Chapter 8

By the time Angel and I were in Bristol after Paris, I was already resigned to the possibility that my mate just didn't want to be found.

The one game I didn't want to play, would have to be the only game I could play this time.

The waiting game.

"Kill me," I groaned.

We'd already finished the site inspection for Bristol, meaning: it was already my final day in Europe. By tomorrow, I'd already be returning to our headquarters in Manila, and I had absolutely nothing to show for my mission to find a mate. I doubted I'd find anyone in the few hours remaining of my stay here.

The rain was not helping my mood any.

Angel was unfazed at my whining, used as she was to my moments of dramaticism. Hell, she even played along, saying, "How would you like it to be done?"

I gave a huff in reply. "Take me down in one shot. I've had enough of this."

"We'll do it after I've gotten what I want."

I stared askance at Angel because of her riddle-like words, up until I realized just what it was she was referring to. Right, there was that. We'd bet on whether or not I could find a mate before the end of my trip, didn't we?

She was already the winner at this point, loathe as I am to admit it.

"Maybe you could've done better if you had just played it calmly," Angel added eventually. Her face, though neutral, bore hints of amusement in her twitching lips as she drank her juice.

Why was I even bothering to drink outside with her? Did I still believe I could find my mate in a pub like the Serpent and Sword?

"Calmly," I parroted, scowling down at my mug. "You mean, I have to wait for men to come to me, like a useless fool."

"Being passive is as much a skill as any."

"I don't do passive." I chugged my ale until it was down to half. The exhale that left me once I was done was a heavy one, making my chest heave with that one breath. "I don't do waiting. It's just—so counterproductive. I want a mate, so why should I wait for the right man to come to me when I could just find him myself?"

"And how's that search going for you?"

I rested an elbow on the table, put my hand to my forehead, and sighed.

"Shut up."

She chuckled. "Maybe it's not working out exactly because you're pushing too hard. The Alpha that you want, if he's as good as you want him to be, might need the right timing. Have you considered that?"

Logically, her words made sense. The kind of man that I want, the submissive, puppy-like image I had in my head, might actually dislike being pursued so aggressively. Maybe I was doing things all wrong, because for all that my straightforwardness worked in catching some fish, they weren't exactly the kind of fish I wanted.

"I..."

"Pardon me..."

I looked up at the sudden interruption, only to find a handsome man standing by our table, a mild smile on his lips as he held a drink in hand. Dark brown hair, sleepy blue eyes, and a sharp jaw—he was decent enough, appearance-wise, that I allowed for a polite smile on my face.

He asked, "Would you happen to have a free seat at your table?"

Oh?

"Please, feel free," I said, gesturing lightly to the seat next to me. Angel's expression had returned to its previous blankness at this man's appearance, though she didn't say anything to reject his presence.

I asked him, "What's a handsome man like yourself doing alone? Presuming you are, since you asked to take a seat with us."

He blinked at me, seeming surprised enough by my question that he paused in the middle of taking a seat. "Well," he said, continuing his way down onto his chair as he looked from Angel to me, "in truth, I was looking to wind down. I'm a doctor, you see." He smiled wryly. "You know how it is."

An amused smile played upon my lips as a vague thought entered my head. "Is that why they call this pub the Serpent and Sword? They attract doctors like you?"

A polite smile settled on his face, doing absolutely nothing to hide the confusion in his blue eyes. "Sorry?"

We shared a bemused look with each other for a moment, until I had a belated realization.

I had misremembered it. The symbol for medicine wasn't a serpent and a sword—it was a serpent and a staff. "Ah, but it's a staff, isn't it," I mused out loud, resting my chin on the back of my hand as I looked at him. I smiled dryly. "My mistake. I was thinking of the Rod of Asclepius."

"...ah." Then, once he'd digested my words further, he gave in to a soft laugh covered by his hand. I couldn't quite tell his age, given how appearances have never been a good reference from personal experience (i.e., my mother), but something told me he wasn't that much older. Maybe two or three years apart, give or take. "Aha, I see what you mean now."

I smiled at him. "Thank you for laughing even if I wasn't very funny."

"Oh, I'm sure you're more humorous than me, at least," he said. There was an amused smile on his lips when he uncovered his mouth, easily upping the strength of his attractiveness. "I've been told I'm a tad too serious, myself."

"Are you? You've got a charming smile right now, though."

Again, he paused, seeming caught off guard at my honesty. Even his wide eyes couldn't hide his surprise from me. Damn it, was that too forward again?

Yet he smiled after a beat, and I relaxed. It wasn't the same as before, his smile now a bit more subdued and shy compared to his entertained expression from earlier, but it was a smile nonetheless. He said, sounding rueful, "I doubt that, really. Your smile is plenty more charming than mine."

"Can't we agree that we're both charming?"

