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I shook my head. "Listen, Chase, there's a difference between being an operative and being a warrior. Most of the agents I know take their job seriously, but they—we—aren't soldiers. And we've been hampered by HQ. My father is with the Guard. He sees the apathy going on. He was very proud of us for following him into service, but even he admits, Otherworld isn't ready to take on Shadow Wing's armies. Neither is Earth, and you'd better trust me on that. The demons could eat your tanks and guns and not even burp. There are hordes of them, Chase. Hordes."
Chase eyed me silently, sipping his drink. After a moment, he said, "What can we do? If everything you say is true, then both our worlds are in danger."
I frowned, thinking about what Trillian had said. "It gets worse. If what our sources tell us is true, OIA may not be helping us out much in a while. Something's going on back home, and I'd like to know what." My stomach rumbled.
Breakfast felt a million miles away. "I'll be back in a second."
I grabbed my purse and poked around the cold case, trying to figure out what I wanted to eat. A tuna sandwich and a peppermint fudge bar looked good to go. As I paid for my food, two women in their mid-fifties were staring at me, their jaws agape in surprise. I flashed them an absent smile and headed back to our table. As I took my seat, Chase was shaking his head. "What? You don't like tuna or something?"
"You and Delilah eat like you're starving. Don't they feed you in OW?" He winked, and I realized he was teasing me.
"Our metabolisms are higher than yours, and we need more food," I said, stuffing my face with a bite of the sandwich. I rolled my eyes happily—tuna was as good as naori fish back in OW, though the mercury content worried me a little. But our healers could clear the metal out of us, so I wasn't too worried.
"A lot of women here would love to trade places with you," he said.
"If they'd move around a little more and quit obsessing, they'd be fine. Why you FBHs think everybody should look the same is beyond me. Faeries come in all shapes and sizes and colors, and for us, beauty is more than visual. I can't believe how unhappy most of your females are. It's sad." I took another bite of sandwich and then a swig of mocha to wash it down.
Chase shrugged. "We've got a lot of problems, that's for sure, but I doubt if they're limited to Earthside. Anyway, back to the subject at hand, tell me more about the demons. How do they fit in with Otherworld, and what are they like?"
I blinked. I hadn't expected to be teaching a course in Demonology 101, but it made sense. Chase was on our side, and he deserved to know what he was up against. Though when he found out just what he was facing, he might decide to run for the hills. Clearing my throat, I began.
"Okay, first, there are three categories of demons, and within those three categories, there are numerous varieties. First, you have the Greater Demonkin, like Shadow Wing. They are the biggest of the bad, and killing one is beyond any of our hopes, not without a lot of backup from wizards and sorceresses. Second, we have the Lesser Demonkin. This includes our buddies we're chasing now: creatures like the harpy and Bad Ass Luke. They all inhabit the Subterranean Realms, and that's where they're born. The third category are the minor demons; some aren't even that demonic. We're talking imps and vampires and the like. They may—or may not—live in the Sub Realms."
"Then your sister's considered a demon because she's a vampire?" Chase asked, glancing nervously over his shoulder.
I laughed. "Don't worry, she can't hear you, and I won't tell her you asked. But yes, technically Menolly is classified as a demon now. But you know—as I said before, definitions can be tricky. Not all of the minor demons are evil. Some are merely mischievous, and not all of the Faeries and humans are good." The last thing I needed was to make Chase even more afraid of my sister.
He surprised me though. "Well, Menolly scares the shit out of me, but I don't consider her evil."
I smiled at him, grateful. "Thanks. She's nothing to worry about, not in comparison to the Greater and Lesser Demons. But the truth is, most Demonkin tend to be far stronger than humans and have a great deal of destructive magic at their disposal. They're a lot more dangerous than you can imagine. Think fireballs and lightning strikes and poison gas from out of their mouths."
"I see your point," Chase said, reaching over to pick at the half sandwich I'd left on my plate. "You going to eat that?"
With a snort, I pushed the saucer over to his side of the table. "Be my guest."
He laughed. "Oh, man, life was so much simpler before you people decided to put in an appearance. I'm getting another cup of coffee. Want anything else?" he asked, pulling out his wallet.
"Yeah," I said. "Get me another mocha. Triple caramel. Iced this time. And a croissant."
"You sure? That much caffeine's going to send you into overdrive."
"Save the commentary and get me my drink." I waved him away, and he shrugged and headed up to the counter. As he left, the two women who had been staring at me crossed over to our table.
"We don't mean to interrupt," the taller one said, her blue eyes gleaming. Excitement rolled off her like a wave of perfume. "My friend Linda and I were wondering, are you from Otherworld?" She held up a camera and pointed to a button on her shirt. The disk had a dark navy background with the letters FWC emblazoned in silver on it, and little sparkles of color encircling the logo.
Oh great, more Faerie Watchers, though they looked like they were from out of town. I hadn't seen them with Erin Mathews's group before. I gazed at the women. They looked so hopeful that I couldn't disappoint them.
"Yes, I'm from Otherworld. I own the Indigo Crescent here in town."
"I told you, Elizabeth! I knew it—her eyes, you can see the stars in her eyes." Linda, the shorter woman, beamed.
"I thought they might be colored contacts," Elizabeth said, more to Linda than to me. "She doesn't have the same look that the one we met in San Francisco had. But then, I suppose they don't all look alike."
A little tired of being talked over as if I wasn't there, I spoke up. "There are many variations of race and species who live in Otherworld, ladies. We don't come from a cookie cutter mold."
Linda's cheeks flushed crimson. "I'm so sorry, we didn't mean any disrespect. We're from a small town in Iowa, and we're up here to visit a friend. We heard there were quite a few Faeries living in Seattle and were so excited to think we might actually meet a real live one. Where we come from, there aren't many foreigners. A few blacks, but no aliens, so we don't really know your customs."
She babbled on for a few minutes before I stopped her with a raised hand. The taller one—Elizabeth—looked put out, but said nothing. Apparently she'd read the warnings that the Sidhe were unpredictable, because she bit her tongue and bit it good.
