Page 98 of Envious Of Fire
“I have returned,” comes another voice—Ashara, waltzing between the tables from out of nowhere as she approaches, a tray of shot glasses balanced on her palm. “I know, I know, you missed me, but how can we call this a party without shots?”
“This is a party?” asks Ernest in the pink suit, frowning. “Ithought we were meeting to discuss policy.I did read the email.”
“Oh, thank Christ, arealdrink,” says Zara, grabbing one.
Cindy takes one as well, downs it in one gulp, then nearly chokes. “Oh, wow, this isnotdiluted.”
“Straight from the vein,” sings Ashara with a wink. “Well, notstraightfrom, of course, as according to protocol. As close as one can get without the utilization of teeth.” Then she seems to notice Tristan like an afterthought. “Ah, we have an unexpected guest. I’m afraid I haven’t enough shots.”
Despite her inauthentic tone, Tristan offers a smile.As it turns out, I lack an appetite.Please don’t mind me, enjoy.
“Don’t mind if I do,” mumbles Cindy, snagging a second one. When Zara swats her on the arm, she shouts, “What? You know dang well Peter’s too young to drink, and Tristan just said he lacks an appetite.”
Peter squints at her. “Lady, I just don’t prefer the taste, and for the record, I’m seventy-eight years old.”
“Onlyliterally,” grumbles Cindy back.
Director Tsuki leans forward, setting down her glass after just one sip. “I’ve noticed you’re less stressed these days.”
The comment is directed to Markadian. “Considerably.”
“Is it due to your sister’s return?”
Ashara appears delighted by the question, but Markadian’s eyes flick halfway to the violinist at his side, a smirk playing on his lips as his hand shifts on Kaleb’s lower waist. Tristan can’t quite see, but he imagines Kaleb’s butt has been getting a lot of uninvited, less-than-subtle fondling lately.
Ashara takes the unanswered question for an opportunity. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare takeallthe credit,” she says with a merry yet calculated laugh. “My brother is more than capable of handling the burden of his post, as he’s proven for nearly the last century.”
“But you carry new wisdom and experiences,” Tsuki pointsout. “You have studied other immortal governing powers across the world. Ask me the last time I paid a visit to my old family in Japan. I can’t begin to tell you the first thing of how immortals are governed over there.Arethey even governed?”
“China’sDàozhì De Fángzihas been recently praised as the pride of East Asia,” states Peter, “and is lauded for being one of the most well-organized immortal governments in the world.”
Tsuki eyes him. “China isn’t Japan.”
Peter frowns back at her. “I know.”
“Also, I don’t think you said that right. Anyway, my point is,” Tsuki goes on, turning back to Ashara and ignoring an indignant look from Peter, “you could provide us a perspective of things we may learn from. All of us face similar struggles with the Lawless immortals and the frog-eating book nerds—”
“She means Ferals and witches,” hisses Cindy giddily to Zara, who wrinkles her face and mutters, “Obviously.”
“—not to mentionweres—” Tsuki goes on.
“Every fuckin’ full moon,” growls Cindy.
“—and if there are better means unknown to us to manage our side of the world,” Tsuki goes on, “I believe it can be a strong asset for us all if you took a greater role in our government.”
Ashara smiles graciously. “I wouldn’t dare impose upon my brother’s authority.” She leans in, winks. “He likes being the only dick in the room.”
Lord Markadian lets out a pleasant laugh, casually rubbing Kaleb’s backside. Upon giving it a firm squeeze, Kaleb slips on a note. No one notices. “If onlythatwere the reason, sister.”
“My gracious Lord, didn’t you once consider the idea of a director under you?” asks Ernest. “It must be so tiring, to be both Lord of the regionanddirector of your own domain.”
“Lord Xiang does it just fine in New Yorkaeda,” points out Zara between sips.
“It must’ve been an email I read a month or two ago,” saysErnest, “referencing a hypothetical director of Vegasyn …”
“You wanna stuff a woman as capable as Ashara behind a director’s desk?” asks Tsuki, lifting an eyebrow. “You might as well place her on a shelf to collect dust. No, it isn’t the same as holding the title of Lordess.”
“Lordess??” cries Ashara, then lets out another rehearsed torrent of laughter, shaking her head. “Let us not get ahead of ourselves here …"
