Iflexed my fingers and ignored the itch in my elbow, which was more than likely my nerves based on how sweaty I was getting. “Is there a reason for why a fae would drink hot water?” I asked. “Is he, maybe, afraid of poisons or something?”
“What’s the situation?” Grove asked.
“I visited Orrin—with Captain Reese’s permission,” I rushed to add.
Grove and Medium-Sized Robert stared at me for a moment.
“And?” Medium-Sized Robert finally added in his rumbly voice.
“He was drinking hot water from a paper cup.”
“Ah.” Grove leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, he probably wants tea.”
I paused, trying to follow the deduction. “Pardon?”
“Fae are big into tea, you know?” Grove said.
“Yes,” I slowly said—I vaguely knew fae loved tea. All the places that catered to them carried tea. “But I thought that was more of a preference thing—liking tea over coffee.”
Medium-Sized Robert shook his head. “No, Ma’am,” he said. “It’s a cultural custom. Fae view tea as necessary for life—almost as necessary as a connection with the fae realm.”
“Oh,” I said—it was all I could think to say. “I didn’t know that.”
“Did you see any mugs or cups anywhere?” Grove asked.
I shook my head.
“Yeah, then he definitely wants tea,” Grove said.
“He’s being held by werewolves, yes?” Medium-Sized Robert asked. “They probably didn’t think to ask him, and there’s no way he will risk asking for tea when it’s possible it could be construed as a favor.”
“That would put him in their debt,” Grove added for my benefit.
“And debts are bad?” I asked.
“In fae culture? Oh yeah. It’s the worst.” Grove nodded so hard he rocked his entire body, and his arms—resting on the edge of the table—made the table shake, so the potions in their glass vials wobbled dangerously. “Fae want to avoid being in someone’s debt—it gives them power over you. You will eventually have to pay them back, and you probably won’t like the way they make you return the favor.”
Wow, yeah, I was punching way above my level. I scratched the back of my neck. “Okay. Thank you. That’s very helpful.”
Grove saluted me—which made me want to sink through the floor in embarrassment. “Of course. But, in warning, Blood, be careful you don’t say thank you to Orrin—a really sneaky fae would use that as a toehold and say you owe them.”
I grimaced. “Of course. I’ll work on that—I need to do more research.”
Grove nodded, then went back to his bottles, but Medium-Sized Robert studied me a moment longer.
“You know a lot about vampires, wizards, and even shifters, but not fae,” he said.
“I grew up studying vampires and wizards,” I said.
“And the shifters?” Medium-Sized Robert asked.
“I trained with werewolves,” I said. I debated if I should tell him about my experience with summer camp but it took me too long to think it over, so Medium-Sized Robert nodded, then lowered his gaze to Grove’s poison/potion collection before I had a chance to speak.
With the obvious end to our conversation, I judged it was best to not make things awkward and wandered back to my spot.
So. Orrin wants tea, but he won’t risk asking for it. Hmm…
“I win—I don’t have any cards in my hand,” April said as the human-vampire-shifter card game continued.
“Ugh—in that case, I have lost. The old maid has struck—I perished,” Tetiana declared.
“The old maid doesn’t kill you,” Juggernaut repeated as he collected the cards and started shuffling.
I sat down at my spot, then felt my phone buzz. Technically, my shift still hadn’t started, so I pulled my cellphone out to see that I’d gotten a text from Paddy, my paternal grandfather.
Paddy
Haven’t heard from you, so thought we should check in.
I glanced at the clock, then tapped out and sent a reply.
I’m fine—I’ll call you tomorrow. I want to pick out another family recipe to try making.
Paddy
Good for you wee one! Have a good shift at work tonight. Nan sends her love with mine.
I had just enough time to tap out a similar reply before the door swung open and Sarge strode inside, heading for the wooden podium placed at the front of the room.
I slipped my phone back into place, then picked up my slayer mask and settled in to listen.
“Why are humans so obsessed with water?” Grove leaned over the wooden railing of the boardwalk, peering into the inky darkness that was Lake Fairy. The black water reflected the silvery chunk of moon that hung in the sky, and the streetlamps posted on the opposite side of the boardwalk.
I paused next to Grove but kept a watchful eye on Brody, who was about a car length in front of us leading our patrol along the shores of two lakes that marked out the northern border of Magiford’s downtown area.
“Humans use bodies of water for entertainment purposes.” I checked the daggers on my belt. “Fishing, boating, swimming,” I recited. “Don’t fae do that?”
“Nope. We’re more likely to sit on the water’s edge and enjoy its beauty while taking tea. In the fae realm, you have no idea what could be lurking under the water’s surface.” With that cheerfully ominous thought, Grove crouched down and slipped his arm through the railing. “Did you ever do stuff on lakes?”
I was surprised, then excited—Grove was asking me a question about myself! This was an opportunity I could use to build our friendship instead of responding in the stiff way most of the team talked to me that was maybe respect. “Occasionally,” I said. “The nature of our work meant we usually stuck to urban areas. However, my family—including my extended family—had get togethers on a certain lake every couple years to take a break.”
“Wow,” Grove said. “I don’t know if I’m more surprised that a family of what is obviously a bunch of workaholics—considering they produced you—actually took the occasional vacation, or happy for you because I kind of thought you didn’t have a childhood.” Grove pressed closer to the railings. I think he was trying to touch the lake, but this late at night the lake was eerie because you couldn’t quite tell where the water surface was or see into it. Even when he stretched, he didn’t touch the water. Instead, his satchel slipped off his side and nearly slammed him into the railing.
I caught him by the shoulders, steadying him, as I tried to come up with a coherent response to his estimation of my childhood. I had a great childhood, but how do I say that without sounding defensive? I belatedly realized that I was possibly overstepping his boundaries by touching him, and I froze.
Before I had time to spiral in my doubt, Grove regained his balance. “Woops, thanks, Blood.”
I let him go and backed up to give him space. “Sure.”
Ahead of us, Brody tipped his head back sniffing the air. “One of the bars has a new special this month—deep fried pickles,” he announced.
“Does it smell good?” Grove dusted himself off, then trotted up to the werewolf.