A chuckle escaped him right as tried to raise his mug to his mouth; he ended up lowering it before he could even take a sip. "I'm sorry, but I'm not too sure I can agree with that."

"Surprisingly stubborn, aren't you?"

"I have been told that, yes." I didn't reply immediately, only watching as he took a drink from his mug. Once he was done drinking, he said, "And you? Did I interrupt a date, perhaps?"

"No interruption at all, since my friend and I are just here to drink," I said, grinning as I looked over at Angel, who rolled her eyes before returning her attention to her phone. "I'm happy to meet new people too, so your presence is more than welcome."

"That's a relief to know." He was smiling as he drank from his mug of lager, his long lashes fluttering as he shut his eyes for a moment. As he blinked those clear blue eyes back open, he said, "The two of you are winding down as well?"

I hummed my agreement, ignoring the little snort of laughter that escaped Angel's mouth. Of course she'd find this entertaining. "In a way, I suppose." I could, at least, be at ease with the knowledge that my face wasn't as familiar to people outside of the country, and to people who weren't family. "I don't do much myself, not like you would as a doctor, but I oversee a couple of businesses. Retail, manufacturing, a few others. My friend here assists me on it."

An interested light gleamed in those blue eyes of his. I was beginning to wonder what it was—pure curiosity, an interest in what kind of power I held, or intrigue at my social status?—until he said,

"It sounds like you have a lot on your plate. That's brilliant." He chuckled, a self-deprecating note to his deep, honey-toned voice. There was no scent to tell me how deeply he felt what he was feeling, but that was no surprise; people in the United Kingdom had a culture of wearing or taking suppressants regardless of the secondary gender. He added, "Now I feel like a tosser for whinging about my work as a doctor."

I was the one who blinked twice in surprise, this time.

That was new.

Not the self-deprecation in itself, because that was easy to find in men who were fishing for praise, or who were brought up to have little self-esteem.

It was his immediate response to knowing that I was in a position of power. That he'd praised me for it sincerely instead of doubting me, or complimenting me with a hint of disbelief, or laughing as if it was all just a mere joke.

There was some potential, I supposed. Just a sliver of it at least.

"Difficulties are difficulties regardless of the level," I said eventually, smiling a little more sincerely. "I don't think you should berate yourself for experiencing hardship a little less than someone else." They were pretty words coming from someone who ruins lives for a living, sure, but that didn't make them any less true.

This man didn't have enough awareness of my background to be able to judge, anyway. And going by his pensive expression, the slight wistfulness in his gaze, I had a feeling that he might have needed to hear those words more than I'd intended.

"You might think it's foolish to ask this late, but," he said, looking a little shy, "may I know how you'd prefer to be called?"

"Brant," I said, holding out a hand for him to shake. It wasn't so rare a last name that he'd immediately point it out to the Underworld's heir, anyway. "Yourself?"

"Deering," he said, shaking my hand lightly before promptly letting go. "And, your friend..?"

"Please, feel free to ignore me," Angel said, waving a free hand as she tapped something one-handed on her phone. "I'm nothing more than a fly on the wall."

"...well, your friend is certainly interesting."

I laughed. "Isn't she?"

"And your name, is that the same as the duck?"

"You mean goose?"

He curled in on himself a little, shyly fiddling with his fingers in embarrassment. "Ah, that's right…"

When I rested a hand on his arm, just lightly enough to be felt but not hard enough to be too pushy, he didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned into me, smile soft on his handsome face. "It's okay," I told him, smiling back. "I mistook the symbol of medicine for something else earlier, didn't I?"

"I suppose that's true."

"Then, how about your name?"

"Ah, well, funny story…"

It took the second ringing of a bell, signifying the closing of the pub, for us to realize that we'd been talking late into the night. Deering looked regretful when he realized that it would be time for us to part ways, and I wasn't much different. Though we didn't see eye to eye on everything—he was rather religious, for one, and I was not—it wasn't so bad that I'd dismiss him entirely.

Still, he didn't know who I was, which was a glaring problem. If he knew exactly who I was, if he knew what I could do without even batting an eye, would he even consider me as a friend, much less a potential wife? He was a doctor, for fuck's sake. His job was to save lives, as opposed to mine.

It was far, far too difficult.

And yet.

With cute, puppy-like blue eyes, he asked, "You'll be heading off, then?"

"Yes," I sighed, standing up just as Angel did. "I'll have to travel back tomorrow, so I can't stay out for too long." I chewed on it for a moment, considered it long and hard, before saying, "Could I get your number? Only if you're comfortable with it."

His eyes blinked wide open for a moment, and then—

He smiled. It was warm, gentle, and far too sweet coming from a person whom I'd only met for the first time today. Such an expression was a huge contrast from his polite smile upon our first meeting, it was a wonder that this smile was coming from the same man. "Please," he said, taking out his phone. I took the number from his phone screen and swiftly sent him a short message in return. With a pleased smile, he said, "I enjoyed myself, it'd be a pity if we couldn't meet again."

