What the heck. The day squad is picking up on this respect thing? Why? How?
The werewolf took the paper bag and opened it. She took a delicate sniff before sticking her face inside the bag and sniffing again.
She abruptly pulled her face free and sneezed twice. “No magic. But it’s lavender and…green tea?”
“Yes,” I said. “I asked the barista to pick out two popular flavors with fae. He said the green tea is one of their best sellers.”
The werewolf twitched her nose before she folded the top of the bag for me. “And the lavender?”
“The barista said he thinks all fae need to drink lavender tea—he implied that fae are hooked on caffeine and need to detox,” I said.
The werewolf nodded, her expression impassive. “I see. Well, they’re cleared—there are only herbs in the mixes. Let me get the door.” She turned, blocking my view as she lowered whatever extra magical defenses were placed on the room, then pushed the door open for me.
“Thank you,” I tried to make my voice what some of my books about communication describe as ‘warmed with a smile’ since she couldn’t see my face with my mask on.
The werewolf didn’t seem to notice. She slightly bowed her head as I ducked past her and slipped into Orrin’s room.
It looked exactly the same as before—eggshell white walls, a cot with precisely folded blankets stacked on it, a boxy end table, and a coffee machine that was plugged into the sole electrical outlet in the room.
Orrin was seated on the only chair, and he once again was drinking what looked like hot water from a paper to go cup.
Maybe next time I should bring him a thermos—unless that could be counted as a weapon? But they’re letting him brew hot water, which seems more dangerous.
I took a deep breath and tried to tap into my work mode, which would make me feel much less awkward about this. “Hello, Orrin.”
Orrin looked up from his steaming cup. “Vampire-slayer-who-fights-with-vampires.”
I held the paper bag out, which seemed to crinkle extra loud in the tiny, enclosed space. “I brought you some tea.”
Orrin slowly blinked. “What?”
“I got some loose-leaf tea from the Queen’s Court Café.”
Orrin didn’t seem inclined to take the bag, so I set it on the boxy end table in front of him.
“This is a gift—a human gift, so you don’t have to pay it back. It’s not a favor,” I clarified. “You don’t have to do anything in return.”
Orrin’s mouth tightened slightly. “You mean to say it’s a bribe? I’m disappointed, Slayer-who-fights-with-vampires. I thought you were smarter than such a paltry trick.”
“It’s not a bribe,” I said. “You have a geas. A little tea isn’t going to make you able to talk over that. It just seems like you could use it.”
Orrin eyed the paper bag as if it were a snake. “Right. I’m sure that’s all you were thinking. That’s why you brought tea—one of the only things fae publicly claim to favor.” He pointedly looked away from it and instead picked up his paper cup, resting the bottom on the palm of his left hand and placing the fingers of his right hand snuggly against the cup’s right side.
“It wasn’t really that deep a thought,” I said. “I got tea because one of my fae teammates said you probably weren’t being given tea since werewolves were holding you.”
Orrin ignored me and sipped his water.
I glanced at his food tray—which once again had some crumbs and an empty cup which I assumed had held water.
He’s getting fed, but there’s no way it’s as fancy as his fae palate would prefer.
I folded my arms behind my back, settling into place and studying Orrin as the fae pointedly ignored me.
Orrin looked much the same.
His time in the room didn’t appear to have put any strain on him, although he seemed oddly resigned.
He’s not causing any trouble, but it doesn’t seem like he expects any help.
I couldn’t pretend to guess what his angle was—fae were tricky, and there was no telling how deep the rabbit hole went. Between him, the issue of Gisila, and House Tellier, I’d rather deal with House Tellier.
I watched Orrin sip his hot water, then asked, “Have you been kept appraised of your punishment?”
“I am aware they still have not settled on one. The humans are being difficult,” Orrin said.
“By difficult, you mean they reacted negatively when the Curia Cloisters offered to send you to Ghast prison,” I said. “And they already rejected a generational fine.”