I could return and halt whatever that weird vibe was between them. I didn't like it.
When I entered, the female at the counter smiled and bowed, tripping over her words when she greeted me. The entire interaction was odd, and I didn't like it, either. Some of the others around the interior kept peering over at me, but they would cut their gaze away when I looked at them. It left me wondering if I had something embarrassing stuck to my cloak.
So, as I waited for my order, I drifted a bit closer, pretending to study the pictures they had painted on the interior walls. The whispers explained why they talked about me, but the reason made me even more eager to leave. Apparently, no one had forgotten my little stunt with the King. That, added with the fact that my cloak clearly showed me as a Master, infused some strange tone into their voice, one that seemed like awe, one that made me want to yank my hood up.
It also left my blood boiling. Con couldn't even step inside of the place, but I found out as the female called out to me, they expedited my orders. They bowed and whispered and told wildly embellished stories about me. They would have called the Guards on him.
It made me want to raze it to the ground. Instead, I floated to the counter, nodded to her, and ignored her gushing. The bags filled my arms, the handles cutting into my skin. It felt better than it should, so I said nothing and spun around.
Our system is so damaged, so broken. It will topple eventually because nothing lasting can be built atop an unstable base. One binal, the Soulless will tire of the way they are treated or the King at the time will add one law too many, and they will finally decide that if they are killed for nothing anyway, they might as well die for a reason. Maybe I'll be alive to see it.
When I stepped outside, I found Con sitting a little too close to Grace. My eyes narrowed, and I stalked towards the pair. When I drew close, I heard Grace giggled, and my steps faltered.
Con smiled, and then launched into another story, his face more animated than I'd seen it in a long while. His hands gestured wildly as he talked. Grace threw her head back, hearty laughter spilling from her lips.
No, no. This is not going to happen.
I nearly ran the rest of the way, thrusting the bags between the pair and forcing Con to lean back or get smacked in the face.
“Here you go,” I chirped with false brightness. “I'm not sure I got enough for everyone, but better than just an extra one or two, right? Well, come on. Stand up. We need to get going.”
Grace glared at me, and Con stood, muttering to himself. He transferred the bags onto his arms. His jerky motions caused the handles to pull his sleeves up, and then he would yank them down again, pulling at the bags. Each one was the same, and it made me want to slap him because it only wasted time and energy. Neither one of those things did I consider expendable.
“Con, take the bags and stop pouting, please. We have an appointment with Master Akai, and I do not wish to run late. Not with him, anyway,” I reminded him.
He heaved a sigh, and more calmly, slid the next one onto his arm. “Right. Sorry. I just thought, maybe, that you had a problem with us talking because of what I am.”
“Con, If I had a problem with what you are, I would have walked right past you at that club, and we never would have met, to begin with. No, if I have a problem with you, it's because of you and how you are.” And that was the truth. Him being Soulless didn't lend any weight to my actions, but him being a serial discarder did. Con tended to rid himself of any female that hadn't already left after a few rounds between the sheets.
Finally finished with the transfer, he raised his arms, the bags dangling below, and murmured, “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
As he brushed past me, he said, “I hear you, Zella.” A moment of silence passed, and I thought he was done, but then he turned, grinned, and proclaimed, “Doesn't mean I'll listen. See you around, Grace.”
He spun before I could do anything and sauntered down the sidewalk,