Tuggle the hobgoblin, and the myriad other instances where members of the eldritch community had violated mundane laws. Sure, there were reports in the X-Files, but that wasn’t exactly what I needed. “You know what I should do?” I said, thinking aloud. “I should create a central database with information on the entire eldritch population of Pemkowet, or at least as much as I can gather.” Lurine sipped her Bellini without comment and I began to second-guess myself. “You don’t think it’s a good idea?”
“No.” She took off her sunglasses. “I do, actually. It’s just a measure of how quickly the world is changing, and how much it has changed in the past century.” She smiled again, but it was a wistful smile. “I’ve been the subject of myths, legends, and poems. I’ve never been an entry in a database.”
“I didn’t mean you!” I said quickly.
Lurine cocked her head at me, and I fell silent. Of course it would have to contain an entry on Lurine, and Cody, too, and all the rest of his clan, including his two rambunctious nephews. Stefan and all his ghouls. And Mrs. Browne from the bakery, and Gus the ogre, and any other members of the eldritch community I considered friends. Me, too, for that matter.
“Maybe it’s a bad idea,” I said.
“No,” Lurine said quietly. “It’s not. It’s an idea of its time, that’s all. It would help you do the job Hel appointed you to. And that’s important, Daisy. All of this . . .” She made a gesture that somehow included not only the mansion and the surrounding trees, the satyr skimming the pool, and Lake Michigan in the distance, but all of Pemkowet. “It’s a lot more fragile than it looks.”
“I know,” I murmured. Things had gotten ugly with the Vanderhei case earlier this summer, reminding me just how delicate a balance existed between the eldritch and the mundane, and how the latter far, far outnumbered the former.
“So!” Lurine tilted her champagne glass and drained the remainder of her Bellini. “Problem solved. No more unplanned rutting satyr orgies. Henceforth, they will be anticipated, and appropriate safety precautions will be taken to protect the mundanes.” A mischievous sparkle returned to her blue eyes. “Now I’m going for a swim, and you’re going to tell me what’s really bothering you.”
I made a noncommittal noise. Ignoring me, Lurine rose and stripped off her bikini before diving into the pool.
The shift into her true form was spectacular and instantaneous. It would probably look incredibly cool in slow-motion photography, but in real time it flowed so swiftly that the naked eye couldn’t quite follow it. Lurine’s human figure cleaved the water and before the ripples could begin to spread, the lamia’s undulating coils filled the pool, shimmering blue and green in the sunlit water, crimson spots scintillating. She swam the length of the pool and back underwater, diving below and above the serpentine coils of her own lower half in a complex, intertwining ballet.
If you’re thinking it would be one of the most beautiful, surreal, and terrifying sights ever, you’d pretty much be right.
Lurine surfaced at the far end of the pool, water streaming over her bare shoulders. Her tail snaked out with nonchalant grace to snag an inflatable lounge chair and drag it into the pool. Nico the satyr watched with obvious approval, the front of his board shorts stirring visibly. “Hmm.” She eyed him. “Nicodemus, why don’t you get us fresh Bellinis and go prune some trees.”
“Yes, kyria.” He sounded downcast, but he went.
“Now—” Slinging her arms along the edge of the pool, Lurine flicked her tail toward me, lightning-quick. I barely had time to yelp in surprise before her slick, muscular coils wrapped around my waist, plucking me from my poolside lounge chair and depositing me unceremoniously atop its floating equivalent, where I floundered in an effort to get my balance. At least it gave me the chance to conceal the disconcerting effect Lurine’s stunt had on me—not that she didn’t know anyway. “What’s on your mind, baby girl?”
Two months ago, I’d poured out a tale of woe regarding my crush on Cody and his possible interest in my best friend, Jen. Now, feeling more than a little silly, I updated Lurine on the latest regarding Sinclair.
“A secret twin sister!” she said with relish when I finished. “That’s straight out of a soap opera.”
I smiled reluctantly. “I know. So what do you think?”
Lurine reclined against the wall of the pool, her coils stirring