What better punisher than the Devil?
* * *
There were far too many people here.
Bay stood just within the entrance of the crowded noodle restaurant, glancing around at the patrons. It was a busy evening with few empty seats available, and for a moment he was certain he’d gotten the wrong location. He couldn’t be seen even talking with Sila here, not when there were too many eyes that could recognize who they were.
Technically, there was no rule about student/teacher relationships at Vail, mostly because at one point twenty or so years ago, apparently a Brumal member fell for her science professor and the school didn’t dare try to keep them apart.
Still. It pretty much went without saying it was taboo and frowned upon. He might not lose his job the same way he would if it were discovered he was Pandaveer, but he’d be ostracized all the same. There was no need to make things more difficult for himself than they needed to be.
He checked the message for the third time, still convinced he had the wrong place.
“Excuse me,” a waitress possibly around the same age as him approached with a friendly smile. “Are you Bay Delmar?”
“Yes.” He closed his multi-slate and forced his pressed lips to curve slightly. “I am.”
“Perfect.” She held an arm out to the side, indicating a tight pathway between two of the four rows of square tables. All of the tables either had two or four seats, the color scheme a mixture of warm tones, like bright reds and rusty oranges. The door was located on one side, with the kitchen on the opposite. “Your table is ready for you.”
“I didn’t make a reservation.” He hadn’t even been aware places like this took reservations.
“Your friend did it for you,” she explained as she led him to the back corner where a lone table rested. “He already placed your order as well. It’ll be right out, but please let me know if you need anything else.”
Answers would be nice. Since she clearly wasn’t the one who’d be able to supply them, Bay merely smiled politely and took his seat.
The wall was to his back—a large mural of a waterbridge bird scarfing down noodles painted over the entire expanse of it—the floor to ceiling window that overlooked the street to his left and filled tables at his front and side. There was only one other chair at his table, and he was expecting Sila to arrive to fill it when the devil called him again.
“Where are you?” Bay demanded, skipping over the pleasantries this time.
“You sound miffed, Professor.”
“I’m not—” He pinched the bridge of his nose, just above his glasses. “This is not at all how I pictured spending my night.”
“Oh,” Sila let out a knowing chuckle, his deep timbre sending shivers skittering up Bay’s spine. “I get it. You’re disappointed about the venue. Are you sulking, Kitten?”
“Try to remember that I am older than you,” Bay stated, only to have Sila snort.
“I’m not the one with a bad memory. Whenever and however I want, that’s what you agreed to. The food is coming.”
The waitress from earlier returned with a steaming bowl of dumplings and placed it carefully in front of him. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you.” Bay just wanted her to leave so he could continue his conversation with Sila. He tapped the earbud in his right ear so she’d catch on he was on a call, and she nodded and then left him alone. “Why dumplings?”
“You like them,” Sila said matter-of-factly. “They also take less work than noodles and, in a moment, you’re going to find it difficult to use a pair of chopsticks. I was thinking ahead for you. You’re welcome.”
Bay latched on that middle part like a dog with a bone. “Why?”
“Getting ahead of yourself there,” he chided. “Try one first. Make sure they didn’t give you the wrong kind before we proceed. I don’t want any interruptions once we start, and trust me, neither do you.”
Even knowing it was ridiculous taking orders from his student, Bay dutifully picked up the set of metal chopsticks and selected a round dumpling from the bowl. It was warm and flavorful, with a hint of spices and a bit of sweetness at the end.
“Roast ternog,” Bay said, knowing Sila would want to know.
“Good.” That was the only indicator that they’d given him the right order.
Bay took another bite and waited, mentally reminding himself not to let his guard slip. This was a dangerous game, even more since he had no clue what was actually going on. There was no way Sila had called him out here just to feed him, especially when the younger man was nowhere in sight.
He’d done a thorough check when he’d first arrived. The restaurant may be packed, but there was no way Sila could have blended in with the crowd enough for Bay to have missed him. After months of watching the guy from afar, Bay could pick him out of a mass of a hundred, let alone the thirty currently filling the medium sized space.
