the weirdness of handling the Cormier situation, life resumed normalcy. I was still unnaturally tired, still engaged, and still not getting any loving.
What passed for normalcy in my life was overrated.
The work part, at least, was a welcome lull. This was an annual tradition. I tended to think of it as the pre-holiday calm. By January, it would be hectic. Mid-Winter was always when I had the most downtime, but during the end of year holiday people would start deciding death was overrated and hunting down draugr for a shot at eternal life on Earth instead of natural deaths. I wasn’t sure if it was depression, greed, or sentimental holiday moods.
Mine was an odd job, but I didn’t ever want to give it up. I wasn’t immune to draugr venom, but I was stronger than humans and could flow as fast as the draugr could. I had advantages, and I felt duty-bound to make use of them.
Tonight, I was enjoying a night out with my closest friends. Draugr weren’t all trapped by sunlight, but the newly-infected, bite-first-think-never ones were. I tended to think that was a good excuse to stay in the bar until dawn’s light.
“Yule? Chanukah? Christmas?” Sera was holding up pictures of formal dresses. “Did you discuss it? Which are you celebrating in Elphame? I know Mama Lauren has usually had dibs on Chanukah. Do we call one? Or do we wait on Eli?”
Jesse and Christy said nothing. They exchange a look that spoke volumes. No one expected my first holiday season as the future queen of Elphame to go smoothly.
Running away to Elphame as if I could be fae wasn’t an option for more reasons than just my issues with Eli—which was why I was livid when I received a beautiful handwritten summons to celebrate “the holiday” with the king of the faeries. Eli’s uncle seemed to think there was one holiday. As a Jewish witch with Christian friends, I could guarantee that there were at least three of them on my social schedule.
The four of us were enjoying a night off at Eli’s bar, the oddly named Bill’s Tavern. No one called Bill had ever owned or been employed here, but whenever I asked “who is Bill,” Eli simply laughed.
Fae humor confused me sometimes.
I still had my weapons, but that was like saying I still had on trousers. It would be weird and uncomfortable to go out for the night without them. One sword, two guns, and a dagger if I needed to draw my blood. It might seem odd, but my blood was my best weapon. One loyal army of the dead trumped most conventional weapons.
Christy, whose job was mostly pool-hustling—often here—wasn’t working tonight either. She and Jesse were sort of hand holding, but not being all couple-y in an obnoxious way. Sera was scheduling our lives. It was her thing. One of them, at least. She was why we were out tonight, too. She was our glue.
“I have received a summons from the king,” I said.
“You’ll need another dress,” Sera said, as if dresses were the priority not the fact that some old dude had summoned me like I was his subject.
“That’s what you got out of this?” I met Sera’s gaze.
“Maybe we should get a couple of them.”
“Or not,” Jesse muttered.
“She cannot go before the king of Elphame in jeans.” Sera gave us all a look, one that meant she was debating smacking one of us upside our heads. “Which holiday did he invite you for?”
“The holiday, as if there is only one.” I was starting a list of grievances against the faery king—starting with the fact that he insisted on referring to me as “death” or “death maiden” and rolling right up to the moment. Honestly, the only thing I liked about him was his nephew, Eli.
Sera sighed.
In a game of chess, she’d be the king—maybe the queen. It varied. Christy was a bishop, influential and strong. She was impervious to Sera’s quelling look and spoke her mind. Jesse was the Rook, the castle. He was home. Steady in whatever way we needed. And I was either a knight or a pawn, depending on the moment. I’d like to be a knight, but lately I felt like I was being played.
I just couldn’t decide whether the player was someone I knew already or not.
I looked up and met Eli’s gaze. If you asked him, he’d claim that he wasn’t on the chess board at all. I had trouble believing that a faery