This horrible feeling that I had somehow lost him—this is what Considine was afraid of.
No wonder he acts the way he does. This is awful.
What made everything worse, though, was that I hadn’t told him I loved him.
I knew I loved him in a strength that scared me.
And I hadn’t told him.
I’d been so obsessed with waiting for the perfect moment and the best way to tell him. He’dwarnedme about my need for perfectionism, but I had ignored it. Now it was too late.
His absence was an ache that wouldn’t fade—a slayer survival instinct that wouldn’t settle.
How do I fix this?
“Would you like some tea?”
I almost jumped out of my skin—I’d been so focused I hadn’t heard Orrin enter the break room.
He held out a paper cup filled with tea that smelled so fragrantly of peppermint he couldn’t have made it with the store brand tea bags the break room was stocked with.
“Thank—er…” I briefly mashed my eyes together as I tried to think of a way to thank him without thanking him.
“It’s fine,” Orrin said. “I understand.”
I gave him the best smile I could muster, then took the tea and sipped it.
Tea wasn’t really my thing, but Orrin had sweetened it, and the minty flavor not only tasted good, it eased the sick feeling in my stomach that I’d had since Considine had been taken. “This is really good,” I said. “The flavor is nice, but it’s very comforting.”
This seemed to please Orrin more than my botched attempt to thank him. He nonchalantly tugged on his navy-blue uniform, fussing over it. “I am pleased you are enjoying it.” He did a quick inspection of the break room I’d been crashing in, nodding in satisfaction when he saw that I’d folded the blanket I’d been using and set it in an orderly pile with the faded, decorativepillow peppered with wolf fur that Brody had brought for me from the shifter offices.
“Shall we head to muster?” I asked. “It’s a bit early…but I’m kind of sick of this room.”
Orrin held the door open so I could step into the hallway. “I believe everyone is already here—I saw them in the locker room—so we can inquire about updates.”
I took another sip of the peppermint tea, the strain in my shoulders relaxing as we wound our way through the maze of the department. “There are no updates. I checked before I got showered. No one has found anything. Not even the Drakes. They’re starting to consider that Gisila took Considine out of Magiford, especially since he hasn’t called out to any of the vampires.”
“That’s not likely,” Orrin said. “Gisila is…obsessed with her goal,” his careful phrasing meant he was having to pick his way around his geas, so I glanced at him, watching for any clue he might try to drop.
Not that he hadn’t been trying since Considine was taken—whatever geas he had was unbelievably restrictive.
Orrin glanced at me again, his eyes lingering on the tea, so I took another sip.
“She is also the type to hold personal vendettas if she is kept from her goals,” Orrin said.
“Yeah, Considine said that was dragon shifter nature—that she hates me as an individual because I’ve personally wrecked her plans.” I said.
“Dragon shifters are, by nature, petty,” Orrin agreed. “So much so she’s not… Gloating is a treasure to her.”
“You mean to say it’s not likely she’s dragged him off because she’d want to be around to gloat?” I asked.
Orrin made a humming noise I took as an agreement the geas wouldn’t let him give. “Combined with her goal.”
“Gloating about an elf weapon that’s probably owned by Tutu herself?” I asked. “Do you mean Gisila’s obsession with the weapon goes deeper than just wanting something powerful, and it’s closer to a sibling rivalry?”
Orrin was silent.
“I’ll make a note of it,” I said.
