by Amy Sumida
“I'm not sure,” I sniffed it and then made a face. “I think Conri might have made it himself.”
“Yes, well, like I said,” Murdock chuckled. “There should be coffee soon which will hold you until the food is prepared.”
“I think I'd prefer a real drink,” I muttered as I left the office.
“You and me both,” Tiernan groaned as we got in line. “Why aren't there stairs in this place?”
“Oh, there are stairs but using them would set off alarms and I'm unwilling to climb them anyway,” I shrugged and searched for someplace inconspicuous to throw my sandwich.
The ding of the elevator had me lifting my head hopefully. Maybe this wouldn't take too long. I dove back down again though when I saw who walked out of the elevator car.
“What is it?” Tiernan looked down the hallway. “Oh, not him again.”
Yep, it was him. Brandon Murdock, Councilman Murdock's son and general pain in my tukhus. He was of course heading in our direction because of three reasons. First, his Dad's office was right behind me. Second, the hallway was a straight shot to the meeting room and the only options were other offices. And third, it was just my luck.
I tried to slide behind some witches but Tiernan was pretty hard to miss and tended to attract attention with his shiny hair, so it was only to be expected that Brandon would notice him and then look for me.
“Seren,” he spat my name out like it tasted foul.
“Brandon,” I sighed as I remembered the last time I'd seen him. I believe the conversation had ended with me saying; Namaste motherfucker. Not exactly the best way to leave things.
“I took your advice and started meditating,” he said to my utter shock. “It's really helped me.”
“You have?” I blinked at him.
“No I haven't started fucking meditating,” he growled. “Who do I look like, the Dalai Lama?”
“Well, no, I think he wears glasses,” I looked to Tiernan for help.
“And has better fashion sense,” Tiernan agreed.
“Fuck you, you fairy fag,” Brandon said, making my eyes widen further.
“Pardon me but I couldn't help but overhear you insult my friend, Count Tiernan,” Raza purred.
Brandon looked over, ready to snap at whomever was stupid enough to interfere, and then froze. His mouth dropped open as he looked over Raza's wings, the clicking talons in his maniacally folded hands, and the gleam in his predator eyes. He had to stare up a bit since Raza topped his own considerable height. Extinguisher Brandon Murdock swallowed hard and then pushed past us, retreating into his father's office without another word.
“I don't know whether to resent the fact that you have that affect on him while I don't,” Tiernan mused. “Or just enjoy the pleasure of watching that cúl tóna shit himself.”
“Cúl tóna?” I lifted my brow at Tiernan.
“I believe the closest English translation is man with a penis on his head,” Raza explained for Tiernan.
“You just called Brandon a dickhead in Gaelic?”
“Yes,” Tiernan looked at me like he was confused as to why it was such a big deal.
“You're my hero,” I laughed and gave him a one-armed hug.
“Um, I believe I was the one who sent the cúl tóna running,” Raza huffed. “Shouldn't I get a hug?”
“No,” Tiernan and I said together.
“Here, have a sandwich,” I handed Raza the plate and he stared down at it dubiously before lifting the sandwich and taking a bite.
“Not bad,” he noted and started scoffing the sandwich down as Tiernan and I exchanged disgusted looks.
Chapter Forty-Nine
“What's up, Princess Tinkerbell?”
“Abby!” I shouted as I ran through the crowded living room, elbowing extinguishers out of my way, to hug my friend.
“Hey, Count Tightass,” Abby chucked Tiernan in the shoulder after she got free of me. “How's it hanging?”
“Everything hangs as it should, thank you,” Tiernan smiled at her. “Torquil is around- ah,” Tiernan smiled wider as Torquil came up and handed Abby a can of soda. “And here he is now.”
“I was getting the lady a drink,” Torquil said stiffly.
“Thanks, Torque,” Abby kissed his cheek.
“Extinguisher Abby,” Torquil sighed. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me by my whole name?”
“Two-thousand-five-hundred-sixty-eightand a half,” she said with stone-faced sincerity.
“What?” Torquil gaped at her.
