“I appreciate this, Lysander. Now I have one more thing to discuss with you. Have you met our newest staff member?”
My stomach jolts uncomfortably. “The human?”
“Ah, you have. He’s my little pet project, I suppose you could call it.” Their mouth twists in a wry smile. “Orion tells me he’s settling in well, but how do you find him?”
Bold. Curious. Fascinating.
“Me?” I clutch my knees. “I don’t — I don’t know. I have no knowledge of humans.”
Syril goes on, oblivious to my thoughts. “Do try to get to know him. He’ll be here for a while, if he doesn’t turn down the amulet, and others may follow your example. We might inhabit human cities, yet many monsters are still afraid of humans. If we want to thrive, we must mingle.”
“Yes, of course,” I agree, though I’m reeling inside.
More humans?Will they all be as charming and interested as this one? Doubt rises at the thought. But why would he be special?
Back in the silent haven of my room I flick the lamp on, chasing the cool shadows away, and curl into the egg-shaped hammock that Bear hung for me. It wraps me tight in a sad simulation of a real embrace. I stick one foot out and push off the floor, rocking the hammock gently. Syril believes I’m something I’m not — a true prince, with poise and influence. Orion, Lilian, Plato…all the staff seem to feel the same, to varying degrees. As long as they remain outside the invisible barrier that seems to circle me, the illusion will hold.
7
EZRA
“Here you go.” Orion sets a plate in front of me and slumps into the opposite chair.
We’ve finally iced out the stragglers and closed down the club, and it’s nearly three A.M. Normally I’d just shovel a bag of cheese puffs into my face on the drive home, but I slipped and mentioned the state of my cupboards in Orion’s earshot, and he’s bullied me into eating one of Larch’s new burgers
It’s the kind made of lentils and soy, where ‘all the fixings’ means a bunch of toppings I’m not convinced belong on a burger. I spot some leafy veg that’s definitely not lettuce sticking out the sides. A pile of what look like fries are heaped on the side, but when I eat one, the texture is… not exactly potato. It tastes green.
People with less than twenty bucks in their bank account can’t be choosers, however.
I have to admit after the first few bites that whatever’s in the burger, it’s pretty damn good. Maybe it’s just that I’ve been eating a lot of plain spaghetti between tip-outs.
The quiet of the little back patio is eerie after the music and chatter. String lights glow warmly, but it’s cool out, and I pullmy hoodie tighter as the breeze picks up. No show tonight, so we caught a bit of a break — still, the kitchen was hopping and drinks flew off the bar. I’m hungrier than I realize, chewing through half the burger before I stop to take a breath.
“You know we get appies comped every night the kitchen’s open,” Orion says when I resurface.
I set the burger down and dig into the not-quite-fries. “I didn’t think farm-to-table would be my thing, to be honest.”
He chuckles. “Larch wants to host a pop-up next year at Whitecourt Lodge, so be prepared for the food to get a lot more rustic.”
“At least it’s not deconstructed.” I swipe up some of the mystery white dip that’s on my plate in lieu of ketchup. “I’m kidding, everything’s fantastic. My boxed mac and cheese is safe for another day.”
“That stuff is my weakness. I’ve been known to eat it from the pot. But please don’t tell Larch, I’m pretending to have refined taste.”
“See, you get it.”
“There’s a joke in here about eating the food of another realm,” Orion chuckles, leaning back in the wooden chair. His eyes glint oddly in the lights.
“Huh?”
“Oh, nothing.” He shrugs. “So, how are you liking the job? You gonna stick around?”
The reply comes easily. “I like it here. Really. As long as I keep making those sugary nightmares the right way, I think Lysander will even let me stay.”
“You joke, but he complains when I make them now. ” Orion rolls his eyes.
“You need the extra —” I make a sprinkling motion. “Maraschino cherries.”
He grins and gets up. “You done?”