Page 43 of The Demon's Fire
The jaguar shifter’s eyes were an unsettling amber, his beast prowling close to the surface. Kole couldn’t blame him. They were out of place here.
Jarek winked at Nace. “So, while I’m assisting the ylves with some radical Isolationists, who are a pain in the ass, Kole here is hand-in-hand with a gorgeous Alliance bigwig. Doesn’t seem fair.”
Kole sought Skyler in the crowd. She was gorgeous. “What makes you think my job is not a pain in the ass also?”
“Is it?” asked Nace.
“Sometimes.”
Talk stopped when waiters set endless platters of chicken, beef, and lamb on their table. Some meat was cooked. Some floated in blood. Nace snatched the latter. Shifters enjoyed their flesh with the heart still beating. Plates heaped with vegetables, bread, fruit, and cheese came next.
Screw the veggies. Protein powers fire.
Once appetites were satisfied, the commanders chose to stand. Years of experience made them uneasy sitting in the middle of any room where they were vulnerable to attack from all sides. They leaned against the wall, tugging at too tight jackets, dying to take off stiff shirts, and wishing the time would pass faster.
“We saw some Isolationists protesting outside the ylves’ Greeting Chamber. What’s their story?” asked Kole. He’d already gathered info from Caleth and company, but more never hurt.
Jarek folded his arms over his chest. “The more peaceful are demanding a permit to cross to Earth so they can picket Alliance headquarters. Hell no. But I am stuck at the table, negotiating with the idiotic bastards. The more violent among them are absent from the face-to-face. They want to bomb the human realm. My answer to them is fuck no. Simonis, the founder of the Isolationists, is silent. The group is radicalizing. I feel it in my djinn bones.”
“I heard they’ve been hassling mix-breed mates.”
“True. In my region and in North Shelters.”
With Braelyn tucked under his arm, Rein paced up to the three commanders, as uncomfortable as hisfrerons.
“Minister Alarik’s your father. Couldn’t you escape this charade?” asked Nace.
“No. Besides, we were double whammied. Braelyn’s dad is George James. The human over there.” Rein pointed to a dignitary table near the front. “He’s on the Alliance’s board of directors. Here to support Chief Maxwell.”
“This is fun, though.” Braelyn squeezed Rein’s arm, sounding almost bouncy.
Four grunts met her comment.
Her gaze pinged from one dour face to another. “It’s exciting to dress up sometimes. You guys would fare much better if you stopped acting as if you’d rather kill something.” She snapped her fingers. “I know. We need drinks. Rein, be a dear.”
Kole coughed into his hand while Nace and Jarek stifled grins. The vampire mix blinked, his lips squeezed together. Trying not to look whipped, he stomped off to get booze, bringing back five specially blended Blue Legend Reserve whiskeys distilled in Wildwynd by satyrs.
Rein passed glasses around, giving Braelyn a stern warning as he handed off to her. “You remember when you had this the other night?”
“I do. Bottom’s up.” With that, his human mate chugged her drink. Not to be outdone, Rein, Kole, Jarek, and Nace downed their whiskeys, eyeing Braelyn with what bordered on admiration for her unteared eyes.
“My turn.” Kole lumbered off for another round. Alcohol had only a minimal effect on Aeternals. A plus. Except the satyrs’ special blend. He wasn’t sure how Braelyn could handle it.
She waved off the second drink when Kole returned, instead heading off to find Sabine, the celestial nymph Firebrand. When Braelyn had come across Rein in a Seattle alley last summer, she had seen him pin a Kalli to the wall. Unable to wipe her memory, the normally in-control warrior got a bad case of idiot, kidnapping her and bringing her to Scath. It was Sabine who had befriended her by teaching her to throw spikes and knives. The nymph had become a friend, a trainer, and an adviser.
Supreme Lawgiver Fera dragged Skyler toward the Scion Firebrands. She was traveling from group to group with her trophy. Before they could begin any meaningless chit-chat, an exuberant witch, decked out in wild-colored silk pants, a fringed scarf, long shirt, and sandals, slapped Skyler on the back. Minister Alarik, her brother, looked on, nodding to his son, Rein.
Before Skyler tumbled face first, Indigo clasped her arm. “I’m right. You’ve met me, dear.” The witch winked.
“I don’t think so.” Skyler’s eyes narrowed.
“Of course you have. The strip joint in Philly? No. Not there. Do you have a regular corner in Hollywood?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Why? What did you do?” Indigo’s eyebrows arched while she snatched hold of Skyler’s hands. “No. No. Shit. I didn’t want to talk river biz here.”
Greeting Skyler, Alarik filled her in. “My sister is the only Aeternal who visits the River Am. She gathers knowledge there, some of which is meaningless.”