“She's joking,” I whispered to Torquil as Tiernan chuckled.
“Oh, I'm a joke to you,” he said to Abby as he straightened. “I understand,” he turned on his heel and tried to leave but Abby wasn't having any of that.
“Relax, I only tease men who I like,” she huffed as she grabbed his arm and swung him around.
He started to protest again but then she took his face in her hands and laid one on him. Tiernan and I gaped, in fact most of the room stopped to stare as Abby committed social suicide in front of us. What was so wrong with kissing Torquil? Well nothing, if you were anyone other than an extinguisher. Extinguishers married other extinguishers. Period. You didn't date anyone outside the group, you didn't sleep with anyone outside the group, you didn't even kiss anyone outside the group. To do so was a declaration of dissent against centuries of tradition. It was a slap in the face of our ancestors. An act of insubordination that could get you into serious trouble. And Abby had just done it at the worst possible moment.
The thing was; nobody did anything. No one shouted for justice or cursed her for being a traitor. Nothing happened except a lot of staring and the most aggressive response I'd ever seen from Torquil. He picked Abby up, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed for the elevator.
My mouth dropped further.
“I don't know what surprises me more,” I finally said. “Torquil running off with Abby like he's Conan the Barbarian, or Abby letting him do it.”
“Yes,” was all Tiernan could get out.
“I definitely need a drink now,” I headed for the bar in the corner of the room.
“Make mine a double,” Tiernan said.
“She's been waiting months to do that,” Councilman Karmen Simmel sidled over to us and started pouring the drinks. “And she stole the name I was gonna call you,” he pouted.
“You're still here?” I grinned, unbelievably happy to see a familiar face that wasn't kissing a fairy, grim with anxiety, or spewing venomous words at me.
“I asked to stay,” he shrugged. “I know it's cliché, a gay man in SF, but I'm happy to be home. And how are you, you silver-eyed fox?” He asked Tiernan.
“Tired but otherwise fine,” Tiernan smiled and accepted the drink Karmen handed him. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Sweetie,” Karmen purred.
“Brandon just called him a fairy fag,” I blabbed.
“Oooh a fairy fag?” Karmen straightened. “Do you know where I could find one of those?”
“What the hell is going on here?” I gaped at him. “Did Murdock decree that extinguishers should now date fairies?”
“Not exactly,” Karmen shrugged. “But after you became princess, people started to talk, saying that mixing our blood might be a good idea. Look what it did for you after all.”
“So that's why no one has commented on Abby's ardent display?” Tiernan asked.
“Yep,” Karmen came around to the front of the bar and leaned against it casually. He batted his long lashes up at Tiernan and flicked a thick lock of dark hair over an ear. “No one's come out and made a statement but the whole marry an extinguisher thing was never really a law anyway. Not that it's ever mattered to me, being a councilman, and a Simmel, and a gay,” he said the last word with a flourish.
“Why do your friends flirt with me?” Tiernan asked me dryly.
“Because you're sexy,” I said back in the same tone. “Would you prefer to be ugly and have no one flirt with you?”
<
br /> “No, I'm fine with the flirting,” he took another sip of his drink.
“I need to have a word with Brandon,” Karmen pursed his lips. “He shouldn't be using the word fag. Not in reference to gay men and certainly not in reference to straight. It's an offensive word.”
“Oh,” I blinked, surprised that he was so sensitive about it. “Yeah, you're absolutely right. It's a horrible word.”
“I mean there's so much more creative words for gays,” Karmen mused. “There's; puff, queer, jobby-jabber, butt pirate, lemon, Peter puffer, nellie, poofter, chickenhawk, bear, and my favorite... Twinkie. That's what I am,” he ran a hand down his slim physique, “a Twinkie.”
“I'm sorry,” Tiernan was staring at Karmen like he'd started speaking Chinese. “Did you just say that you're a Twinkie?”
“Yep,” Karmen smiled proudly.
“I think my understanding of what a Twinkie is must be incorrect,” Tiernan frowned.
“If you think it's a golden spongecake filled with cream, then you're not mistaken,” I said to Tiernan.
