Page 26

Sakamoto scoffed. “Resources? Hah. Support? No quantity of concubines no matter how coordinated is going to help you with your quandary. But you have an excellent point. Don’t let this get to your heads, but the two of you are too valuable to expend for this mission. This isn’t going to be a simple case of throwing more bodies at the problem.”

That was probably the nicest thing Director Sakamoto had ever said to us. I opened my mouth to answer, but she was already undoing her cravat and shrugging off her blazer. She pressed a button under her desk, a panel sliding open in the ceiling to reveal a projector.

Uh-oh. Didn’t she usually do this kind of thing in the board room? She opened a drawer, pulling out a canister of salt and a bejeweled dagger.

“I shall consult with the Investors to see if we can requisition additional resources. They will not be pleased either way. A god-helmed corpo in Nomicon Valley, and then all the additional expenditure to stymie his operations? This is going to be a bloodbath. All those charms, all those arcane distortions.”

What could the nebulous Investors even do for us? Were they going to send down a god-slaying box cutter from on high? Or were they going to issue a sternly-worded threat on their special Investor letterhead?

It would be great if a few of them could show up to kick Loki’s ass. They might just be that powerful, the way Sakamoto talked about them. Still, she always made it sound as if even a single Investor’s descent would herald apocalyptic consequences.

And where would they even descend from?

The projector’s lasers drew a pattern on the floor, an intricate ceremonial circle. Morrow and I didn’t need any warning this time. We sprinted straight to the elevator.

Morrow and I didn’t speak as we rode down to the lobby. Even as we strode out the front doors — no Doris tonight, a stern man with a buzz cut at reception instead — we barely looked at each other. But I knew we were both on the same page. We were dead meat.

He finally broke the silence, scraping the sole of his shoe against the sidewalk.

“I’m not sure where we should go at this point.”

I chuckled, the air exiting my lungs in a humorless rush.

“Do you mean physically or — terrible joke, sorry. I’m honestly confused, too.”

“We should take the night off to rest,” he said, adjusting his collar, undoing his tie. I tried not to watch the lump in his throat bob as he swallowed.

Was he about to say something else?

“Yeah,” I said. “I should probably — I think I’m going to take a walk to clear my head.”

“Oh. I can come with you.”

I hissed as I bit the corner of my lip, which must have been a clear enough sign of my hesitation. With Herculean effort I carefully avoided the disappointed look in his eyes, the pinch in the corners of his mouth as he not quite, but almost pursed his lips.

“Sorry, it’s just — it’s not you, man. I just need to be alone for a while.”

His shoulders slumped as he glanced at the top of his shoes, his fan of golden lashes only just hiding his expression.

“Yeah. Sure. I suppose I’ll head home, take a shower. Look over my scrolls and see if there’s anything I can come up with to help us, dig into some spell books.”

“Stop at the shower. You should get some sleep. We need to be fully rested if we’re going to tackle this problem. First thing in the morning. I promise.”

Morrow smirked. “Which by your standards means noon.”

“Just for you? I’ll wake up at eleven.”

I reached out to bump my knuckles against his. We still weren’t quite close enough for a bro hug, but it also didn’t feel correct to just wave him off without at least some cursory physical contact, especially after I’d so cruelly shooed him away.

Maybe Morrow didn’t know how fist bumps worked, which was perfectly believable. Maybe he was more worried about me — or maybe our god problem — than I thought. His hand closed around mine, strong and warm, melting the night chill from my skin, my flesh, my bones.

“Hey,” Morrow said, head lowered, his voice gravelly, like he was struggling to get the words out. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

A thrill rushed through me, the gooey drip of molten chocolate warming every inch of my body. I knew this sensation well, even though I hadn’t felt it in a long time. Old crushes, a few years of trying and failing to date in the city, a couple of guys I met on the apps — the warmth always faded away.

But Morrow was different. The flutter in my stomach, the flicker of flame that burned inside me every time he was near — he was different.

“Yeah,” I said, mouth dry. “I will.”