Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Four creatures—two men and two women—sit across the table. It’s the oddest thing to see them magically projected. I have to blink a few times to get my eyes to focus. “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.” Princess Leia’s voice from Star Wars pipes up in my head, and I smirk.
I’m glad they can’t see my expression. Smirking wouldn’t make the best first impression. I might appear to be a sullen teenager with my hood pulled up and my face hidden within its shadows, but I instinctively know I did the right thing as I notice another obvious thing about my guests.
Their fancy, glowy markings.
While my face is covered with pretty swirls, the creatures opposite me have a swirl here and there. The marks must indicate power, and I am covered head to toe. It’s not something I need to be highlighting to a bunch of unknowns.
Thank goodness I hid my face.
Underneath the hood, I give them a sweeping glance, my eyes trail from left to right. The first man has white hair that’s cropped close to his scalp. He is painfully thin and everything about him is white, from his lips to his skin tone. Even his eyes lack pigment.
Next to him is a woman. Her skin and long hair have a slight green tinge.
She has a single, prominent swirl across her sharp cheekbone.
The second woman is the most human-looking of the four.
She has a round face, brown hair, and hazel eyes that shine with intelligence.
The last man, a male version of the woman sitting next to him, has this sneer on his handsome face—a sneer that he’s aiming at me.
Oh, and they all have the familiar tell-tale pointed ears of the aes sídh.
Elves.
Huh. I frown and shift slightly, and the dodgy chair creaks. I don’t know what I was expecting. Aliens perhaps, not the fae. Something inside me chimes a reminder, and a memory flashes of the elf who attacked me. He also had short hair. Perhaps he wasn’t an elf from Earth?
Great.
“How delightful. A hellhound bodyguard.” The green skinned lady purrs as she runs a finger against the swirl on her collarbone, highlighting her impressive chest. She smiles at Owen like a crocodile.
Whoa, the woman has waaayy too many teeth.
“Maybe after this meeting you can guard me.” She licks her lips.
Eww.
I wrinkle my nose and I can’t help myself, I swivel, being extra careful not to unbalance or break the already wobbly chair, so I can see Owen’s face. The hellhound has taken up a guard position behind me. He stands with his legs wide apart, and his hands rest almost casually at his sides.
Ever the professional, he doesn’t react to her words.
Though his soft grey eyes have hardened like flint.
The dead eyes of a killer. I take in a shuddering breath.
Stop it, Tuesday. That’s unkind. All Owen has done is try to protect you.
That’s his game face. I’m lucky to have his help.
It’s not like I’ll be able to fight off four alien elves when I couldn’t handle one.
Thank the stars they aren’t actually here.
The poor guy promised to protect me, yet we don’t know from what. Thanks to this strange world, and now this impromptu meeting, we’ve both been dropped right in it. I feel sorry for him.
In good conscience, I can’t allow this to continue.
He’s a hellhound, for spell’s sake. He’s the best of the best, the ultimate soldier, and instead of going out and rescuing people, he’s here, playing bodyguard for me.
It’s a joke. I need to tell him he is free of his promise, as it’s not his job to stand with me.
This isn’t his fight. It must be a helluva favour he owes my dad.
I’m not worth his time.
I do my best to give him a small, reassuring smile. His left hand clenches. Yeah, after this meeting, I’ll send the poor guy on his way.
Reluctantly, I turn my attention back to the creatures across the table.
The elves—no they aren’t elves, are they?
They are hosts, and thinking back to first impressions, a sexual proposition doesn’t make a good one.
It seems like I’m in for a fun meeting. The hellhound isn’t the only one who needs a game face.
“Poor little lost host, you must have been so lonely in a world that doesn’t understand you.
Earth, isn’t it? Peeking out of that hood, you appear human.
” Crocodile lady smiles at me and I shudder.
I can’t help but count my teeth with my tongue.
Yeah, crocodile lady has at least double the gnashes in her wide mouth. Freaky.
“You are earthborn?” The man on the right sniffs with distaste.
“Earth is full of scavengers. It’s a backwards world.
For many centuries, it has not been advantageous for us to trade with the snivelling, vile creatures that roam that planet.
The last time I checked, they treated humans like slaves and hosts like witches.
