Gabriel chose to go back inside.
The decision felt wrong the moment his hand touched the café door, but unease had already rooted itself too deeply in his chest to be ignored. He had waited long enough in the car. Too long. Ellios should have been back by now—should have at least sent a message, a glance, something.
The bell above the door chimed softly as Gabriel stepped in.
Warm air greeted him. The smell of roasted coffee beans, pastries, citrus cleaner. Normal. Calm. Wrong.
His eyes scanned the room instantly, sharp and trained.
No Ellios.
No Hastur.
No sign that two men had been sitting here moments ago, having a conversation important enough to make Ellios forget the world.
Gabriel stood still for a second too long.
His pulse kicked hard.
"Where is he…" he muttered under his breath.
He walked forward, boots quiet against the polished floor, gaze flicking from table to table. The staff moved naturally, unaware.
Customers laughed, typed on laptops, stirred drinks. No one looked shaken. No one looked like they had witnessed anything unusual.
That alone unsettled him more than chaos would have.
He approached the counter, jaw tight.
"Excuse me," he said, voice clipped. "There were two men sitting near the window. One of them—dark hair, sharp eyes. Where did they go?"
The assistant blinked, confused. "I'm sorry, sir… I don't recall anyone like that."
Gabriel frowned. "They were here less than half an hour ago."
The assistant hesitated, then shook her head. "I really don't think so."
His irritation flared.
He turned to another employee. Same answer.
The manager came over, polite and apologetic, insisting they hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, that no disturbance had been reported, that perhaps the men had already left before anyone took note.
Gabriel's patience snapped.
"How do you not notice people leaving?" he demanded. "This place isn't that busy."
The manager stiffened. "Sir, I assure you—"
Gabriel exhaled sharply, cutting him off. Arguing would get him nowhere. He stepped back, fists clenched, every instinct screaming that something had gone wrong.
Ellios wouldn't just disappear.
Unless—
A voice spoke behind him, smooth and amused.
"Did you really think they'd leave a trail for you?"
Gabriel froze.
Every muscle in his body went rigid before he turned around.
Dan stood there, hands in his pockets, wearing that same infuriating smirk. Like this was all a game he was enjoying immensely.
"You," Gabriel said sharply. "What are you doing here?"
Dan tilted his head. "Having coffee. Thinking. Watching you spiral in and out."
Gabriel stepped closer, crowd noise fading into background static. "Who are you?"
"Dan," he replied lightly. "We've met."
"That's not what I meant." Gabriel's voice dropped. "Where is Ellios?"
Dan raised an eyebrow. "Straight to the point. I like that."
Gabriel didn't like the way Dan's eyes gleamed—too knowing, too entertained. "Answer me."
Dan leaned back against a table, utterly relaxed. "Calm down. You look like you're about to punch someone."
"I might," Gabriel snapped.
Dan's smile widened. "Ah. There it is."
Gabriel's fist twitched at his side. "If you had anything to do with this—"
"With what?" Dan interrupted innocently. "Your boss vanishing?"
That did it.
Gabriel grabbed Dan by the collar and shoved him back a step, teeth clenched. "Stop playing games."
The café quieted. A few heads turned. Dan didn't resist. He didn't even look annoyed.
Instead, he looked delighted.
"My, my," Dan murmured. "Such passion."
Gabriel released him abruptly, stepping back before he caused a scene. "Talk."
Dan straightened his jacket slowly. "You're worried."
"That's obvious."
Dan's eyes narrowed slightly, gaze sharpening. "No. You're personally worried."
Gabriel bristled. "Don't analyze me."
Dan chuckled. "Too late."
He leaned in just enough for his words to cut deep. "Since when did you develop feelings for your boss?"
The question hit harder than any punch.
Gabriel stared at him.
"What did you say?"
Dan watched his reaction carefully—how his breath hitched, how his pupils shifted, how denial rushed in a second too late.
"That's ridiculous," Gabriel snapped. "Ellios is my employer."
"Is that all?" Dan asked softly.
"Yes."
Dan shook his head slowly. "You're a terrible liar."
Gabriel's jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me."
"Oh, but I do," Dan replied, tapping his temple. "I can feel it. Concern. Fear. Possessiveness."
Gabriel took a step back, unnerved despite himself. "Stop."
Dan smiled. "You don't like what you're hearing because it's true."
"I said stop."
Dan raised his hands slightly. "Relax. I'm not judging."
Gabriel laughed bitterly. "You think you know me after one encounter?"
"I don't need long," Dan said. "Feelings are loud to me , you see. Especially when someone doesn't want to admit them."
Gabriel exhaled hard, frustration bleeding into exhaustion. "Enough. If you know something, tell me where Ellios is."
Dan's expression softened—just a little. "If I knew, I would."
"That's a lie," Gabriel said immediately.
Dan shrugged. "Believe what you want."
Gabriel stared at him, searching for cracks, for deceit he could exploit. But whatever Dan was, he wasn't afraid.
And that scared him more than anger would have.
"I'll find him myself," Gabriel said finally, turning away. "If you've hurt him—"
Dan's voice followed him. "You'll do what?"
Gabriel didn't answer. He walked out fast, phone already in his hand, mind racing through possibilities—security cameras, calls, locations, worst-case scenarios he didn't want to name.
Behind him, Dan watched, eyes gleaming.
"Run along," he murmured.
"The fish has taken the bait. Caught by my hook." He turned back toward the café window, gazing at the empty table where Ellios had sat.
"Such a fragile thing," Dan said quietly. "And such a dangerous one."
His thoughts drifted backward—to his conversation with Hastur.
The way Hastur had resisted at first. The restraint. The denial. The insistence that this wasn't about obsession.
You're attached, Dan had teased him then.
I am cautious, Hastur had replied.
Dan smiled at the memory.
He pushed away from the table and headed for the exit, humming softly.
"And as a fisherman," he continued to himself, "it's my responsibility to pull the fish in once it bites."
Outside, the city buzzed, unaware of the threads tightening beneath its surface.
Dan stepped into the sunlight, laughter slipping from his lips as he remembered Hastur's unreadable expression.
"I got you," he muttered.
And somewhere, far from the café's quiet confusion, the consequences of that confidence were already beginning to unfold.