Everybody Talks
Kit/Kat
T he chatty raccoon lady and her arachnid boss were actually pretty fucking helpful. Neither of them commented on my wraps, nor my clearly not quite boyish frame. I got the feeling they were used to people concealing things and obligated to keep their mouths shut because of some ancient tailor/customer oath thing. Okay, I assumed that because while they talked to X and me about the fit of the suits they’re going to alter, they studiously avoided asking questions that nosy humans definitely would not avoid. Even well meaning allies would have queried Xerxes on their non-binary presentation and my clearly female body, but not Gui or Laurel.
They were about as clinical with their craft as one could be and I could have kissed them for it.
But coming out to overhear the other guys trying to strategize around keeping me in a bubble set me off. I appreciate the care they all show me—some more than others—but they have to start expecting me to pull some weight. I haven’t read enough about the past Games to know for certain, but I know worrying about protecting me instead of the entire group will fuck everything up. At some point, they have to start treating me equally rather than just protectively. I don’t want them to stop being attentive, of course, because the affection starved idiot inside me is kind of getting used to it.
Pushing that anxiety-inducing thought aside, I face the guys. “Annie’s making a face that says he’s thinking, so Jasper and Slash should go get measured. Laurel said they’ll be able to get formal wear they have in the boutique altered, but we need to hurry if we want to arrive at this thing before the big secret meeting or whatever.”
Jasper frowns at me, tilting his head. “Just how much did you get out of those two?”
I shrug. “I might be an awkward turnip, but I’m a good listener and X is a good talker. We were able to get a lot, I think.”
The dragon and the shark look over to my partner in gossip, and they grin cheesily. “KK’s quiet is a perfect foil to my gab. It makes the fishing look less…. well, fishy.”
Slash flashes his teeth at me, then nods at the prince. “Come, Jasper. The little demon is correct; we need to get this done so we can infiltrate this party. It would be foolish to waste this opportunity.”
Waiting for the two of them to stomp out of the room, I think about the situation we’re in. The territory is unknown and filled with question marks and enemies—just like a high school party. Much like that setup—which admittedly I haven’t been in since the incident—there will be areas where all the ‘cliques’ of different criminals and their allies plant their flags. General areas will be full of people indulging in whatever the fuck shit they have as vices at supernatural rich people events, but the small, controlled spots will be the most dangerous while likely containing the most information.
This will require a lot of very careful maneuvering if we don’t know who is allied with whom in the background.
“KK, are you off in the clouds again?”
Salem’s voice brings me back to reality and I shrug off the embarrassment. “I was, but only because this party feels like it’s probably just an exaggerated version of parties we’ve been to. Or, um, maybe you’ve been to multiples, and I’ve been to much less, but…”
Anton nods, his eyes filling with understanding. “Right. Divided into mini-territories, but large open spaces with mingling and partying. The people in the open areas will be indulging and less likely to resist giving out secrets, but also probably not very high on the food chain.”
“Exactly,” I reply as I look at the guys seriously. “No one should go off alone for anything. That’s how bad things happen.”
The crow shifter is by my side in a second, his hand reaching for mine to squeeze it. I think he knows that’s an issue for me, and though he’s not saying anything out loud, his determination to keep me from having a flashback is obvious. “We won’t, Kit Kat. I don’t just mean you; no one will go off alone, right?”
They all nod, and Zavida holds up his phone, wiggling it. “Your watches and the phones have two forms of locators—tech and magic. Xerxes and Anton provided the magic, but it requires more proximity than the tech on the surface does. If anyone gets out of range for their basic spell, we’d need supplies to extend the range.”
His reassurance helps a bit, but no one has to be taken far away to be assaulted and hurt; I know that very well.
“Thanks, Zav,” I murmur. “But Oriel’s still right; we have an even number of people and everything should be done in pairs or higher. My experience is that if someone wants to harm you, they don’t need very long or even a lot of secrecy.”
Xerxes nods at me. “Okay. Pairs or more when we’re circulating to gather intel. We can discuss it with Jas and Slash when they switch places with Oriel and Salem. But we should probably talk about how we’re going to play our presence from a social engineering standpoint.”
That makes me pause because it’s obviously not my forte. “Um, I’m not the best person to do more than throw out suggestions from movies or books. You all know how introverted I became after the thing.”
I wish I could use the word; I really do. But I’ve never been able to stay calm afterward and I’m not starting now.
“This part isn’t the prince or Slash’s area of expertise, either. They can play along with shit and be smooth with diplomacy—more Jasper than Slash—but they are both reticent to connect to people, too.” Anton sighs, looking to his lover for help. “What’s our cover going to be?”
“Emissaries.” Xerxes grins. “Jasper can simply be himself and state like a pompous ass that his father sent him as his representative. Someone will check with the Geminis and denying us entry would trip a red flag with the King, so they’ll let us in. He can be impatient and demanding, neither of which are a stretch. Slash can be hulking and intimidating. It will get us in with little effort.”
“He’s right.”
