The hostess brings us wine without being asked—something that tastes like dark fruit and spice, smooth and complex in a way that screams expensive. I’m taking my second sip when a man emerges from what must be the kitchen.
Axton Marrow looks exactly like what you’d get if you crossed a chef with a mortician. He’s tall and lean, with graying hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and hands that move with the careful attention of someone who’s spent years working with very sharpinstruments. His chef’s coat is pristine white, but there’s something about the man that suggests he’s seen enough blood to last several lifetimes.
“Blue,” he says, clasping Blue’s hand with genuine warmth. “And the famous Saylor Mitchell. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”
“All good, I hope.” I stand to shake his hand, noting the way he assesses me with the same attention most chefs probably reserve for evaluating a perfect piece of fish.
“All promising,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Welcome to the Cavern. I trust you’ll enjoy the evening.”
“The food smells incredible,” I tell him.
“Wait until you taste it.” He glances at Blue. “The usual?”
“Surprise us,” Blue says. “But make sure the lady gets the full experience.”
Axton nods. “Consider it done. I’ll leave you to your conversation.” He gives a slight bow. “Enjoy your meal.”
As he disappears back into the kitchen, I turn to Blue. “He seems... intense.”
Blue gestures toward the windows where I can see the sea lion colony lounging on the rocks below. “You hear that sound?”
I listen to the barking and bellowing echoing up from below. “The sea lions?”
“They’re loud, messy, and they eat absolutely everything.” Blue takes a sip of wine. “Best neighbors Axton’s ever had.”
“I’m guessing there’s more to that story.”
“Three things matter when you need to make a problem disappear,” Blue says. “Where you do it, how you get rid of it, and when you need it gone.”
The waitress brings our first course without interrupting. I cut into whatever Axton has prepared—some kind of seared fish with a sauce that tastes like it has actual magic in it.
“Oh my god,” I moan, taking another bite. “This is incredible. What is this sauce?”
“Axton’s secret,” Blue says, watching me with amusement. “He’s got a way with flavors most people can’t replicate.”
I take another bite, practically melting in my chair. “I could eat this every day.”
“Just don’t order the meat pies,” Blue adds casually.
I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth. “Meat pies?”
“House specialty. The sea lions can’t get enough of them.”
“Like... shepherd’s pie?”
Blue meets my eyes across the table. “Uh... sure. Although I haven’t seen anyshepherdsaround Grimlock lately.”
The implication hits me like a cold wave. Oh.
“He’s feeding them...” I can’t quite finish the sentence.
Blue just raises an eyebrow and takes another bite of his dinner.
I sit back in my chair, staring at him. The casual way he just told me. The fact that I’m sitting here eating Axton’s incredible food while he’s apparently been turning people into sea lion snacks.
“That’s actually brilliant,” I say finally.
Blue’s smile spreads slowly across his face. “I knew you’d get it. Plus, nobody suspects the guy winning James Beard Awards.”
