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CHAPTER 3
“Apackage for Miss Minerva Westwind. I was told to deliver it straight into her hands.” The courier, a troll by the look of his stocky build, even though he still had his bike helmet on, stood at the counter eyeing her closely.
“I am Minerva Westwind,” Min replied.
“ID please.”
“Sure, of course.”
Adina was clearly taking this whole process very seriously. Min ducked behind the counter and took out her purse, then showed her ID card.
The troll grunted. “Sign here.”
She signed the paper he handed her and in return, he handed over the thick envelope.
As he turned to leave, he glanced down the rows of bookshelves that stretched toward the back of the shop. “Got a career section?”
“Absolutely. You’re a troll, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
“There’s a whole shelf devoted to trolls. Why don’t you have a browse?”
He grunted again. “Can’t, too many deliveries. But I’ll come back another day maybe.”
“Please do.”
His taciturn face brightened behind his visor, big yellow troll teeth and tufts of coarse red beard visible as he flashed her a grin. “Cool.”
“And thank you,” she said. “For delivering this.”
He responded with another grunt. She knew most monster kind didn’t take compliments well, but it was important to always acknowledge them. Monsters had spent too long being vilified by humans. Her father had taught her to always go out of her way to make them feel comfortable in the shop. Monsters being allowed to openly read books was something that had only really come about since the Hole In The Wall happened. Before that, they would open the Westerly under cover of darkness to allow monsters to visit in secret.
She watched the troll speed off toward Motham on his bike, then she went and locked the doors, put the back in five minutes sign up and went to her office at the back of the shop. With shaking fingers, she ripped open the envelope and took out the file.
A very swish folder met her eyes.
The first thing she noticed was the name on the front, and the photograph, neatly framed as if in a cameo, with gold filigree around it. Very posh and professional.
PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL
Introducing Mr Ethan Blade
Oh. Gosh—she’d heard of this guy, hadn’t she? Of course she had. Everyone with money in Motham used Blade Wing hover cabs. Then there was Blade Wing light air for short jaunts and Blade Wing jets for longer trips across the mountain (not that she’d ever been, of course). Min peered closer at the photo.
He had a lean strong jaw, neat horns sprouting from the sides of his skull, piercing blue wide-set eyes and a broad brow. His head was covered in neat scales, and he was smiling, showing off a line of perfect white fangs. And going by what she could see of him—it was only a head and shoulders photo—he was of a broad build, with just a hint of his neatly furled wings showing behind his back.
She turned the page and read his profile:
Ethan is Managing Director of Blade Wing Air. The company services all aviation needs in Motham, owns Motham airport, and the police and militia aircraft. He has plans to extend his operations outside of Motham City and thus needs to partner with an eligible human in order to purchase lands in human territory.
Personal history: Single. Ethan’s father died four years ago. Since then, Ethan has been heading up the company. He currently resides in the family home in the salubrious area of Motham Hill with his mother and younger brother.
Mr Blade’s interests include keeping fit, reading and playing the piano.
He describes himself as serious, hard-working, something of a workaholic, conscientious, honest, and family-minded. He likes to look after his health and believes he has a good sense of humor once he is comfortable in a person’s company. Due to his single status, there are no complication or impediments.
Min’s eyes scanned lower and then widened.
