sf benson

Brennan growled and offered me his arm. I took it, and he escorted me to the table. All of the Riders were in attendance and looking dapper. I honestly didn’t know they made tuxedos that big, and surprisingly, the guys didn’t look like trained gorillas in them. Stewie definitely had shades of Gomez Adams going on, and the other two were all mafia-tough. Jonas fell into that category, too, but kept pulling at his collar. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the fit that was making him uncomfortable.

The room was hella tense, and the table broken out by factions. Anyone associated with Fire was at one end, then Gaia. She had on a cloth-of-gold kaftan that made her skin literally glow, and her hair was in intricate braids. She exuded vitality and beauty, everything that the title of Mother Earth evoked. She also looked stoned off her gourd.

Aegaeus was across from her.

Cue the data dump.

All right, so look. The All Father wasn’t the only one I had history with. Oh please, like that’s a huge shock, but this wasn’t like that one time at band camp. This had been very specifically, that one time after a bris in Canaan. The wine hadn’t watered been nearly enough, not that I’d complained, and for whatever reason, Aegaeus had decided to let loose, and I’d totally taken advantage. You know, that whole opposites attracting—Okay, maybe it was more seeing how far I could push him, and then he totally called my bluff. What? There was no way I was backing down, and let’s just say that our sexual game of chicken went further than either of us intended.

Anywho—I think I mentioned make-up sex was freaking hot. Well, let’s just say hate sex with Aegaeus had been steamy.

Literally.

Yeah. So I know I said after he first merged with Morgana he was all skinny with a shrunken chest, but that’s not how he looked way back when, or now. Whatever body sharing set-up he’d worked out with her had let him fully assume his form, which was basically the little mermaid’s daddy on steroids. His grey hair flowed across his shoulders all Fabio, and his beard was close cut. He was in an inky black tux, and the buttons on his shirt were pearls. Anyways, I smiled at him, and he scowled.

Yup, still hated me. Moving on.

Kyle—no, the All Father—was farther down. He was Baywatch meets GQ amazing with some svelte blonde chippy at his side, the sprite Brennan had mentioned if I had to guess, and most likely the dumb cunt he’d been referring to, though I doubted she was wearing a G-string or anything else resembling panties. Not under that dress. Remember that air ghost with boobs back at the temple? Sprites can turn corporeal if the mood strikes them, but she probably wouldn’t be able to maintain it through dinner without frequent reminders. They weren’t known for their mental prowess. They were known for being wide-eyed, brainless gutter sluts. Figures the All Father would bring one. He knew they made my teeth grind. God, I hated bimbos.

Whatever. They both ignored me, too busy eye-fucking each other.

I ground my teeth.

At the end of the table was the Gwinth. He looked good, but so had crypto when it first came out. His eyes burned gold as they ran over me, and he licked his lips. It made me want to bathe in bleach. Kennet sat at his right hand in a formal kilt. No lie, it was the ugliest plaid I’d ever seen. Mustard yellow, periwinkle, and a weird shade of red that couldn’t make up its mind to go orange or purple. His calves made up for it. They were super impressive in those tight fringed socks.

Brennan pulled out the chair at the end of the table, and I sat, all eyes less two pairs on me.

Well, wasn’t this nice.

I smiled so I wouldn’t scream, and Brennan tapped the side of his glass with a butter knife to get Joanie and Chachi’s attention. Everyone else was already rapt. Some of them disturbingly so.

“I appreciate all of you bringing your candidates for representation.” Brennan glared at the All Father, and he didn’t seem to notice, still intent on that sprite. Was he trying to make me jealous? What? No, it wasn’t working; it was just rude.

The imps came in with salads. It was one of my favorites. Hearts of palm with supremes of citrus and sliced fennel bulb. I munched as Brennan continued.

“As of midnight tomorrow, none but those formally approved by all parties shall have access to Envy. We’re in agreement that the rota will run from sunrise to sunset—”

“I’m not getting up at sunrise.”

“—until a consort is chosen. The proscribed hours are traditional, Lovely.”

“I don’t care.” I batted my lashes at him. If I had to play along with this crap, I sure as hell wasn’t doing it at the ass-crack of dawn. “Ten to ten.”

“That cuts into my hunting time,” the Gwinth said.

I rolled my eyes. “Boo-freaking-hoo. Being dead will cut into it more. Have fun with that. I agreed to let you court me, not rearrange my schedule to suit yours. Take it or leave it.”

His eyes glinted. “Oh, I firmly intend to take it.”

