Page 96 of The Fake Divination Offense
When the story’s done, our bowls are empty, and Bel seems to be, too.
“This was really good pasta,” he murmurs, drained, as he gingerly sets his empty bowl on the coffee table. “Thank you, Thio.”
Thio’s smile is cockeyed but sweet. “My pleasure. Sounds like it’s the least I could do after the day you’ve had. Hell, the past few years you’ve had.”
Bel sags into me on a sigh that’s tinged with disbelief, like he still can’t reconcile the calm way they’re accepting all this information.
But I can practically hear Seb’s brain spinning.
“The most pressing part of that story,” Seb starts, and his analytical gaze goes to me, “is that people are trying to kill him?”
“That’s why I texted you,” I say, rubbing a hand up and down Bel’s side. “We need the apartment warded. Like, airtight. And maybe a few warded charms he can wear at all times, in case I’m not with him. And can you make some illusion counter-potion, if I get you the components Bel’s adventure party uses?”
Bel twists to look at me, surprise and confusion in his tired eyes.
“So you can be in your own form around the house,” I tell him. “If you want?”
He smiles, eyes shiny. “I’d like that.”
My own smile stretches. “Good.”
“Consider it done.” Seb claps and jumps off the couch. “First, one magical Fort Knox, coming up. Baby?”
Thio’s already tugging a bag onto the couch while Seb gets to work unloading stuff from his component belt.
Bel’s head lists into my neck and he lets out another disbelieving sigh. “It’s that simple?”
Isit that simple?
I stare at the side of Seb’s face as he works, but he doesn’t look at me now.
Neither he nor Thio said much of anything through Bel’s story. No real questions, no prodding. Just easy acceptance.
Too easy.
“Yeah.” I press a kiss to Bel’s hair. “How about you get some rest? These spells could take a while.”
He lifts his head on a pout. “You have to be tired, too.”
“I’ll be right behind you.” I nod to the hall straight off the kitchen. “My room’s through there.”
“And you—” He swallows. Licks his lips. “You want me there. Not the guestroom.”
“This is real, remember? I want you there.”
Part of Bel relaxes slightly. But he seems to realize that when he leaves, a deeper conversation will be had; he’s not able to hide the shimmer of panic before he drops his head and pushes out of my lap.
“I’ll just—”
I grab his hand and tug him until I can claim his mouth with mine. “It’s all going to be okay now. I promise.”
“We promise, too,” Seb offers. “Ain’t no one getting past my wards. We’ll take care of you.”
Bel turns to Seb and Thio, who are still setting up items on my coffee table, our discarded dishes moved to the floor.
“Thank you,” he says to them, hands worrying at each other. “This isn’t at all what I expected, but—thank you. Really. I don’t know how to tell you—”
Thio waves him off. “You don’t have to.”
