Page 77 of The Fake Divination Offense
She pulls her phone out of a pouch on her component belt, checks it, and motions at Gulus. “I am needed elsewhere, but I will be in touch in the next few days with the final details, Mr. Monroe. For now, Gulus will remain as a temporary handler.”
Ilbryen hangs back until Bel slides out of my arms.
He smiles at her, tears leaking down his cheeks. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry I allowed things with Raussec to get so out of hand,” she tells him, her voice softening. “We have been short-staffed, and his addition to the team was made out of desperation, not strategy. His actions toward you on top of the leak we now apparently have—” Ilbryen stops, rocks her neck to the side until it cracks. “Well. Let’s just say we will be tightening things up a bit. Again, I am sorry, Belzaroth.”
He wipes the back of his hand against his face. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Do you—” He falters but catches himself. “You don’t think he’s the leak, do you?”
Someonetold the cultists that Galaxrien’s descendant is connected to the Urzoth church now. Would Tem really have been that petty and stupid?
“We are looking into it,” Ilbryen says. “But if he was the leak, the cultists would have moved againstyou, yes? We will keep an eye on Raussec. For now—” She looks at me, still talking to Bel. “Do not hesitate to reach out to me if you are mistreated or unhappy. Our staffing shortage is not your burden to bear. Your safety is our priority, and we will be much, much more discerning going forward.”
It’s a threat to me as much as it is a promise to Bel. Tem put them on alert; I won’t get away with shit.
Good—theyshouldbe on alert. About damn time.
With a final nod, Ilbryen leaves.
Gulus widens his stance, plants his arms behind his back, and settles in like he’s planning on standing here as long as we’re in the room. He’s bald and pale, with calculating blue eyes as shrewd as Ilbryen’s, and I know he’s meant to protect Bel, but I find myself pulling Bel closer to me, eyeing Gulus’s sudden intensity.
But Gulus breaks with a pulse of his lips in what must amount to a smile. “I’m kidding,” he says in a flat voice. “I am sure you two wish to talk privately. I will be outside.”
He vanishes without another word. Literally, actually vanishes, leaving a puff of green smoke behind.
Isn’t transportation magic illegal in city limits?
Not my problem.
Bel and I are alone in the quiet main room, but it suddenly doesn’t feel that way, alone or quiet. Details stack up around me, questions I need to ask and things I need to figure out. It really does feel like memorizing plays before a game, analyzing all the potential challenges and figuring out solutions:
I need to call Seb. Get him to start laying protective spells on my apartment. I’m sure Ilbryen or Gulus or whoever they assign will be able to do it, but their whole adventure party left Bel with Tem for months,knowinghow Tem was treating him, so their judgment is seriously in question. I want to build my own quasi-adventure party for Bel, and that includes Seb—but I’ll ask Bel first. It’s his secret, and I want him to know he has control over his protection.
I also need to check with my building, see what it would take to upgrade their security systems.
Bel fidgets in front of me.
I’ve been standing in place, eyes darting over the small square of carpet where Gulus vanished, for at least a few minutes. My eyes fly up to Bel and he’s chewing the corner of his lip, brows pinched, thumb picking at the finger of his opposite hand.
“Overwhelming, huh?” he asks, like he’s fighting to be lighthearted when all he wants is to sob again.
How do I explain that it’s overwhelming in thebestway? ThatI’m voraciously grateful I get to do this for him. That Iknowhe’ll be safe now, and it’s made me buoyant.
I still haven’t said anything. I can’t figure out whattosay that wouldn’t scare him off, and after he’s become dependent on me tokeep him alive.
Shit.
Bel shifts again, his painted toes digging into the carpet, and drops his chin to his chest. It’s then I realize his tail—he has a tail—has been carefully coiled around his ankle this whole time, like he’s trying to hide it.
I take his chin between my thumb and finger and lift his face to me.
“Are you okay?” I ask him.
He sputters a wet gasp. “AmIokay? You’re the one who just got signed up to be myhandler. Who’s going to have to share his house with me now. And who’ll get paidshitfor it, by the way—Tem complained constantly about how little he was compensated forputting up with my annoying ass.”
My lip curls in a snarl. “One day, I’ll need you to tell me everything he did or said to you. But for now, I need to know howyouare. Fuck the money; I don’t need the money. And I didn’tget signed upfor any of this—I volunteered. Iwantto do this for you. You, however, didn’t have much of a choice. It was this or being shoved into a hidden safehouse for the rest of your life.” I lower my hand from him no matter how much I hate not touching him. “I won’t have you feeling like you need to continue our relationship in order for me to protect you. My keeping you safe is separate from that.” Oh gods; I see the conclusion I’m coming to like headlights on a car barreling toward me. “We should… we should probably take it off the table entirely.”
Bel’s chest contracts. “What? Why?”
