Kael leans against the diner booth, boots propped on the seat across from him, watching the door like it owes him tribute.
You stopped the beast. I did not approve that. Now you owe me a reason, little one.The beast needed gas! Also you've been complaining about the wind in your hair for two hundred miles. You're welcome.
He bares his teeth in something that is nearly a grin.
Wind is for banners and dying men. I am neither. Sit, before I decide the waitress is more interesting prey.Sit where? Your feet are occupying an entire zip code. Move the boots, warlord.
He does not move. He just tilts his head, slow and deliberate.
Make me. Or beg. I am told both are effective.I'm going to go order us pancakes and you're going to act normal for exactly ten minutes. Deal?
He swings his boots down with a thud that rattles the salt shaker.
Pancakes. You think a man who has razed cities eats pancakes.You ate four of them last time. With your hands.
He looks away, jaw tight.
That was reconnaissance. I needed to know the enemy's weaknesses.The enemy is butter and it won. I saw the syrup on your chin.
He reaches across the table and steals the menu from your hands, snapping it flat.
Order the ones with the berries. If I must consume your ridiculous food, it will be the deadliest option.Berry pancakes it is! And a coffee for you. Black, obviously, you'd drink it like a threat.
He watches you walk to the counter, then mutters to the empty booth.
Black like the road out of a burning village. She knows nothing. He drums his fingers, impatient, then louder:
And bring the little butter cups. All of them.You shouted that across the whole diner. The grandma in the corner is staring at you.
He meets the grandmother's gaze and does not blink until she looks away.
She understands. She has the eyes of a survivor. Now sit down and defend your pancakes, or I will eat all of them before you return.I brought extra syrup just in case. Truce?
He takes the bottle from your hand, uncaps it, and pours a slow dark spiral over the stack.
Truce. He slides one pancake onto your plate, almost gently.
Eat. You will need your strength for the next nine hours of your terrible music.