The waitress gave her a cheeky wink. Whatever annoyance Atria might have had — certainly due to her dreadful lack of caffeine — faded at the sight of the fey’s clear delight on her behalf. “Jam for the princess. Give me just a minute and I’ll be back to take your orders.”
Atria let out a small huff as she sauntered off, wings twitching.
Until she went to college, her experience with the fey was limited to the few pilgrims who came to the Sanctuary. Of course, after that, she encountered them often with her volunteer work for the m-siphon liberation group, and in the bars in downtown Seattle.
On the whole, she found the fey to be some of the most eccentric, accepting people on the planet. A covey didn’t think twice about inviting you to dinner, or asking you to babysit their kids. They showed up in droves to support their coveymates, and if you needed help, they didn’t hesitate. They had the same principles ofcommunity firstthat Atria had grown up with in the Sanctuary, which she had always found immensely comforting.
While there were many reasons her research would benefit the world, the one she held closest to her heart was how it could eliminate feyrunning entirely. The horror of being used for m-siphons had dogged the fey for centuries.
The fey were one of the few beings whose bodies could withstand intense magical manipulation, allowing them to be shrunk and kept in stasis. Most m-siphons were small — boxes, jars, lockets, and just about anything a feyrunner had on hand — and high quality ones could be sold for immense sums. Once sealed in a container, the fey would be used as a magical battery until they either went mad from the isolation or died from over-drainage.
The horrors were something she’d seen firsthand. She’d originally offered her expertise to the liberation group to meet her required volunteer hours in college, but it only took one release — a man named Gavin who’d been held in a coffee tin, of all things — to radically change her path.
Playing a part in destroying the feyrunning industry meant everything to her. Looking back, that was a part of their mission that Norman never truly grasped.
It was only after their breakup that he began to spend a lot of time with the fey, though his relationships appeared to fizzle out as soon as they began. He didn’t fit in with them nearly as well as she did, apparently. That was no surprise. As she’d come to realize, Norman was an utterly self-centered man. The only community that mattered to him was the scientific one.
“What are you thinking about?”
She jolted. Eyes swinging back to Kaz, who sat spread-limbed on the other side of the small booth, she answered automatically, “Ah, nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
Arching a brow, she asked, “And are you an expert on my expressions now, Mr. Rione?”
Was that his boot she felt nudging her sandal? Atria didn’t give the vexing man the satisfaction of looking down to check, but she was certain he’d just hooked his heel behind hers.
“No, but I’m going to be,Miss Le Roy.”
She did not understand what the half-orc’s game was, but going by the way she flushed with pleasure, Atria couldn’t say she hated it.
People tended to fall into two camps when interacting with her: distant reverence or dismissal. Her tattoos told most people everything they needed to know about her — good and bad.
Kaz didn’t seem to care about her past as a priestess. He was entirely irreverent and borderline rude. He bossed her around and took her sass without any trouble. It was immensely refreshing.
Because she secretly relished the lack of unearned respect, she quipped, “That’sDoctorLe Roy, thank you.”
Kaz’s lips quirked up in a tiny smile as he gave her foot a nudge, pulling it a little closer to his side of the booth. She could feel the heat of his calf through his jeans, the press of the inner side of his knee where it now rested against the outside of hers.
Eyelids lowered in a lazy half-mast, he purred, “Sexy. I still prefer princess, though.”
Atria’s cheeks heated. “I amnota—”
“One coffee, a water, and toast with jam!”
She jolted again as the chipper waitress expertly deposited a plain white mug, a plastic glass, and a small oval plate of white bread toast with packets of jam on the side onto the table.
Atria mumbled her thanks as she shrank back into her side of the booth, preoccupied with the fact that Kaz hadabsolutelybeen flirting with her. Her eyes darted guiltily to his darkened hand as he lifted the glass up to his mouth. They moved away just as quickly.
I’m no better than the waitress,she thought, face heating,because I was definitely flirting back.
“Now, what can I getcha?”
There was a moment of silence before Atria realized both the waitress and Kaz were waiting for her answer. She stared blankly down at the menu. She’d been too distracted to peruse it.
“Ah,” she began, giving the waitress a helpless look, “I don’t know. Can I just have your biggest, greasiest breakfast plate?”
The fey bobbed her head, making her short blonde ponytail flutter. “Sure thing. How do you like your eggs, cutie?”
