Page 33 of Monsters and Mocha

She gently dropped her head on the smooth, cool surface of the counter and closed her eyes. “I have to leave for work soon, but I need some of your magic to make my magic work.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always serious about coffee.”

“Darby, you were just attacked in your own workshop, and we still don’t know who did it or why.”

She turned her head enough to afford a clearer view of him. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and he stood with his legs wide, as if bracing for a fight. “Nobody is going to try to hurt me in a hospital. There are too many witnesses. Besides, what better place to be injured than a building full of doctors?”

“You can’t even sit up right now.”

“Yes, because I need an energy boost. Once I get some coffee into my system, I’ll be able to give myself some healing magic.”

He grunt, obviously not pleased, but turned to his coffee machine. “Mocha?”

“Always.”

While Henry busied himself making her drink, Fitz slid onto the stool beside her. “Robertson and I took a look at your workshop this morning. From what I can tell, nothing is missing, though you would know for sure.”

“It sure seems like they were looking for something, though,” Robertson added, sipping a mug of his own coffee. “Any idea what that might have been?”

“No.” She pushed up onto her elbows. “There isn’t really anything of value down there, unless you count some of the tools and scrap metal. No one even knows that I use the space, other than maybe the three of you. But what if it wasn’t on purpose?”

Henry set a large, steaming mug down in front of her. “That hit to the head wasn’t an accident.”

“No, no, no. I just mean it could have just been someone who broke in looking for money, and when I came in they panicked. It makes more sense than it being specifically about me.” She lifted the mug to her face and inhaled. “This smells good, Henry. Is this what you were working on last night?”

He looked at her in confusion. “Last night?”

“I woke up at one point and thought I heard you down here. I assumed you were getting the kitchen ready.”

“It wasn’t me.” He looked to Fitz. “Did you hear anything?”

Fitz shook his head. “Not until this morning when you came in.”

Darby shrugged. “It was probably just my head.” A flash of pain lanced between her temples, reminding her of why she sought out the coffee in the first place. She blew on the steaming liquid, then took a sip. “It tastes different. Is it a different kind of chocolate?”

“It’s the same as always.”

“Huh.” She sniffed at the liquid before raising it to her lips again. “It smells kind of nutty. Almost like almonds.”

Before she could take another drink, Robertson suddenly wrenched the mug from her hands, eliciting a startled protest. “Hey! I need that.” The jarring movement had the hammers in her head working overtime.

The grizzled soldier held the drink under his nose. He looked to Henry, his expression grim. “What did you use to make this?”

Henry retrieved a tin of cocoa powder from under the counter. He handed it to Robertson. “I add this to the coffee grounds. Chocolate is hard to come by these days, so Darby is the only one who gets it.”

“Aww. I didn’t know that.” Touched by the affirmation of Henry’s affection, Darby smiled at him just as a wave of dizziness hit her. She dropped her head back to the table. “Can I have it back, Robertson? I need the caffeine.”

He popped the lid off and sniffed the contents. “I’m sure you do. What you don’t need is the cyanide.”

Henry roared, “The what?”

Fitz jumped to his feet, sending the stool clattering to the floor, and stood over her, a protective hand on her back. “What do we need to do?”

Darby pressed her fingers to her temples as she fought the urge to vomit.

If it’s cyanide, then I need to get it out of my system—and quickly.