"No. Who?"
"That's Bad Company."
"No shite? B Team from New York?"
Litha looked down at the group just as Storm looked up at the mezzanine. Their eyes met for an instant, but, unlike hers, his eyes kept moving and didn't stop until he had thoroughly surveyed the environment. She wished she could look away as easily, but she was frozen in place, staring.
She thought that she could have seen this man in a mall, at a fair, in a bank lobby, it wouldn't matter. She would know him anywhere. He was the furthest thing from metrosexual, the furthest thing from soft or malleable. What she was admiring was a man born to be a knight. She had no idea or warning that there was a place in her heart that harbored a secret desire. But, just like that, in the blink of an eye, Litha suspected that the feeling that washed over her, leaving an indelible impression, was love.
She thought of herself as a person who had a reasonably healthy interest in men and sex, but, for some reason, had just never thought of herself as being in love; had never expected it or envisioned it, or hoped for it, or planned for it. Love was something that happened to regular people.
The Order's personnel files were full of extraordinary biographies and resumes; people who were gifted or accomplished. Litha was one of a kind: a transplant from Northern California who was both witch and tracker. She knew she was scheduled to be temporarily diverted from more important work to help B Team with a werewolf fiasco that anyone with rudimentary dousing ability could handle. She had been thinking of it as a nuisance assignment, right up until she saw Engel Storm walk into the foyer of her building.
When Litha was finally able to make herself put one foot in front of the other and move forward, she was talking to herself under her breath. "Of all the secret societies, in all the towns, in all the world, he had to walk into mine."
One of the two coworkers who had been standing close by said, "What was that?"
She stopped long enough to scrunch up her face then looked at them. "Love! Shit!" Resuming her errand she walked away a different person from the one who had started across the mezzanine bridge a few minutes earlier.
The two coworkers thought nothing of the outburst. The Order was a veritable hot spot of interesting personalities. Some might say quirky. There were those with unique talents and those with miraculous skills. It was simply a fact of life that special gifts were often paired with unusual disposition and/or social adjustment that was a little off center. Of course, there were exceptions, but there were days when even the exceptions gave themselves permission to act out.
That was why ramrods like Sol and Simon were so vital to the organization. Somebody had to keep the menagerie herded into a working group.
Litha closed the door to her office and leaned against it, doing a personal checklist. The Great Palpitating Revelation came with a distinct lack of the accompanying symptoms it was supposed to trigger. There were no bells ringing. There was no sense of walking on air. She did not feel high. Loss of appetite? No.
What she really felt was a damn foreboding sense of looming inconvenience. This was definitely not part of the plan. Her plan.
She pushed away from the door restating the initial accurate assessment of her true feelings, once more for good measure. "Shit! Love!"
The fact is that nobody believes in love at first sight. Until it happens to them.
Since Ram and Elora were the rare married couple working for The Order, and the only one with a pet, they were given a spacious corner apartment on the top floor with bedroom, living room, and bath. Glen had been assigned a small room next door for quarters, but had been sleeping on their sofa so that Blackie could feel more settled.
Elora heard the dog barking when the elevator door opened. He already knew they were there. Glen opened the apartment door and let him run down the floral carpeted hall to greet Ram and Elora. She got down on the floor with him and gave him a good long, hello tummy rub while quietly assuring him that she missed him and was very glad to be reunited with him.
The temporary apartment home was decorated in muted, restful colors of sage and brown. Someone had provided water bottles, fresh fruit, and fresh flowers with a card that read "Honeymoon Headquarters". Making an educated guess, Elora thanked Glen for his thoughtfulness. Since he didn't deny it, she assumed she had guessed right. She had read his file and knew that he had spent a semester assisting in the Operations Office at Jefferson Unit. And Elora knew firsthand that a kid didn't train under Farnsworth without learning a thing or two.
Their work schedule was free until the next morning. Their social schedule was free until dinner. So they decided to unpack quickly and try out the new bed. After all, what could top a cool and drizzly afternoon with nothing to do but make love and nap in each others' arms?
Kay went out for dinner with Katrina and the Norns. Aelsong had already met some people close to her age in the Psychic Division and was off doing something with them. Ram, Elora, Baka, and Storm were invited to dine at the Director's table.
Simon Tvelgar, Head of Agent Affairs, was to be their direct supervisor for the duration of their assignment in Edinburgh. Ram's first order of business was to interrogate Director Tvelgar about Aelsong's recruitment.
Director Tvelgar, was about the same age as Sol, but, unlike Sol, he wore a permanently pleasant expression. Like all the administrators who had begun their careers as knights, Simon retained the hardened physique of a warrior and the presence of an underlying tension that implied that the civilized manner was pure veneer. In close proximity to such a personality, the subconscious mind of the innocent registered a feeling of comfort and security that they would be protected if necessary. On the other hand, that same presence created an urge in blaggards to flee.
Tvelgar seemed somewhat amused by Ram's questioning and was more than patient with the concerns of an older brother, especially since those concerns centered around the fact that there were Elves now living in the fae capital.
The Director said that he had planned a private lunch for the next day in which he would introduce personnel who would assist them until Baka had established what his permanent personnel requirements would be. They had cleared away space on the second floor designating a "War Room" with three adjacent offices.
It was nine o'clock by the time they finished a nice dinner of charred salmon with mustard, boiled potatoes in butter, and unleavened bread. Even in April the sun set late that far north. Ram's mouth twitched as he reached for Elora's hand under the tablecloth. He knew that, after the dinner plates were removed, she was looking around wondering when chocolate would be available and in what form.
He leaned over and whispered: "Do no' worry. We shall adjourn shortly and go on cocoa quest."
She squeezed his hand and, thinking no one was looking, brushed her lips across his cheek suggestively. Storm saw the exchange out of the corner of his eye and felt his heart seize ever so slightly. He wondered if it would always be that way.
***
CHAPTER 6