His voice had been completely serious, and it didn’t leave any room for doubt. Despite herself, Zina believed him – but she was still surprised.
“Yes.” He nodded. “I know what kind of place Hargreaves is, and what kind of things they’d stoop to – especially when it comes to mythical shifters. I have a friend who…” He grimaced slightly, cutting himself off. “Well, maybe I can tell you about that later. Right now, food’s here.”
Zina looked up as the waitress – the same one who’d taken Trent’s order – approached the table, two steaming bowls in her hands. She completely ignored Zina, but made sure to give Trent her biggest, brightest smile as she put their meals down on the table in front of them.
“Here you go – two pie floaters and chips. Enjoy.”
“Thanks,” Trent said, giving her a small, polite smile.
“No problem. If you need anything, just let me know.” The waitress winked at him as she stood up, before sashaying slowly away – but Zina couldn’t help but notice that Trent’s eyes remained fixed on her own face, without showing the slightest bit of interest in the waitress’s swaying hips at all.
It was harder than Zina wanted to admit to look away from his eyes.
When she did, though, dropping them to the plate in front of her, she frowned.
“Uh. What is this?”
She stared down at the… meal… sitting in front of her.
“Just what the lady said,” Trent said, picking up his knife and fork. “Pie floater and chips.”
“No, Iheardwhat she said,” Zina told him. “I just didn’t understand it.”
Looking at the food in questionreallywasn’t enlightening her any further either. What exactly was she evenlookingat?
“It’s the classic!” Trent said enthusiastically. “You can’t come to Adelaide and not have a pie floater. Look – it’s a meat pie, sitting in a bowl of pea soup. And then you get chips on the side. It’s great. All the food groups in one.”
Zina opened her mouth, realized she hadabsolutely nothingto say to that, and closed it again.
“Thefood groups?” she finally managed to sputter out.
“Yeah – vegetables, soup, and pie,” Trent said, as he sawed a massive chunk off his meat pie, before using it to scoop up some of his pea soup. He put the whole huge thing into his mouth, chewing enthusiastically. “C’mon – aren’t you hungry? It’ll get cold.”
Maybe I can just have the chips,Zina thought. They at least looked safe enough – like thick French fries.
“No, have some meat!” Trent said, as Zina picked up one of the chips. “You’ve had a long day, and I don’t think this is over yet – not by a long shot. You’ll need to keep your strength up while we figure out where to go from here.”
Zina knew he was right – about what they were doing being far from over,notabout whether or not she should eat some pie floater. But as her stomach gurgled hungrily, she realized that right now, she’d probably eat just about anything, no matterwhatit was orwhatit was called.
“All right. Fine,” she muttered, picking up her knife and fork.
The pie floater, despite the name, turned out to be surprisingly decent – the pie was rich and savory, and it was offset by the mild, fresh taste of the pea soup. Zina had to admit that for something with floater in the title, she was pleasantly surprised. Add the salty tang of the chips, and all in all, she was left… weirdly satisfied at the end of the meal.
She supposed this was a lesson not to judge a book by its cover… or a meal by its absolutely horrific-sounding name.
As she and Trent began cleaning up the last of their pea soup and pie gravy with their remaining chips, Trent looked across at her, his voice low and serious once again.
“I’m sure you already know this, but I don’t exactly have official sanction to be out here looking for you right now,” he said. “You told me everything – and I believe you. So now it’s time for me to be honest with you. My boss asked me if I knew you – if I remembered you from when we met back in London.”
Zina swallowed, a cold, hard knot forming in her stomach. Suddenly, she wasn’t that interested in finishing her food.
“I told him I didn’t – well, not really, anyway, not any more than I’d remember someone I met on a mission. I told him I had no reason to think you’d contact me. That was before you actuallydid, so it wasn’t technically a lie.”
Despite herself, Zina laughed a little. “Well, you were right,” she said. “I really didn’t have any reason, except for the fact that I was getting desperate.”
Trent said nothing to that, and when Zina looked up at him she saw the same strange, almost pained, confused expression on his face, before he inhaled a quick, sharp breath, and then cleared his throat.
“Well, be that as it may, youhavecontacted me now. And I’ve thrown my lot in with you. I’ll have my own agency on the lookout for me. It’s possible I can explain things to them… but youdohave a burn notice. It won’t be easy to convince them you’re someone who can be trusted. Not to mention the obligation we have to informyouragency if we find you.”
