“I look exquisite,” he huffs. “What is the problem?”
“Okay, you know what…” I shake my head. “We can work on some candids later. For now, just fill out your bio. Likes, dislikes, and stuff.”
“Understood. Though, I don’t know why we are bothering.” He holds the phone close to his face as he types out what appearsto be a novel about himself. “It seems pointless to search for a match when the most beautiful woman in the realms is seated across from me.”
“Considering Idon’t love you, I think you maybe want to up your standards.” I reach out my hand and he hands my phone back to me. My eyes flick over the bio and he’sgotto be kidding.
“What is wrong with what I’ve written?” he says, and I have to assume the disappointment is showing on my face.
“Vampire King looking for queen to share his throne.” I groan, tossing the phone behind me. Magnus effortlessly catches it and tosses it back to me. Considering it’s a piece of equipment I desperately need, I decide against any further rounds of catch. He hasn’t given me one moment unsupervised with the device, but he’s got to let his guard down sooner or later. As soon as he does, this is my ticket to getting a hold of someone back home.
“It took youthat longto type this?” I gasp. Crossing my arms, I wonder if I can slip the phone into my pocket unnoticed. We’re never going to get anywhere if he isn’t going to take this seriously. “Plus, don’t you want someone who doesn’t care about your social standing—to fall in love with the real you and whatnot?”
“I typed out what will give us the fastest results,” he says thoughtfully. “Would you like me to add an astrological sign, my sweet? It seems everyone has something along the lines of that… or a random assortment of letters. What is an INFJ?”
“You’re clearly a Scorpio andsonot an INFJ,” I grumble, reaching for the keychain that’s still safely hidden in my pocket to ground myself.
“As far as an astrological sign, I am a Leo, and the other, perhaps we’ll leave it out.” That also … checks out. We still need more than that to work with. How am I supposed to explain this to him?
“Okay, look…” I decide to just lay it all out. “With editing apps and makeup, a pretty face isn’t enough to attract a real connection. You’re way too stiff and there’s nothing conversational here.”
“You just called me pretty.” His smile is absolutely devious, and I wish he would stop getting distracted.
“For someone else,” I counter as damage control. “You need to write a bio that makes someone else want to strike up a conversation with you! This whole thing is giving AI bot energy, and no, I’m not going to explain what that means.”
He scoffs and snatches the phone back, scrolling while looking long and hard at the screen.
“We will make conversation when we meet. You don’t expect me to court someone using this device, do you?” He gapes, blinking his purple eyes as he stares into the light of the screen.
“That is exactly what you do—and literallyno oneis going to take this profile seriously!” I try to explain. “First off, most mortals don’t think vampires exist. You need to dive deep!”
“Then fix it!” he grumbles. My phone is thrown back to me like a baseball—and I’m not a good catch. “Or marry me; you already know I would prefer the latter.”
“Literally … you’re impossible.” I snatch the phone off the floor and thank the stars for my industrial-strength protective case. I walk toward the window—which I cannot squeeze out of no matter how hard I tryand I have.
It’s unsettling to be in a new place every day. Instead of the forest, we’re surrounded by a lake as black as the night. The lack of sun makes it impossible to figure out how much time has passed. Working on Magnus’s profile has felt like an eternity in the worst possible way.
“Okay, okay, let’s slow this down. What kind of stuff do youactuallylike?”
He freezes.
“Well, I am accomplished in all things from instrumentation to language, if you would care for a demonstration I can certainly…”
Not an answer.
“But what do you likedoing?” I squint at the screen. “Because I’m not seeing anything of value written here, and if you could work in a few details—”
“If I list out everything I am skilled in, we will run out of space.” I frown at the obvious unauthenticity. “Surely a human will be impressed by the idea of royalty?”
“Okay, sure, but you’re more than your job title,” I try to explain. “It’s like someone saying,‘I’m a lawyer looking for a girlfriend.’It doesn’t tell you anything about them except for how they make money.”
“But people love money,” he says, and this time it’s not sly, it’s earnest. The sad fact is I don’t know him well enough to assure him it’s not the most appealing thing about him.
“You aresomissing the point.” I groan.
“Then explain it better.” He pouts, crossing his arms.I wouldn’t need to explain it if you would just listen.
“Okay, Mr. Moody,” I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose in the same way Moth and his family do when they’re frustrated, “let’s move past what your skills are, and just tell me about your favorite things.”
