “It’s my friend, Felix. Now that he’s back in the city, it doesn’t sit right with me to hide parts of my life from him. He’s like a brother to me. But the things you’ve shown me aren’t really mine to share.”

“You want to tell him about us,” Syril surmises.

“He’s a good person — loyal, kind, generous. I’ll vouch for him.” I hesitate. It hurts to even think of leaving Lysander behind. But in truth, Lysander has the whole community around him, and Fitzie only has me. “If that’s not okay with you, I’ll need to turn in my amulet.”

“You won’t have to do that,” Syril says gently. “The purpose of bringing on a human ambassador was to blend our worlds, and we can’t do that without opening our doors to more humans.”

I squeeze my fingers together. “I still don’t really understand…

why me? Outside of Fitzie, that’s sort of it when it comes to opening doors.

I burned bridges with a bunch of people, not that you’d want them anyway, and I don’t really have anyone else.

I haven’t done much in this world besides make friends. ”

And a little more than friends.

Syril hums. “Making friends is half the duty of an ambassador, wouldn’t you say?

Besides, Owyn Maddox recommended you, and I trust him — as scatterbrained as he might be, he’s rarely wrong.

Your friend will step up to whatever Fate has in store for him, too.

I foresee many changes for monster kind, but I’m not worried, and neither should you be. ”

I leave Syril’s office more confused than when I entered, which I’m starting to figure out is just the way of things.

“Can Syril see the future or something?” I ask Orion when I get back to the bar.

He bursts out laughing. “What? No, dude. They’re just a dryad.”

I groan. “Everyone keeps talking about magic, so I figured it was reasonable they could have some, you know, special abilities.”

“Like X-Men?” Orion smirks. “People say there are monsters who can see the future, but Syril’s not one of them.

Magic is just an innate thing for most of us.

Only witches can really do anything with it, but I don’t fuck with witches and neither should you.

” His shadows give a little shiver. “They give me the heebie-jeebies. By the way, you staying here tonight?”

I check my phone. Normally I’d be down for a movie, but since Fitzie is around, I don’t feel right abandoning him all the time.

I shake my head. “I’m heading home. You on shift tomorrow?”

“Sunday.” Orion shuts the register.

Who’s less scary to meet for the first time, him or Plato? I feel guilty even thinking it — Orion’s a good guy and a good friend, he’s just made of shadows and he has four flaming eyes.

On the other hand, Fitzie’s way better at handling shit than me.

“I’m off Sunday, but I’m gonna bring my buddy around,” I tell him, trying to stay casual. “He’s cool — you’ll like him.”

Orion grins through sharp teeth. “Oh, you have friends, huh? I was starting to think you’d sprung fully formed from Zeus’s leg four months ago.”

“Fuck you.” I flip him off good-naturedly. His laugh follows me out the door.

Fitzie doesn’t get nervous, but he’s uncharacteristically quiet on the drive to The Sanctum. I can’t stop tapping the steering wheel, my own nerves jumping.

“It’s gonna be fine,” I tell him. “They’ll love you.”

“I know,” he says, smoothing his curls.

“Everyone is really welcoming. You’ll fit right in.”

“Ez!” he huffs. “They’re your coworkers, not a cult.”

“Yeah,” I mutter.

Fitzie gets quieter and quieter when we actually get to the club. His eyes dart across the big, open floor, taking everything in. I try to remember what it was like the first time I came here. It looked like a normal club, right? A normal club that was intimidatingly posh.

I bring him to the staff room, the two amulets burning a hole in my pocket.

Plato lifts a hand in greeting. “Hey, Ez.”

He and Lilian are settled on the couch playing Call of Duty, and she waves shyly to me.

Behind them, Larch, the cook, is folding dish towels on the table.

It’s weird seeing them all in their human disguises, and it makes me realize I haven’t walked around here without wearing the amulet since Syril gave it to me. It’s just become second nature.

“Guys, this is my friend Felix.” I usher Fitzie into the room. “Be nice to him. He’s visiting from out of town.”

Plato does a double take and sits up, letting his controller fall to his lap. “Your friend?”

I catch the eager look on his face and sigh. “Come on, I have friends.”

“No you don’t,” Fitzie snarks.

“Nice to meet you, Felix.” Plato leans over the back of the couch and holds out a massive hand, grinning. “I’m Plato, one of the other bartenders.”

“I hope you’re bullying Ezra the way he deserves.” Fitzie shakes his hand. “You look too nice, though.”

“Nah, I leave that to Orion.” Plato chuckles.

“I can’t wait to meet him, in that case.”

When Fitzie has introduced himself to the rest of the room I relax slightly. It went fine. Nothing’s on fire. I just have to explain somehow that all these people are secretly not human, if he’ll just put on this magical necklace…

That’s gonna go well.

“They seem extremely normal.” In the hallway, Fitzie gives me a dark look. “What’s the catch? You’re being weird.”

“Nothing!” I yelp. Then, guiltily, “You’ll see.”

“I don’t like surprises, Ez.”

“Just… trust me. Please.”

He sighs. “So who’s Orion?”

“He should be at the bar by now.” I take him back down the hall. “Orion!”

“Yo —” Orion stops short. It’s extra weird seeing him in human form, I’m so used to his shadowy self. He gives Fitzie a slow once-over and puts a finger to his lips. “You’re Ez’s buddy.”

“Felix Fitzsimmons. My buddies call me Fitzie, for some godawful reason.”

“Fitzie. Cute. Like you.” Orion shakes his hand vigorously. “You’re a nicer sight than his ugly mug, that’s for sure. I’m Orion.”

“Hey,” I protest half-heartedly.

“Thanks.” Fitzie’s eyes glint. “Hot yoga and daily affirmations keep me youthful.”

“You ever been to a siren rave? You look like you can dance.”

I wince, but Fitzie takes it in stride. “I was a pro for two years. Ballet before that. Nowadays I only do parties if you ask really nicely.”

Orion chuckles. “Ezra’s lucky you’re not my type, or this would be the beginning of one hell of a toxic situationship.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of Fitzie. “I really was a stripper, y’know. I had to give it up when I started teaching dance to kids.”

“Babe, no one here will give a shit. Except Syril, they might try to enlist you for a cultural night . Don’t let them pressure you into it, or you’ll never be free of this place.”

Orion winks at me as we leave him behind at the bar. I grab a booth for us, extremely aware I’ve taken Lysander’s usual spot. He said he’d come down and I’m counting on it. In the meantime, I have some things to clear up.

“He seems nice,” Fitzie says quietly when I come back with drinks.

I slide into the bench. The music ratchets up and the door opens, admitting a handful of regulars. I take a sip of my drink, trying to find the right words.

“You’re freaking me out, Ez.”

“Sorry.” I tap my fingers on my leg. Maybe better just to blurt it all out. “Orion’s not human. He’s a shadow monster.”

Fitzie’s reddish brows slowly draw down. “Is that some kind of code?”