Can you believe that? Witches? We are gods. ”
Next, he’ll be pounding his chest. I blink as he continues to rant, and he waves his hands in the air. Some god, I mentally scoff. I use that title very loosely—his words. Witches on Earth can’t be so bad if at one point in history some host dipped their DNA into the gene pool.
I must have a recessive gene.
Should I tell him? Nah. I keep my gob firmly closed and allow his rude comments to fly over my head.
What does it matter to me? Who cares what these aliens think?
I’m not an ambassador for Earth. I’m also numb to this type of game, thanks to my mum.
No one can play it better than her. I still rub my hand down my leg in a self-soothing motion.
I’ve trained for this. This exact moment.
Dealing with my mum, my coven, and dealing with nightmare customers and colleagues has led up to this.
“Little human host,” crocodile lady continues with a toothy smile, “is there something wrong with your face?” She drops her voice to a creepy whisper. “We don’t mind scars.”
Gah. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. Now they are calling me out. I have no choice. I must drop the hood, as I need to show my face.
“My apologies,” I say in a fake timid whisper as I reach for the hood with a trembling hand.
“I didn’t think, and the room is cold.” As the fabric slips away from my head, my heart jumps.
I duck my head and screw my eyes tight as I ask the magic for its help.
A push of power answers my call, making the skin on my face tingle.
As the heavy fabric slaps against my back and loose hair from my ponytail settles around my face, I feel all but one mark fade, like a mask.
They disappear underneath a layer of magic.
Phew. It’ll do. I lift my chin.
The crocodile lady smiles with satisfaction as her eyes scan my face. They all appraise me and take in the lack of markings.
“Are you sure she’s even a host? Just look at her. A single measly marking. She isn’t powerful. The human blood has ruined her,” says the brown-haired fake god with a dismissive sniff.
Witch. The words witch blood, not human, scream in my head. I lift my chin higher and keep my mouth firmly closed. They are pissing me off.
“Look at this room. She can’t even do a basic change. She’s not one of us. Thank the rivers I can’t smell this place. It’s disgusting. She’s disgusting,” crocodile lady pipes up.
Nice.
It takes everything in me to hold in a sigh and a nostril flare. Losing my temper now would be a huge mistake. This is something I’m used to. At least she’s direct and saying it to my face. Meh, her words won’t trigger the Mum gene. I’ve heard worse.
I smile.
“Look at that.” Crocodile points at my face.
“She doesn’t even know she’s being insulted.
What a waste. She is such a pretty little thing to look at, those big violet eyes…
she’d make beautiful babies. Tendris, you always said you were waiting for a host mate.
” She elbows the white-haired elf, and he grunts with dismissal.
A low growl sounds behind me. Owen’s boots creek against the wooden floor as he shifts his weight.
I wave my hand frantically below the table and the growl cuts off.
I don’t think they heard him as they’ve continued to talk about me as if I’m not in the room.
I’ve seen what I wanted. My eye twitches and I give it a rub.
Sorry, but the hosts are a bunch of pricks.
I haven’t even had a chance to explore the realm yet, as these creatures demanded an immediate meeting. Without asking. What is it about my face that gets everybody up in arms? They go from nought to sixty with insults. Even when I haven’t said anything to warrant it. Not yet anyway.
I loudly clear my throat. “Excuse me,” I say as I tap on the table to get their attention.
“I’m sorry. I thought you could help me, advise me.
Now I see that’s not the case. If you’d excuse me, I have things to do.
” I rise from my chair. As I stand, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and deliberately allow the baggy sleeve to roll down to my elbow, flashing the silver swirls on my arm.
“Oh Jupiter, her arms,” the brown-haired lady squeaks.
“Please, please don’t leave.” Something in her tone makes me pause.
I groan as I see the genuine panic in her brown eyes.
What’s one more minute? I tug the chair back and go to sit, but the poor chair has had enough, and it crumbles into pieces.
I stare at the sad chunk of wood in my hand and puff out my cheeks.
Without thinking, I drop the wood and wash my magic across the room.
The power hits the room in a wave and from one breath to the next, everything changes.
Whoa. Seeing it happen in front of my eyes is a trip. It’s like I’ve gone full on Disney.