Elliot sighs and rolls his neck.
“Iris, have I ever let someone disrespect you?”
His question sparks the many memories of him biting back at onlookers, challenging cocky wolves, and even breaking bones in my name.
I shake my head.
“No.”
“Then why would I start now?”
He snatches the book in my hand and makes his way back up the ladder before I can respond, which is fine by me because I don’t have anything smart left to say anyway.
We continue in silence for a long while, me trailing after Elliot and his enchanted ladder, him muttering to it under his breath.
He finds a rhythm in the work, slipping up and down the ladder quickly and thumbing through the books on the shelf, organizing them without much thought. For a second, I think he might even forget I’m here.
The usual tension in his shoulders dissipates after a while, and the subtle smirk disappears from his face.
Elliot likes it in here. More than he’s letting on.
Once the carts at the front are cleared, he transports us to the back of the store, where a small seating area has been set up. Nothing spectacular, just an old rug and a few armchairs and footstools organized in an odd circle. A place to read if you feel like getting lost.
He offers me a seat before disappearing and returning a moment later with tea in hand.
“I know you like elderflower and wolfsbane, but Tree says this will fix anything. Knowing him, it’s probably just plain tea, but I don’t know. Worth a shot.”
He hands me the little porcelain cup, a warm, citrusy scent wafting up in a cloud of steam. As I sip it, my body loosens, the hollow feeling in my stomach dissipating.
Elliot settles into the plush armchair across from me, and my tea grows cold before he speaks again.
“I think we should kill her,” he says finally, setting his empty cup on the floor.
I sputter and cough as my tea slides down the wrong pipe.
“What?” I wheeze, trying to clear my throat. “Kill who?”
“Our new friend,” he says. “Seems like the simplest solution. Since she doesn’t want to listen to reason.”
“Simple? What about that could possibly be simple?”
“I didn’t say simple. I said simplest. There’s a difference.”
Ugh. He’s such a smartass.
“What even happened?” I ask.
Elliot shrugs and spends the next few minutes prying at his leather choker as he tells me of their encounter in the alley, including how she was dressed and the words she said. I can tell he leaves some things out, but he makes sure to detail the part where he threatened her and absolutely didnottry to kiss her. And when he’s done, my head hurts more than it did before.
“Then who took this picture of you two?” I ask, a lump beginning to form in my throat.
“I don’t know, but I’ll kill them too. Don’t worry about it.”
He says this as if it is so ordinary among us.
Hey, how was your day? Good, killed a few people. You?
Gods, he’s fucking psychotic.