Asshole.

Brennan growled and offered me his arm. I took it, and he escorted me to the table. All of the Riders were in attendance and looking dapper. I honestly didn’t know they made tuxedos that big, and surprisingly, the guys didn’t look like trained gorillas in them. Stewie definitely had shades of Gomez Adams going on, and the other two were all mafia-tough. Jonas fell into that category, too, but kept pulling at his collar. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the fit that was making him uncomfortable.

The room was hella tense, and the table broken out by factions. Anyone associated with Fire was at one end, then Gaia. She had on a cloth-of-gold kaftan that made her skin literally glow, and her hair was in intricate braids. She exuded vitality and beauty, everything that the title of Mother Earth evoked. She also looked stoned off her gourd.

Aegaeus was across from her.

Cue the data dump.

All right, so look. The All Father wasn’t the only one I had history with. Oh please, like that’s a huge shock, but this wasn’t like that one time at band camp. This had been very specifically, that one time after a bris in Canaan. The wine hadn’t watered been nearly enough, not that I’d complained, and for whatever reason, Aegaeus had decided to let loose, and I’d totally taken advantage. You know, that whole opposites attracting—Okay, maybe it was more seeing how far I could push him, and then he totally called my bluff. What? There was no way I was backing down, and let’s just say that our sexual game of chicken went further than either of us intended.

Anywho—I think I mentioned make-up sex was freaking hot. Well, let’s just say hate sex with Aegaeus had been steamy.

Literally.

Yeah. So I know I said after he first merged with Morgana he was all skinny with a shrunken chest, but that’s not how he looked way back when, or now. Whatever body sharing set-up he’d worked out with her had let him fully assume his form, which was basically the little mermaid’s daddy on steroids. His grey hair flowed across his shoulders all Fabio, and his beard was close cut. He was in an inky black tux, and the buttons on his shirt were pearls. Anyways, I smiled at him, and he scowled.

Yup, still hated me. Moving on.

Kyle—no, the All Father—was farther down. He was Baywatch meets GQ amazing with some svelte blonde chippy at his side, the sprite Brennan had mentioned if I had to guess, and most likely the dumb cunt he’d been referring to, though I doubted she was wearing a G-string or anything else resembling panties. Not under that dress. Remember that air ghost with boobs back at the temple? Sprites can turn corporeal if the mood strikes them, but she probably wouldn’t be able to maintain it through dinner without frequent reminders. They weren’t known for their mental prowess. They were known for being wide-eyed, brainless gutter sluts. Figures the All Father would bring one. He knew they made my teeth grind. God, I hated bimbos.

Whatever. They both ignored me, too busy eye-fucking each other.

I ground my teeth.

At the end of the table was the Gwinth. He looked good, but so had crypto when it first came out. His eyes burned gold as they ran over me, and he licked his lips. It made me want to bathe in bleach. Kennet sat at his right hand in a formal kilt. No lie, it was the ugliest plaid I’d ever seen. Mustard yellow, periwinkle, and a weird shade of red that couldn’t make up its mind to go orange or purple. His calves made up for it. They were super impressive in those tight fringed socks.

Brennan pulled out the chair at the end of the table, and I sat, all eyes less two pairs on me.

Well, wasn’t this nice.

I smiled so I wouldn’t scream, and Brennan tapped the side of his glass with a butter knife to get Joanie and Chachi’s attention. Everyone else was already rapt. Some of them disturbingly so.

“I appreciate all of you bringing your candidates for representation.” Brennan glared at the All Father, and he didn’t seem to notice, still intent on that sprite. Was he trying to make me jealous? What? No, it wasn’t working; it was just rude.

The imps came in with salads. It was one of my favorites. Hearts of palm with supremes of citrus and sliced fennel bulb. I munched as Brennan continued.

“As of midnight tomorrow, none but those formally approved by all parties shall have access to Envy. We’re in agreement that the rota will run from sunrise to sunset—”

“I’m not getting up at sunrise.”

“—until a consort is chosen. The proscribed hours are traditional, Lovely.”

“I don’t care.” I batted my lashes at him. If I had to play along with this crap, I sure as hell wasn’t doing it at the ass-crack of dawn. “Ten to ten.”

“That cuts into my hunting time,” the Gwinth said.

I rolled my eyes. “Boo-freaking-hoo. Being dead will cut into it more. Have fun with that. I agreed to let you court me, not rearrange my schedule to suit yours. Take it or leave it.”

His eyes glinted. “Oh, I firmly intend to take it.”

Asshole.