19: Deva
Deva
Deva lowered the empty but still-steaming mug and grinned at the woman sat across the table. The woman smiled.
Keelin sat to Deva’s left, her mug also empty. The table was old and battered, the chairs mismatched, and the lighting dim. There were no windows, only the door they’d come through.
The fourth seat around the table was taken by the man who had introduced the woman as Lise, and himself as Chiron.
“Call me Cara,” Deva had said. And when Chiron looked questioningly at Keelin, Deva had said, “Brienne.”
These people might not be Kaiahive, but they still couldn’t be trusted.
“Good drink?” Lise asked.
“Best thing I’ve had in ages,” Deva said. Which was an understatement. The flavours were incredible—dark chocolate with a hint of cinnamon, and other things she coul
