Free Quicksilver by R.J. Anderson Page B

as unsettled by the gaps in Sebastian’s story as I was. “So what now?” Milo asked him. “You’re just going to hide out here and let it happen? Let them go on doing to other people what they did to Niki?”
    “No,” said Sebastian, not looking up from the menu. “And I have no intention of letting them do it to Niki again, either. But she’s perfectly safe at the moment, as are you. If there’s any threat of that changing, I’ll look after it.”
    I had my doubts, but I wasn’t going to argue. Not in front of Milo, anyway. “So,” I said slowly, “Milo’s on board with all this? You trust him?”
    “He’s also sitting right here,” said Milo, “and getting tired of being talked about in the third person.” He flicked a creamer, and it flipped 180 degrees and landed neatly in its original spot. “Anyway, I let Sebastian couch-surf at my place last night and I didn’t even touch your precious relay, so give me a little credit—oh, hi.”
    This last was to the waitress, who was standing by the table with order pad in hand. Hastily I skimmed the menu and handed it back to her. “Pancakes and back bacon,” I said. “Oh, and coffee.” I waited until she marched off again, then turned to Milo.
    “Sorry,” I said. “But after what I went through, it’s hard for me to trust anybody. It’s nothing personal.” Then I pulled out the tiny, tentative smile that meant I know I screwed up, but I’m cute, forgive me? —and it worked. Milo smiled back.
    “Good,” said Sebastian. “Milo, I think you’re in. But could Niki and I have a private word? Just for a minute?”
    “Uh … yeah, sure,” said Milo, looking taken aback. “I was going to the washroom anyway.” He slid around the curve of the bench, and Sebastian got up to let him out.
    When he’d disappeared, I leaned across the table and hissed, “Why is he here? We need to talk. Alone.”
    “I know,” said Sebastian. “But I owed him a favor for letting me sleep on his sofa. And after what he saw last night, I don’t see how we can keep him out of it.”
    There was a faint reproach in his voice, and it annoyed me. “Well, it’s not my fault,” I said. “I only kept the relay because I couldn’t find a way to destroy it, and I was afraid to leave it behind. How was I supposed to know you were going to show up? Especially after what you said to Alison—”
    “I didn’t think I’d get the chance,” he said. “You’d only been gone a few seconds when Mathis came in.”
    Heavily armed, no doubt. After the way Sebastian had double-crossed him to help Alison and me escape, he must have been furious. “Then what happened?” I asked.
    “The negotiations were delicate,” Sebastian said. “They included a brief standoff with weapons, a message he really didn’t want me to send, and a long and tedious argument about ethics. But eventually we worked it out.” He took a sip from his mug and folded his hands around it, inhaling the steam. “This is excellent coffee.”
    I didn’t find Sebastian as easy to read as some people, but hiding behind a coffee cup was a bad sign. There was more to this story that he wasn’t telling me, and I had a suspicion I knew what it was about.
    “Does Alison know you’re back?” I asked.
    The cup froze on his lips. He lowered it to the table, a slow and deliberate motion. “No,” he said and then more cheerfully, “Oh look. Pancakes.”
    I gave the waitress a tight smile as she began setting out the plates, silently willing her to hurry up and go away. But she’d only been gone two seconds when Milo returned from the washroom, so I had to admit defeat.
    I wasn’t out of ammunition yet, though. I waited until Milo was happily distracted pouring syrup over his French toast, and then I caught Sebastian’s eye and mouthed, “Coward.”
    He kept his expression bland, as though he hadn’t noticed. But I saw his jaw tighten, and I knew the shot had gone home.

0 0 1 1 1 1
     
    By the time