Chapter 15 #2
The conference room now mirrors the office next door with white walls and floor-to-ceiling windows that also overlook the lake. A fancy glass wall now separates the two rooms, letting in lots of light.
That’s much better. I nod my head and the protective mask of magic peels away from my face as I casually pull out the now solid, elegant chair to take a seat.
The hosts’ mouths are open.
“My name is Tuesday Larson. The hellhound gentleman behind me is Owen, and Larry here is the previous host’s magical construct. Gosh, look at that”—I narrow my eyes—“I have manners. Not bad, I guess, for a vapid Earth savage.”
For a few moments, the only response I get is silence.
Wow, awkward.
So much for keeping your gob shut.
Yay, nice one, Tuesday.
“She is feral.” Crocodile lady recovers first. She snaps her teeth and takes a deep breath, to prepare for what will be an epic rant. “She doesn’t understand the rules. You can’t just—”
“No. She’s magnificent. I take everything I said about Earth and the humans back.
She doesn’t know the rules, so she isn’t confined to them.
Her magic is wild.” The brown-haired guy leans forward and points his finger at crocodile’s face.
“Don’t you dare ruin that.” He’s a brave man.
I wouldn’t point a precious digit anywhere near those teeth.
Crocodile lady proves me right when she tries to take a chomp out of it.
Yikes.
Their images combine for a split second, and he smirks.
Oh yeah, they’re not really here. He leans back with a smug smile on his face.
Thinking about what he said, I’m happy for once that the host magic is a complete unknown to me.
It’s refreshing I don’t have to conform to someone else’s version of perfection.
I can listen to what my magic is telling me and do it on the fly.
I have to bite my lip to stop myself from grinning like a loon. I like the idea of being wild.
The lady with the brown hair clears her throat.
Her cheeks are flush with embarrassment.
“I think we need to apologise to Miss Larson. I’m sorry that we didn’t introduce ourselves.
It’s a little overwhelming finding a new host. My name is Nyssa.
This is my brother, Nestern. The lovely lady next to me is Zaina, and last but not least, the gentleman at the end is Tendris. ”
I huff. It’s a little bit too late for polite introductions.
“You deliberately mislead us,” Tendris says with a white-eyed scowl.
“Yes,” I reply with a sharp nod. His eyes widen, and I shrug. What? I’m not going to lie. Well, not entirely anyway. I neglect to tell them I hid my markings ’cause I was shitting myself.
“It was a test,” he says as he rubs his face.
“Yes.”
“A test we failed,” Nyssa says in a mournful tone. I shrug again. I need to wrap this meeting up.
The way Zaina, aka crocodile alien host, is now glaring at me is making me feel uncomfortable.
If looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried with a pretty headstone.
She pointedly brushes a chunky gold ring on her right ring finger with creepy reverence and then glances at my empty ringless finger and smirks.
I notice each of my visitors has one. Nope, I’m not in the ring club.
The rings must be powerful artefacts. I guess I will add that to the list of things I have yet to find out.
Zaina is now smiling at me. Some psycho part of me wishes she was corporal.
I stroke the toy gun in my pocket. I’d love to shoot a foam sleeping bullet into the middle of her green forehead.
I duck my head and grin at the thought. Shame it would pass straight through her.
Look at me, a plastic gun in my pocket and I’ve turned into a right rebel.
Okay, back to getting answers. “So, you are the council for hosts?” What did Atticus call them? “The collective of dimensions?” My eyebrows rise with my question, and I plaster what I hope is an encouraging expression on my face.
“Council—” Nyssa lets out a strangled laugh and turns to her brother for help, finding something interesting on his hand. Did I say something wrong?
Nyssa abandons her chair. On the way to the window, she walks through the table.
The magical projection of her flickers so much it makes me want to vomit.
She takes in the view and her hand hovers against the glass.
“Beautiful view,” she murmurs. “I can see for miles.” The other hosts quieten their bickering as they also take in the view.
Zaina grinds her teeth and snarls. “You’re powerful then. So what?”
“And you’ve learned quickly,” Tendris says in a low voice. His white eyes remain focused on the lake.
“If you would like, I can teach you, help you with your magic. I can give you the tools to keep yourself safe,” Nyssa offers.
“Thank you.”
“Well, I won’t. Her power will bring out the sealgairí and I’m not killing myself to protect a baby host. She will be a magnet for trouble,” Zaina snarls.
“Who are the sealgairí?” I try to pronounce the word the way crocodile lady did, but I make a mess of it.
“Just keep out of my way, Wednesday.”
I roll my eyes. As if I haven’t heard that one before. “No, my name is Tuesday,” I say with a sad shake of my head. “Wednesday is my sister.”
“What?” Her green face scrunches up with confusion.
“Boy, it doesn’t take much, does it?” I mumble.
“Your sister’s name is Wednesday?” she splutters with incredulity.
I snort. “No. But you should have seen your face.” I grin.
All three of my sisters have lovely, normal names.
It’s only me who has a wacky one. Talk about tempting fate.
I think my mum was so sure that I was a boy she didn’t even think about picking an alternative, so when it was revealed that I was a bouncing baby girl, she let my dad name me.
I was born on a Tuesday. Yes, really. Thanks, Dad.
“We are the hosts,” Nestern says in a low voice.
“Pardon?” I rapidly blink. Oh, he is answering my question that upset Nyssa before about them being part of the council. I don’t think I quite understand. Did they not send the council? The guild?
“There are four of us, well, five of us now.” Nyssa returns to her seat, waves at the others and smiles warmly.
“That is the reason we arranged this meeting so quickly.” She leans forward with enthusiasm, but her smile doesn’t reach her sad, hazel eyes.
“Miss Larson, you are in danger. The hosts have been hunted to extinction. We are the last.”
Five of us? “Oh.” Well crap.