Page 3 of Angels Don’t Date

He didn’t blink at me, but it seemed that his glower darkened. Fun guy.

I turned back to Herald. “What brings you to Apple City?” I asked, cocking my head and ignoring the kittens clawing. They’d settle down once they’d eaten. Maybe. I should ask my friend SunRae what I should do with them. She had the best platform, all about baking delicacies for pets. She made horse biscuits that were the prettiest things, with pressed edible flowers in the tops.

“Business as well as pleasure,” he said with that same subtle smile. “And you? What brought you out of the safety of the Scholar’s laboratory?”

“Monterose Fellicci. He’s the tenor in the opera, as I’m sure you know. Why would you come to an opera if you didn’t like music? Anyway, I wanted to do a little duet with him after the show. I sent him messages on his social media accounts, but never responds to those kinds of things.”

He blinked at me, an intentional movement of his dead eyes that gave me shivers. “How old are you, Katriana?”

“It’s just Katrina these days. I’m almost fifty.”

He nodded slightly. “How old does that translate in human years for a born vampire? Ten? Twenty?”

I hesitated. This was where he insinuated that I was too immature and naîve to be trusted to live on my own. “I’m not sure, exactly. In my magic, I’m fairly well-developed, but of course I would be, raised by the Scholar. And I have most common languages down as well as the sciences.” Even though I hated them. Not that I’d ever tell my guardian that I wasn’t enamored with his favorite topics, but there was a desperate shortage of peachy pink and adorableness in his world.

He blinked again. “You seem old enough to marry.”

I blinked back. “Oh. I’d probably have to date someone first.” And where in the world had that come from? I was old enough to marry? Why in the world would my father’s herald say something that random and also creepy?

One side of his mouth tightened. “Dating to marry? That’s a peculiar notion.”

Notion? He must be living in the dark ages. “It’s all the rage in these modern times. How old are you, Herald?”

He gave me a sharp smile. “Not old enough to know better. May I give you some advice?”

I hesitated because what kind of advice could an old fashioned vampire give me? But refusing would be rude, so I nodded and leaned towards him while he leaned closer until our noses almost brushed.

His voice was low and deadly dangerous. “Marry someone who can protect you from the King.”

I blinked at him and nodded. Then I realized what he’d said and shook my head, pulling away. Vampires could manipulate you into doing almost anything if you looked at them too long. “I’m not going to get married before I’ve gotten a cottage and a stove. Also, all the men I know are infernal creatures who work for the Scholar. That means that they usually smell like stale blood or even worse things, and care only for dead languages or scientific processes. I’ve tried, but I’m not a scientist or a scholar. How can I marry one?” Hopefully he didn’t repeat my sentiments to the Scholar, but as far as I could tell, the Scholar didn’t waste his time with any of my father’s vassals.

Herald leaned back and studied me. “Quite the tangle.”

“Not really. Perhaps I’ll never marry. I’ll have cats instead.” I smiled down at the cute orange one who gazed up at me with those pretty sunburst eyes. So adorable. I could just sit here and stare at kittens for the rest of my life.

“But if you can’t defend yourself from a mostly harmless old harpy, how can you defend yourself from the Vampire King and his enemies?” Herald murmured while the musicians started playing and the audience quieted.

It’s not that I couldn’t defend myself from an attack, but we were in an opera house, and you didn’t just make a mess in public places. I’d been raised better than that. But defending myself against the Vampire King… It would be pointless to try. I frowned at Herald. “Now you’re saying that the Vampire King is a threat? He gave me to the Scholar to raise because he didn’t want me.” That still stung. My poor mother, dead after living so long in an insane asylum, and my father who threw me away. It was worse than being an orphan. “As for his enemies, being the Scholar’s ward has protected me well enough so far. And I am far from defenseless.” I raised my chin.

His smile was wry, his lips too red, his skin too pale. It’s like he powdered to be even paler than he would be naturally. “Ah, but that was before you declared yourself his daughter, a princess in front of so many witnesses, many of whom recorded the event.”

I’d been online for years with no problems. He wasn’t aware of how hard it was to gain traction in a digital world. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I leaned towards the stage as the performance started, clapping loudly for Fellicci as he walked out and bowed with a flourish of his hand.

I’m sure the performance was epic, but between feeding the kittens hotdogs, trying not to move so my dress wouldn’t be too loud and distract everyone, and Herald’s not-so-subtle threat about my father and his enemies, I had a hard time appreciating the marvelous performance. Still, when he sang that last divine strain, I stood up, clapping awkwardly with one hand and my forearm while the other held kittens.

Now was the truly nerve-wracking part, cornering Monterose backstage and…

Before I’d gotten my kittens together, Monterose Fellicci appeared at our box as if by magic, his ethereal green wings gleaming. He’d had them glamoured during the show so they didn’t interfere with his role as prince charming. They were so lime. And he had a weak chin, but that was a fairy for you. He looked better with his filters and his special effects, but who didn’t?

“A princess requested my presence?” he asked in exaggerated accents, but not the right accent for the part of Italy he was supposed to be from. I wouldn’t speak the language in case he didn’t actually know it. No need to humiliate someone just because they were trying to build a brand.

I beamed at him. “Hi. My handle is pastelprincess137, and I’ve messaged you so many times. I can’t believe I’m really meeting you! It’s such an honor! I don’t suppose…do you think you could…Would you do a little duet with me? Just a few seconds clip, maybe thirty seconds? I was thinking ‘so this is love…’” I hummed a few bars before looking at him hopefully. Was I blushing too hard? Yes. Was I going to pass out from nerves? Maybe.

He looked at Herald, then at the scarred guard, then at me. “Ah, but of course. Classic fairytale prince and princess collaboration. I apologize for not responding to your charming texts. My rep doesn’t always make the best choices.” He stepped forward, took my hand and raised it to his lips while a kitten tumbled down. It would have fallen to the marble floor, except that Monterose caught him. “Do you have a photographer?”

I shook my head, no. “I have a selfie stick.”

“Hm. I’ll have my rep do the honors, and she can text you the clip.”