I trusted that Decoy had told Folk that church was imminent, but I messaged him anyway.
Nash:stay where u are if u need more shut-eye
Folk:I’m up.
Fair enough.
I messaged Saint.
Nash:u want tea?
Saint didn’t reply. A second later, I heard the chapel door and knew from the lack of greeting that it was him. He came to the kitchen doorway, Ivy hanging off him, questions clear in his forest gaze.
“I know nothing, brother.” I handed him a mug of dusty dandelion tea as a consolation prize.
He frowned, unconvinced, then evaporated like he hadn’t been there at all.
The chapel door opened again. I emerged from the kitchen in time to catch Folk slipping in from the cold, his eyes still heavy with sleep.
I gave him the tea meant for Decoy. “All right?”
Folk glanced around the room. “What happened?”
“With what?”
“You don’t know?”
“I know nothing.” If I repeated it enough, maybe someone would believe me.
Folk sipped his tea, his frown less pronounced than Saint’s but there all the same. “You riding tonight?”
I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay home and lose myself in Locke and Orla until the fucking sun rose again. But a darker side of me craved the hunt. Priest had to die or we’d be stuck in this limbo forever. “Meet me at seven?”
Folk nodded and moved off, drawn to Decoy as much as I was drawn to Locke. At least I would be, when I finished playing matron.
I left Locke till last, but Rubi appeared before I could go to him, blocking the door, agitation still rolling off him.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” I passed over his chipped Barbie mug. “Giving a shit?”
“Never that. I just hate knowing he’s probably doing something he doesn’t want to do.”
“River doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to.”
Rubi snorted. “That ain’t true and you know it.”
I didn’t. I loved River like he was my own kid brother, but I wasn’t privy to his deepest emotions, not like my front-row seat to Rubi’s. “You need a hug?”
“I need a lie-in that ain’t fucking lonely.”
“Take the hug, brother. I’m not your happy ending.”
Rubi grumbled under his breath but took the affection I offered. “I was lying earlier. I like this version of you better. Pookie, I hate it when you’re sad.”
We hugged it out before Rubi pulled away and took stock of the remaining mugs in front of me. “That one Locke’s?”
I nodded, letting him swipe it and move away from the kitchen. But he didn’t get far before he turned back. “Fuck me, Locktipus is an absolute snack.”