Glyma laughed wetly. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Quin said, and when Glyma kissed her, she knew she was exactly where she was always meant to be.
Passing Through Cafe
Glyma
Four months later
The kitchen was swelteringbecause one of the oven fans wasn’t working. It had been performing perfectly yesterday, but when Glyma came down this morning at three a.m., she flipped the switch and… nothing. The other was running fine, thankfully, but it wasn’t enough to cut through the heat completely. Glyma was sweating, even in her sundress, and she used her shoulder to wipe away a stray hair that had escaped her ponytail.
Even with the heat and the sweat, she was still happy. Because today was the day. After years of longing and planning, aftersix months of hard work and four months of even harder work, opening day was finally here.
Getting the rental building ready had been a huge pain in the ass, but with Quin’s contacts and lots and lots of elbow grease, they’d managed. Waryn had stayed in the Pentagram for a few months after the whole debacle with Quin’s mom, helping them paint and clean, while he prepared for his big move through the veil.
As he was waiting to hear about his academic residency at Cambridge, Waryn planned to travel through some human country called the United Kingdom and see the sights. He’d left a few weeks ago, and Quin and Glyma had seen him off at the station. Saying goodbye had been harder than Glyma had expected, especially for Quin.
Even if they had never beeninlove, they still loved each other fiercely, and they’d both cried before he’d hopped a train to the human realm. Of course, Glyma had made it her mission to turn Quin’s frown upside down, so they’d spent the rest of the day in her new flat above the cafe making love.
She called ithernew flat, but Quin stayed there with her so often it should have been calledtheirnew flat. Sure, Quin hadn’t officially moved out of the house she and Waryn had lived in, but she was planning on it, since it was technically owned by one of her family’s businesses. Her mother hadn’t made any move to kick her out, but it was only a matter of time.
Yes, Glyma’s little temper tantrum—which is what she insisted on calling it—had kept Quin’s mother away, but neither of them knew how long it would last. How long until Claryn’s fear of what Glyma was, what she could become, would pass? How long until her ego grew stronger than her wariness, and she decided to come after them?
There had already been rumors spreading like wildfire about Quin. How could there not be when she and Waryn had brokenup, then left the public eye with no explanation. Glyma was sure some of the rumors had been started by none other than Claryn herself, but other than hearsay and whispers, there had been nothing in the papers.
Glyma didn’t care if there ever was, but she knew Quin checked, every morning like clockwork. A quick scan of the front page of the newspaper or the cover of a magazine—just in case.
The adjustment hadn’t been easy for Quin in a lot of ways, which made sense. Caged animals never knew what to do when given freedom. At least, not at first.
It was one of the reasons, Glyma thought, that Quin had thrown herself into the cafe the way she had. She still worked her own job, but every spare minute, she was in Purgatory with Glyma. On her hands and knees, scrubbing at the grout in the walk-in cooler. Head first in the oven, scraping at old grime. In the dining area, hair held back with a bandana, painting the walls lavender.
She’d gotten paint on her nose, and Glyma had laughed and laughed.
Some nights, after they fell asleep in each other’s arms, Glyma would wake and find Quin sitting on the edge of the bed, not doing anything, just staring into the dark. Right beside her, but a million miles away. A touch of a hand, and she’d return, meeting Glyma’s eyes over her shoulder with a soft smile.
Time, Glyma told herself—and maybe some therapy. It would take time for Quin to learn what life could be like, should be like, when she was living for herself and herself alone. And Glyma had all the time in the world. She’d waited this long to find Quin after all; she’d wait however long it took to see Quin absolutely shine.
“That girl didn’t show,” Tad said, startling Glyma from her thoughts, and she jerked her head up, finding the Anura standing between the swinging doors. Tad was a strange littlething. She’d trailed them out of Quin’s parents’ house and had never really left. She’d followed them to the cafe and announced that she, whether they liked it or not, would be their dishwasher.
She expected a fair wage, of course, and she wouldn’t work too early because she had an active night life out there, didn’t they know? But yeah, she’d clean the dishes if they paid her right and they paid her fair. And she wouldn’t breathe a word of Glyma’s affliction, so they didn’t have to threaten her. If anything, she wouldn’t mind another preview if Glyma was ever feeling crabby.
Yeah, Tad was an odd one, but Glyma liked her.
“What girl?” Glyma asked, and Tad hooked a webbed thumb over her shoulder.
“The one you taught to use the espresso machine. She’s not coming, apparently.”
“What?” Glyma cried, punching the kriltcake dough in frustration. “She’s the second one to bow out before opening. And today of all days!”
Waddling further into the kitchen, Tad drummed her padded fingers on the steel table. “Quin can work the espresso machine, right?”
“A little. But she’s supposed to run the register since the other girl, Jeani, quit last week.”
“Why’d she quit?” Tad asked.
“She ‘got a sudden and unexpected opportunity,’ apparently,” Glyma said, making finger quotes. “Don’t tell Quin, but I think her mother may be behind it.”
“She’s a right bitch, that one,” Tad said, bulbous green eyes gleaming. “I might have to steal more shit from her.”
