Chapter 55: Moon Coffee

Nathan ran lap after lap around the basketball gym while a crowd of teammates enjoyed the show.

He had it coming—he'd skipped way too many club activities, so today the coach had marched into the classroom and hauled him out, handing down a fifty-lap punishment.

Nathan had arranged to meet Lucan today and really didn't want to show up for club—but one thought of how he needed that athletic scholarship to Greyhaven Preparatory Academy to attend the same school as Isolde, and he gritted his teeth and bore it.

Nathan's popularity and connections in the club had skyrocketed lately; the team had fully accepted this teammate who could shoot, could drive, ran on bottomless stamina, had a monstrous physique—and was genuinely easygoing. Still, boys will be boys, and watching him eat dirt had the whole lot of them grinning.

The team's second star Tobias was the loudest of all, calling out encouragement—loudly tallying his laps for him—with maximum mockery and nonstop provocation. Even though, ever since Nathan had bulldozed him flat a few times on raw brute strength, the two had upgraded from ordinary teammates to full-on best bros, flat-out inseparable.

Every time Nathan passed Tobias, he'd thrust out a double middle finger with feeling; Tobias gave as good as he got, turning around each time and sticking his butt out. The gym's atmosphere was honestly electric.

Bloodborn though Nathan had become, this warm, rowdy life was still what he loved. He wasn't really angry—just a touch antsy. It was his first time ever standing somebody up, and the somebody was a fairly important business partner at that.

Lucan had arrived even earlier than the appointed time—and brought along a young man with a sinister face and a faint ghost-fire flickering in his eyes. The young man's air was soft and almost girlish, yet he carried himself like he owned the room, and even Lucan was treading carefully, not daring to cross him.

The young man glanced at the green Rolex Submariner on his wrist and said, with a touch of gloating: "Lucan! Why isn't that little punk Nathan here yet? Did you botch it?"

Lucan said with an awkward grin: "No way that happens! I'm always careful with my work. Nathan must have run into some kind of trouble. Let's give it a little longer."

The young man said, sneering: "My time is extremely valuable. I'm not waiting around indefinitely. Another half hour and he's still not here, this cooperation is off."

Lucan threw in a few soothing lines, then hurriedly ducked aside to call Nathan. By then Nathan was mid-training in tank top and shorts, phone naturally not on him. Several calls, no answer, and Lucan silently groaned: "Dear classmate Nathan—why are you dropping the ball at exactly this moment? Lysander is one of the Raging Gale's counted-strong young bloodborn of this generation, with a truly rotten temper to match. In a bit, I honestly don't know how I'm going to run interference for you."

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Nathan, of course, knew nothing of Lucan's plight. He finally ground out all fifty laps, figured the time had already passed, and felt thoroughly annoyed with himself.

Wren, who'd come to the gym to watch him play right after school, was sharp as a tack and extremely tactful. She read that something was off in Nathan's mood, raised a hand, and called: "Nathan! Anything I can help with?"

Nathan hesitated briefly, then walked to the edge of the court and told her: "I've got an appointment—I promised to deliver some things to someone. Could you take them for me?"

Wren nodded, bright and cheerful: "No problem. Hand over the goods and the address."

Nathan passed over the Orbis war-beast and kept his voice low: "Take it to Moon Coffee on Lombard Row—there's a guy named Lucan waiting there. Give him the fifty Goldspear Thistle plants inside. The war-beast itself is NOT for him—remember to bring it back to me."

Wren's face went absolutely astonished; she clapped a small hand over her mouth to keep from shrieking, then hissed in a crushed voice: "You actually have a war-beast? And a high-class item like an Orbis?"

Nathan blinked too. "Aren't war-beasts super common?"

Wren cried: "war-beasts are common—but do you know this? Even the cheapest civilian grade runs several thousand starlings—that's over half a million dollars converted! Military-grade war-beasts start at a hundred thousand—that's over ten million dollars. You actually had money to buy a war-beast—isn't that alone worth being shocked about? Especially... a premium item like the Orbis, no less. Official price is seven hundred thousand starlings, and it's perpetually in stock nowhere—Lombard Row's licensed dealers all charge over list. Without eight hundred fifty thousand starlings, don't even dream of landing one."

Nathan genuinely hadn't thought about war-beast pricing. Looking back on it now, it was exactly as Wren said—an item starting in the hundreds of thousands: an ordinary bloodborn, especially a minor with no steady income, truly could not afford one.

He thought a moment and said: "Next time I'm in the Hourbound Grove, I'll find you a war-beast. No guarantees on quality—but it won't cost you a thing!"

Wren snorted a laugh: "Giving a girl a present this expensive usually comes with special motives, you know!"

Before Nathan could even explain, the bloodborn girl took the Orbis and left the basketball gym, denying him even the chance.

The coach was thoroughly displeased with Nathan "lollygagging" at the edge of the court, but he had enough respect for his prize pupil to wait until Wren was gone before bellowing: "Nathan! Get over here for the scrimmage. The tournament starts in a few days and you're less and less focused—how do you expect results like this?"

Nathan shrugged and walked to center court. The coach quickly sorted the teams, and the scrimmage was on...

Two subway transfers later, Wren got off at Lombard Row. She knew the street intimately, wandering it all the time on her days off. Moon Coffee was the street's most distinctive café, and she'd been plenty of times; it was enormous—roughly the footprint of an indoor gym—and the owner had ordered a batch of moonlight coffee booths that floated through the café, utterly elegant.

Each moonlight booth looked, from the outside, like a globe of bright moonlight; guests could set it so nothing inside showed to the outside—or let it show. Inside were old-style couches, where everyone kicked back with their coffee—ancient-meets-modern chic.

Wren made a call, and Lucan hurried out to receive her. Seeing her, he was pretty startled: "Wren? What are you doing here?"

Wren said, all smiles: "I'm delivering for Nathan. His basketball coach dragged him off to practice."

Both of them were Greyhaven-born-and-raised bloodborn—no great familiarity between them, but they knew each other by sight—and they naturally fell into a couple lines of small talk. Right then a soft, chilly voice cut in, snapping coldly: "You pack of punks dare ignore the Raging Gale like this? You've kept me waiting this long, and Nathan still isn't here!"

A pale-cyan giant hand swooped down, swallowing Lucan and Wren whole...