A real chance at making this proposal stick.
Rose made a few notes in the margins of her parchment—just observations, not another mile-long list of things to do. Okay, maybe one more thing, but Dav’s voice was whispering in the back of her mind, so she limited herself to averydetailed note.
She tucked the quill into her bag, regretting not bringing a snack along. But she was in the art district, and what better way to understand the very place she was hopingto support than with their food? Home to her had always centered around meals and maybe that was part of the magic she could highlight.
Rosalind had just located a restaurant with a bright yellow façade and a painted image in the window that looked a bit like Papa’s dumplings when she did a double take.
Davarox.
At least, she thought it was him. He’d turned down the small side street and out of sight before she could confirm. Not in a rush, but at a clip that told Rose he had somewhere to be.
But… she could say hello. See if he was interested in getting lunch with her. There was that small detail about the bakery ledger she’d thought of, but she’d only ask if it came up naturally. Obviously, it was fine if he had other things to do, but just a quick interaction would really soothe the lingering effects of her earlier panic.
Rose changed directions, hurrying down the street to try to catch him and dodging the flow of demons headed in the other direction. As she turned the corner, she caught a glimpse of his tail just before it disappeared inside a doorway.
She slowed as she neared, glancing up to the painted sign that had symbols like the rune bracelet on her wrist. A language she couldn’t read to decipher what was inside, particularly with the entirely brick façade and dark wooden door with no window.
Hesitating, she considered her options. Maybe it was a small shop, and she could have conveniently been planning on stopping here. Or she could turn around and go back to her boring day.
Then again, it’s not like Davarox would beupsetto see her. She was… fairly certain about that.
Decision made, Rosalind took a fortifying breath and stepped inside.
To an empty room.
Well, empty of demons. There was an open door in the back and a few shelves lining the walls of the shop, wares ranging from clothing to glass figurines to framed art. She frowned at the painting of a seven-legged creature clinging to the edge of the Aldgate Scar withhang in therein looping script at the bottom.
As odd as everything was, the strangest part was that in this small space, there was no sign of Dav. Rose crept toward the back, where she found an empty counter with a stool next to the darkened beyond.
“Hello?” she said quietly, then a little louder, “Anyone?”
Maybe it wasn’t the most polite to go snooping around, but now Rose was curious. She was fairly certain she hadn’t imagined seeing Dav, and even more certain this was the shop he’d gone into, so it would make sense that he’d be in the back.
So into the back she went.
It wasn’t much different than the front—a few leaning shelves that were mostly empty—but therewas a well-worn path made by feet and tails that led to a closed door. Not the door that clearly led toward the back alley, but the one that didn’t make logical sense against a wall that should have gone into the neighboring building. A building Rosalind had been quite sure was boarded up and closed.
Hesitantly, she wrapped her hand around the knob.
“This is fine,” she whispered to herself. “Dav’s in here and everything is going to be fine. He’s not in the middle of some illegal baking deal or demon cult or?—”
No. He was not cheating on her.
She took one more fortifying breath before pushing the door open. A staircase greeted her, lit with demonlights of several different colors illuminating the empty path down. Muffled sound echoed its way up, telling her she’d at least gone in the right direction.
Despite knowing demons had good enough hearing to be aware of someone approaching, Rosalind still snuck down the wooden staircase, trying and failing to rationalize what might be down here that would require Davarox to be so secretive about it. Then again, there were a lot of things that Dav seemed to be secretive about, or at least extra cautious about when Rosalind was around. Hells, even when Laz was around. They’d ask about his previous evening, and he’d shrug and give less than ten words about doing nothing. He’d been caught dozing at his worktable a few times, which Laz said wasn’t so much out of the ordinary but worried him all the same.
And then there were the few times over the last week thatRose had been working with him on their ledger and asked about a mismatched sum. Those were the times when Davarox really shut down and dismissed it. Blamed it on his own forgetfulness to record sales and tips.
The demon who counted sprinkles and could measure simply by looking at a pile of sugar forgot about tips.
Sure, Dav.
Rosalind still hadn’t come up with some theory as towhyDavarox would risk himself and Laz, even the business, when she made it to the bottom of the staircase.
“Another fucking door?”
Criminal baking mob was starting to look more and more plausible, but she’d come this far, and it would be a waste to turn around and confront him about this later.