“Oh, then I fail to see the correlation,” he looked over Karmen.
“I'm slim, beautiful, and full of-”
“Okay, we get it,” I interrupted before Karmen could finish.
“So, about these witches...” Karmen's voice fell away as he stared at something over my shoulder.
I turned and saw Raza coming towards us with Cat. Cat bounded across the room, people parting for her like the sea for Moses. She had dropped her glamour and appeared as she was; a giant puka. Having a dragon-djinn in tow didn't help either. Karmen's hand shot out before I could stop him and the next thing I knew, Cat was levitating off the ground, her legs still pumping but getting her absolutely nowhere.
“Who the hell let a puka in here?” Karmen's voice lost it's gay melodic quality and dropped into commanding councilman tone. “And who is that?” He pointed to Raza.
“I let the puka in, you schmuck,” I smacked Karmen. “Can you put Cat down please?”
“Cat?” He gaped at me while Cat just gave up running and started to enjoy floating. She plopped herself down but ended up in a slow spin.
“My twilight puka,” I waved towards her. “She protects me.”
“You named a puka Cat?” He asked in horror.
“After my mother,” I nodded.
“You named a puka after your mother?!” He nearly shrieked.
“You wanna tone it down? We're already attracting a lot of attention with your floating fairy dog trick,” I waved a hand towards Cat.
“Oh, sorry,” he let Cat down and she ran over to us and sat beside me. “Hello,” he said to her.
She nodded.
“She just nodded at me,” Karmen gaped at Cat.
“She's a fey animal,” I gave his shoulder a pat.
“But, Seren, a puka?”
“She's a twilight puka,” I said again. “A blend, like me. She's a little less violent than her cousins. Notice that she has gray fur instead of black.”
“Twilight?” Karmen lifted a brow. “So like a hybrid? Like a zebra?”
“Wait, what?” I frowned. “Zebra's aren't hybrids.”
“Of course they are,” Karmen frowned back. “Like mules; they're made when you mate a donkey with a horse.”
“Karmen,” I asked carefully, “what do you think they crossbreed to get zebras?”
“A black horse and a white horse,” he said simply.
“Um, no,” I gave a little giggle.
“No?” Karmen asked.
“No,” Tiernan assured him. “They are their own breed.”
“Oh,” Karmen looked back to Cat. “So; not like a zebra.”
“A zebra has nothing to do with it,” Raza declared as he stepped up to us. “Let go of the zebra.”
“Done; I've let it go,” Karmen looked Raza up and down. “Which leaves my hands free to grab other things. So why don't you tell me what breed you are? Besides smokin' hot, that is,” he gave Raza a dramatic wink.
“Well you got the smokin' part right,” I chuckled.
“And the hot part,” Raza cast an indignant look my way.
“He's a dragon-djinn,” Tiernan said to Karmen with a smirk.
“No,” Karmen breathed in wonder. “Stop, I'm going to faint,” he started to fan himself.
“And I'm a perfectly formed dragon-djinn,” Raza nodded as he reached for his pants. “Would you care to see?”
“Absolutely!” Karmen's eyes went wide, like a kid on Christmas morning.
“No!” Tiernan and I shouted together as we lunged for Raza's pants.
“I'm teasing you,” Raza chuckled and pushed our hands away. “I think I'm getting quite good at drollery.”
“What's drollery?” I whispered to Karmen.
“Who cares? He's gorgeous; just smile and nod,” Karmen advised as he did that very thing.
Chapter Fifty
Later that night, our team boarded a plane for Brisbane, Australia. It was a seventeen hour flight so I was once again grateful that we had my dad's private jet. Boy was he going to have a hell of a fuel bill when this was all done.
I was able to get some sleep on the plane and we were even served another meal by our thoughtful stewards. So by the time we touched down in Brisbane, I was feeling much better. The fairy watcher for the Australian rath met us at the airport and gave us a ride out to Samford Valley, just a little ways outside of Brisbane.
