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The dragon chuffs and smoke pours from its nostrils.
“See? We’ll barbecue a few and make our escape.”
“Is that so?” a smooth, melodic voice asks from behind me.
My heart skips and I whirl around. Prometheus growls and steps in front of me. The trulls are at my side in an instant, wielding tiny, razor-sharp daggers. The woman before me isn’t quite what I was expecting. Her skin isn’t pale and sickly like Edward fromTwilight, instead it’s a rich shade of brown and practically glows with health. She has long braids and a few pieces in the front have pretty golden cuffs. She’s wearing a sheer dress that looks as though it was made of spider silk. She’s gorgeous. But then she smiles, and while there’s not a fang in sight, it’s terrifying. Like the cat finally caught the canary. Her lavender gaze sweeps over our group with cutting precision.
Straightening my shoulders, I pat Prometheus’ neck and step out from behind the dragon and walk straight up to her. I hold out my hand. “I’m Daisy. What’s your name?”
“We do not deign to give you our name,” the woman says, voice like a siren. Before I can even ask whoweis, two women step out from behind her. One with skin as white as snow and the other with skin as dark as the night. Three gorgeous beings. A trio of power.
Crap on a cracker. I’m not dealing with vampires. I’m dealing with the furies themselves.
“I apologize. I meant no offense.” I dip my head in an odd bow-like gesture. For all my regency era books, you’d think I’d have that down. Glancing up through my eyelashes, I give the goddess in the center a sheepish smile and pray she doesn’t kill me for not knowing how to pay my respects. “About what I said—”
“About barbecuing the vampires?” Her gaze flicks behind me. “Strange company you keep, folk.”
“I’m not a folk and these are my friends.” I glance over my shoulder and see Harald halfway to where I am, knife in hand. “Harald,” I warn.
The trull grunts and retreats a few steps. I slide my gaze to Lagertha. She hasn’t moved but the hold on her knife has. It’s perfectly positioned to throw. I give a small shake of my head before turning back to the furies.
“You gave us your back.”
“Technically, I gave you my side…” I trail off when the goddesses squint at me. “Right. Is that another faux pas?”
“Never give an enemy your back, folk.” The goddess in the center steps toward me, and I crane my neck to maintain eye contact. She’s so tall and her lavender irises swirl with wisps of silver.
“I’m not a folk.” I shake my head. “And I truly hope to not be your enemy. I came here to negotiate.”
Her head tips and curiosity flashes in her eyes. “We don’t negotiate.”
“Yes, well,” I lick my lips, suddenly very aware of how close she is and how little I am in comparison. “I have something that might be of interest to you.”
“And what could a folk like you have for us?” she says, lips twitching. She’s trying not to laugh at me.
I may be chronically optimistic, but one thing I hate is when people laugh at me. I tamp down my immediate reaction to lash out. What do the furies want most? Justice. What do they hate most? Unwarranted death.
“Right now, an army of monsters is marching here to fight the vampires. Innocent lives will be lost unless you hear what I have to say and what I’m offering.”
The goddess looks down her nose. “The monsters would never make a folk their queen.”
Taking a deep breath and praying for patience, I smile sweetly at the fury even though I’m feeling more lemon than sugar. “I already told you, I’m not a folk. I’m a human. I’m not from this world.”
“That must be why your aura is strange,” she murmurs to herself then glances at Prometheus. “That’s a baby dragon. Did you steal it?” There’s a violent edge to her question.
“No. Prometheus is… my friend and it thinks I’m its mother. I don’t mean to rush you, but this can’t wait. The monsters are on their way here as we speak, but that’s only because the king made my mate think the vampires had taken me at your request.” I scowl.
“A not-folk with a baby dragon and trulls wander into our yard and demand to be heard?”
“I didn’t know it was your property,” I say quickly. “We meant to land in vampire territory.”
“Technically, every bit of land could be our property.”
“Let’s hear what the folk has to say,” the one on the left says, toying with the end of her hair. “I’m bored and I do love a good story.”
The one in the middle arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “What is it you think we might want to hear?”
The one on the right, the deathly pale one, begins to circle us. Lagertha and Harald keep their eyes on her, and I turn a little to keep her in my sights. They’re definitely the cats and we’re 100% the canaries. The only question is will they keep us alive long enough to get the justice they crave.