I blink as Slash and the prince come back faster than X and I did. The shark shifter is smirking as he confirms X’s plan, his stern face handsome when he’s being just the tiniest bit defiant to his leader. “No duh, big guy.”
“Oriel, Salem, get moving,” Jasper barks as he strides over to us. “I assume your jabs are in service of coming up with our plan to infiltrate?”
Xerxes winks at him. “Why, of course, my Prince. We’re working hard to make use of the skills we bring to the table.”
“For fuck’s sake,” the dragon grumbles as he looks around. Once his eyes light on a chair, he glares at the rest of us for a second, then he heads for it. “Gather ‘round. I want to hear what our demonic butterflies think we should do to survive this bullshit.”
It’s almost like he just admitted he can’t do something—but that can’t be, right?
By the time Guillermo and Laurel finish measuring the guys, I’m feeling hungry and antsy. The shop is luxurious, but my stress about the plan X came up with is making my veins tickle with worry. Dottie is sitting on my lap, her tiny body pressed against my stomach as I stroke her head. My knee starts jiggling in my cross-legged pose and I hear a sigh from across the circle. I guess my tics are becoming more noticeable and the impatient prince has noticed.
Well, fuck him and his sociopathic level of calm despite the danger we’re going to face.
“Someone take the shrimp out to grab food or something. There’s plenty of places out there; one has to be open.”
I open my mouth to protest being treated like a naughty child, but Oriel leaps to his feet quickly and holds out his hand. I suppose I could use some time away from this tense waiting room with someone who makes me feel calm. I’d prefer to fight the prince whenever possible, but doing so this time feels stupid. I’m a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them.
“Okay.” I take the dark haired demon’s hand, making sure I don’t smoosh Dottie as I get up. Looking down at her apologetically, I murmur, “You’ll have to go in the bag for now. I think you can stay out at the party ‘cause it won’t have humans to gawk. For now, though, in you go.”
Luckily, the kinkajou is pretty complacent when it comes to me, so she lets me slide her into my bag carefully. Once I’m ready, I nod at O. He grins as he cocks his head to the door. “Time to explore a bit. We might not find a lot but it will get some of that nervous energy out of your system, KK.”
I follow Oriel out the door of the boutique, instantly relieved when I get a breath of fresh air. I’m not claustrophobic, per se, but I feel crowded when my anxiety builds up alongside anticipation. Being in the open air is probably more risky than staying inside, but I needed the space. Somehow, dickface Jasper realized it before I did, and that really pisses me off.
“Stop worrying about Prince Prickface,” Oriel says as he points towards the sidewalk heading to the right. “I know you’re obsessing because you get this little wrinkle between your eyebrows whenever Jasper’s done something to get your dander up.”
My scowl is petulant; I can’t help it. “How do you even know that phrase?”
“Some grumpy kid has been making us all learn about human movies. I’m sure I picked it up from there. What’s a dander, anyway?” His expression is so earnest that I laugh softly, and when he reaches out his arm around me, I don’t shrink away.
Progress comes in millimeters and centimeters, but it’s still progress.
“Uh, it’s like skin flakes that shed on animals.”
Oriel recoils, giving me a disbelieving look. “Why the hell is there a phrase about getting your dead skin flakes up when you're mad? Humans are so fucking bizarre, man.”
Chuckling, I shrug as he distracts me and we start walking past the storefronts to see if anything is open. “Don’t ask me; I’m not a linguist. It’s just an idiom that means getting pissy. I don’t have the entire history of human shit in my head, O.”
“Well, it’s weird.” He pauses for a moment, looking at the window of an ice cream shop wistfully. “Too bad this place is closed. I’m dying to taste what it’s like up here.”
“Why don’t you guys come up here more often? I mean, you all say you’re soooo much older than me and that you and demons age differently, so I assume that means like centuries have passed up here while you grew up. Why not drop in every once in a while?”
Oriel sighs and shrugs. “Honestly? There’s too fucking much going on up here all the time . The Society isn’t fond of demons and neither are most supernaturals. We stick to Hell other than the normal worker bees who come up here to do their thing and the reps the royals send across the globe to keep their eyes on shit. Why get involved in this mess when we don’t have to?”
I grin a bit. “In other words, we’re fat and happy in our little bubble, so whatever happens to everyone else is not our business? How very privileged of the demon world.”
“Don’t go all ‘ vive la révolution ’ on me, Kit Kat. Keeping Hell from spilling onto the surface isn’t easy, either. Our families are assholes—no argument there—but they’re also quite capable of fucking up shit here so much worse than it already is. We keep the demons here for the same reason the deities and the Fae try to limit how much their people cross realms. Way more power and so much potential for extinction.”
Stopping in front of a pizza joint, I look at him seriously. “Seems like this trip is about finding out if some of the demons have decided they want to come out of the shadows.”
Oriel nods as he squeezes my shoulders. “The announcement of the Games is a precursor to bad things in our history, KK. Jasper’s right to worry, especially since Darkstar’s behaving so boldly. It’s more worrisome than he’s letting on.”
Great. We’re worried about dying in trials by fire, and if we lose, the ensuing war could spread to humanity—no pressure or anything.