His name was Bambam. I'm not kidding, it was Bambam, which is evidently an Aboriginal name. Who knew the Flintstones were Aboriginals? Anyway, Bambam was a bunyip. I bet you didn't know that there were Australian fairies. Well there are. Most of them are shapeshifters, like Bambam, and with all the strange creatures roaming Australia, no one pays them any mind.
Bunyips are water-dwellers, similar to kelpies. They have horse tails but aren't really horses. In fact, they look more like skinny walruses when they're in their animal forms. They have thick tusks, wide flippers, and huge dark eyes like a seal. In his man form, Bambam retained only the eyes and a trace of the flippers in his webbed hands.
Otherwise, he looked like an aboriginal; skin the color of an acorn, matching hair that hung in lustrous waves to his shoulders, a wide nose, and an equally generous mouth. He looked sweet, kind even, but I knew that bunyips had a taste for tender human flesh; usually small children or women. Of course, they weren't supposed to indulge anymore but the way Bambam kept looking at my thighs had me worried.
He drove us into a lush valley, something I didn't expect to find in Australia. This was my first trip to the previous penal colony and I'd thought to find more of an African type of landscape. What Bambam drove us through was closer to something you'd find in California. The valley was surrounded by curving mountains, spotted with wide-armed trees, and covered in foliage in every shade of green. Lavish lakes adorned the valley floor, one edged up against the property that Bambam drove us to.
“Here we are,” Bambam got out of the van and took a deep breath of the eucalyptus scented air. “Home sweet home.”
“Beautiful,” I admired as Cat went bounding off into the open field bordering the sprawling ranch style home.
“The rath is within those trees there,” Bambam pointed to a copse of trees behind the house. “Did you want to come in for some tea before you leave?”
“Tea?” I blinked. What was with watchers offering us tea?
“He means food,” Sarah explained before she said to Bambam. “No thank you, we ate on the plane.”
“Ace!” Bambam smiled. “I'll leave you to it, then. Watch out for the bities,” with that, he disappeared into the house.
“Please tell me bities is not another word for crocodiles,” Frederick begged Sarah.
“No,” she laughed. “He means insects, like mosquitoes.” She started heading for the rath excitedly. “Come on, Fairy awaits.”
“I think I'd rather deal with crocodiles,” Conri grumbled as he slapped a bitie on his arm.
“How can I be descended from such a wuss,” Aidan teased Conri. They had bonded on the plane and Conri had confessed that bargests were most likely the ancestors of the Pack witches.
“Maybe I'm wrong,” Conri shrugged. “You could be descended from pukas.”
“Hey,” Aidan growled.
“Yeah,” I added my scowl. “Don't insult Cat.”
“Hey!” Aidan transferred his angry look to me but I was already off, chasing down Sarah so I could catch her before she walked into the rath all by herself.
“Cease your shenanigans,” Raza growled. “Walking the rath is sacred and should be done with respect.”
“Yes, Lord Raza,” Aidan and Conri said together like a couple of chastised children.
The fairy mound was similar to every other fairy mound I'd seen; a small hill with a door set into its side. This door was gold, embellished with a scene of a silver moon hanging over a carved onyx castle and forest. It was symbolic, a way for us to know where we were headed. In this instance, to the Unseelie Kingdom.
Cat came running over and then settled into place beside me, showing a reverence for the rath that the other hounds had failed to. Raza smiled down at her approvingly, then stepped forward and slid in front of Sarah, who had been first in line for the door.
“You need to be warned of what lies through this door,” Raza announced.
“Shall I abandon all hope?” She teased him.
“Not yet. But soon perhaps,” he smiled maliciously but instead of intimidating her, it only encouraged her.
“Bring it on, Bonfire-breath,” Sarah stuck her hands on her hips.
“The path is narrow,” Raza went on, ignoring her nickname for him, and looked up at the rest of the witches. “Do not step from it or you shall be lost to the Between forever.”
“The Between?” Sarah finally lost her smile.
“The In-Between to be exact,” I took over. “Don't worry, as long as you stay on the path, you'll be fine.”
“Oh, okay then,” Sarah didn't look reassured.
“Respect the rath and it will respect you,” Raza said ominously and then opened the door.