"I like that honesty." I grinned at the light flush of pink on his cheeks. Really, really adorable. "Then, see you around?"

He nodded. The wistful look was no more, perhaps because I'd already given him my number. "See you around, Brant."

With that, I left.

I didn't feel lonely, really. It felt like a pity to part ways so early, but there wasn't much to go off of for me to say that I wanted him. He had potential, to be certain, but…

He was soft, for lack of a better word. Kind, but not too nice, and yet, still too soft for me.

It didn't take long for Angel to start asking questions the moment we both got into the car.

"Have you decided on him?" Her gaze through the rearview mirror was sharp, piercing. "Should I reschedule our flight?"

"Not yet," I said, shaking my head. "He was fine, but I wouldn't say he's enough of a reason for me to stay. I still have a job to do at home."

"This, coming from someone so desperate to have a child?"

I didn't mind the teasing in her words. "I can be patient, like you said. Anyway, if I choose him now, wouldn't that mean I win the bet?"

"..."

I laughed to myself. Hah, this woman really had such odd priorities. "I'm putting that decision on hold for now, so relax. I want a child, but not so badly that I'd settle for less than what I truly want."

"If you're certain."

"I am."

It was quiet, the rest of the way home. Nothing but the sound of music through the car's speakers, and my light humming as I looked out the car window. Thoughts ran through my mind, making me waver for a few seconds—if I were being too picky at this point, if I should just settle for something decent instead of perfect, if I were asking for too much. But then, what was wrong with asking for a lot? I gave everything my all, so why couldn't I receive the same in return?

My thoughts had dwindled into a simmering, static-y noise in the back of my head when we finally reached our hotel. For a drive that had gone in circles given Angel's effort to ward off any rats, the journey still felt like a short one.

Once there, I said,

"I'll get off here. You can park at the back, Angel."

Angel gave me a wary look. "Why?"

"Fresh air," I said, smiling winsomely.

No dice, it seemed, as she still gave me a dead-eyed stare. "Don't take too long."

Well, now I was tempted to do exactly that. Lying right through my teeth, I said, "Yes, mother."

She didn't bite the bait, leaving me smiling in amusement as she drove off. Funny, how she'd sometimes choose when and where to react to my provocations.

How did she feel about all of this, really? For all her teasing, all her prodding, what did it mean to her that I wanted to be a mother, and a wife? Did she think I was a fool for it? She'd doubted me for long enough that her first attempts at help were half-assed, with resulting candidates gathered more from bribery and blackmail than any genuine desire to be wed to me.

Was it sinking in for her now, that I wanted a husband?

I brought out the pastel pouch from my pocket, the one thing I'd kept on me at all times besides my own wallet and phone. A gift to me by Maria, the chocolates already confirmed to be laced with sedatives by Cyril.

The texts, when I'd received them, went as follows:

CYRIL:

They were laced with sedatives. Probably meant to put you to sleep while the pilot whisked you away to god knows where.

ME:

Aha. Here I thought it was poison.

CYRIL:

This isn't funny.

ME:

I think it is. It's not like anything happened, anyway.

CYRIL:

One of these days, Marcella, you're going to tempt me into locking you up at home.

ME:

You're welcome to try and fail, my dear.

He hadn't said anything else after that, perhaps tired of arguing with me. I knew and understood his concern, and I found it adorable that he was trying so hard, but it wasn't like I'd be the type to be caught that easily.

That was what I thought.

When I stopped walking after having been caught up in my thoughts, it was to the realization that I was: a good distance away from the hotel, right in front of a dark alleyway, and a witness to what was either an assault, or kidnapping. It was too dark to make any details out, but it was light enough that I could see the shape of a man slumped against the wall, with three other bodies looming over him.

Had it been any other time, I would have reacted quickly enough. I wouldn't have even reached this point, or, I would have already taught these people a lesson on what it means to be the leader of the Underworld.

But my Alpha was roaring at me. Screaming, even. Urging me to stay right here, to watch and wait, as my mate would come to me.

I could only smile as a gun was quickly pointed in my direction without being shot, letting me know that this was more a kidnapping than mere assault or attempted murder.

I tried not to laugh.

I'd brought the pouch thinking a rat might be brave enough to get eaten by me, but it seemed I'd be caught up in something more ridiculous. The kind of ridiculousness that would have me raising both of my hands in mock surrender, only to watch as one of the goons rushed over to knock me down onto my knees so they could bind my arms together.

Angel would kill me later, but at least I could have a little bit of fun before that happened.

My Alpha, at least, was certainly pleased by this odd turn of events.