Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
“Aww.” Cecil flicked his cigarette, idly watching the little group of brethren stomp in a circle around me, chanting off-key and off-beat. “This is nice, Chosen. Your first royal worshippers.”
It was not nice. Like everything they did, it was irritating, but apparently, this was a ritual that would go on for a while.
“That’s not really necessary, you guys.” Exhaustion was creeping in again, and with it came a flare of anxiety. Those dark intrusive thoughts were sure to follow. Damn it, I needed to get some sleep.
“Shut up and submit to our worship.” Hashleigh pointed her finger as they jiggled past.
I sighed deeply. I should probably be grateful that this little side-mission was successful, but it was hard to take the win when I felt so unsettled.
Apart from saving the brethren’s spark stone, everything I learned today was bad news.
Connor was still spreading misinformation all throughout the Middle World, painting me as exactly what I always feared I was—a batshit crazy woman, an arrogant, turbo-powered Karen who thought she knew everything, someone who would stop at nothing to get her own way.
And it was working. These poor creatures were so sure I’d come to kill them, they’d even put their affairs in order.
I was glad I could help them—even though their worship was annoying—and it was too bad they were so low on the supernatural totem pole. Sure, they loved me now, but their opinion was hardly going to sway anyone else to my side.
And it was equally annoying that none of the other supes I’d helped were speaking up to change the narrative at all.
The mermaids in particular were pretending that I’d never existed, probably because I tricked one of their own and took out their biggest weapon by beating the sea witch.
The berserkers were keeping their mouths shut, too, because they were terrified of the creepy little banwyn.
They didn’t want to paint a target on their backs.
I suppose I should take supporters where I could get them. “Do you think we could wrap this up soon, Hashleigh?” I checked my phone, hoping that a new crisis had reared its head for me to take care of. No such luck. “I have to get back to the office eventually.”
“Two more verses,” Hashleigh promised as they spun in a circle and stomped the other way.
Cecil scrolled through his phone, patting the screen with his little paw. “What kind of gown are we going for this evening, Chosen? Watered silk? Structured brocade?”
Oh, that’s right. Tonight, I was having dinner with Donovan. Alone.
Our first date. He must have alerted the troops already if Cecil was in outfit-planning mode. A tingle of anticipation rolled through my belly, setting my core to a nice simmer. “Whatever you think will be suitable, Cecil.”
“Something easy to take off, then,” he chuckled under his breath. “I suppose we should go for something formal, because of the gravity of the occasion. Solidifying and codifying magical bonds isn’t something that happens every day, I suppose.”
I barely heard him. I was thinking of Donovan.
Just then, an enormous crash shattered the only pleasant daydream I’d had today. All heads turned towards the office outside.
“Uh, guys,” Wendy said. “We might have left them for a fraction too long. They’re rioting out there.”
I looked; she was right. The frustrated humans had obviously figured that they’d been left to wait with no staff members around to serve them. They’d reached their breaking point—flipping tables, kicking the broken self-service kiosk, and breaking plastic signs.
“Whoa.” I froze for a moment, watching the chaos quickly spread, shocked at how little it took to send someone from frustrated to so furious they’d lose control of themselves. The people out there now, they weren’t individuals anymore, they were pack animals—a furious, vengeful mob.
Danger pricked at my senses, pulling my focus away from the rioting humans for a second.
Just outside, a familiar figure lurked in the doorway. He stood preternaturally still, looking through the automatic glass doors, watching the chaos unfold in the waiting room.
I hissed under my breath. “Goddamn.”
Cecil padded over towards me. “What is it?”
I pointed. “Detective Striker is waiting out there.”
Cecil looked, his eyes widening. “Oh. Oh, yeah, that’s a big bad wolf if ever I saw one.”
“He followed us here. Cecil, I can’t leave here now; he could arrest me?—”
A violent image lurched into my mind’s eye, throwing me directly into a horrific memory—I was shoved to the ground, my cheek pushed into the dirt.
Rough hands wrenched my arms behind my back, tearing at my shoulders.
The pain was bewildering, the ease at which they’d overpowered me knocked the breath out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.
A paw smacked me in the face. “Chosen!”
The nightmare receded. I blinked. “Whoa.”
“Are you okay?” He stared at me. “What’s your deal? Why are you zoning out and making weird faces? Is it the brethren?”
“Uh…” I didn’t want to tell Cecil about the dark thoughts coursing through my head, so I nodded weakly. “Yeah, it must be.”
“Well, shake off the irritation and focus, woman!”
My eyes flicked back to the window. Striker was still there, heavy brow furrowed, watching the people inside tip over tables and smash signs. “He’s waiting for me.”
“Let him wait. You can take out a werewolf, Chosen.”
“But he’s a cop, Cecil.” I shook my head, desperate to get rid of the dregs of terror that lingered even though the nightmare had gone.
“You don’t understand. That’s why he’s here.
He said so himself. He’s a werewolf, yes, but he’s waiting for me to do something stupid so he can ‘take me down.’ He’s in Connor’s pocket.
And if he’s waiting out there, I bet you anything he’s waiting for me.
There’s literally a riot kicking off in the DMV, and he’s waiting for me to come out so he can arrest me for it. ”
Cecil tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Do you want me to kill him?”
“No!”
“Oh, you want to do it yourself?”
“Cecil, no! Goddamn it, you’ve been spending too much time with Cress. If I kill him, that makes me just as bad as Connor. I don't want to make a habit of permanently removing the people who stand in my way.”
“Oh. Oh, well, that’s not good at all.”
“We need to get out of here. Hashleigh, is there a back exit?”
“Yes, my Queen.” She bowed and picked up her toddler. “Follow me.”