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exaggeration. Tim - with his tall, dark, and handsome looks - had taken to impersonating Native Americans (badly) in order to score chicks and make money selling his awful poetry. He rotated through various tribes, and last I knew, he'd been passing himself off as Tlingit, seeing as the locals got a little less pissed off by him donning the clothes of a tribe living hundreds of miles away. He lived in my house rent-free in exchange for cooking and housework, and I was glad to see him dressed in an ordinary jeans and T-shirt ensemble today.
"Are you making enough for two?" I asked, heading straight for the full coffeepot.
"I always make enough for two. But most of it goes to waste." That last part came out as a grumble. He'd once complained about being my "slave" but missed my being around now.
"Messages?"
"Usual place."
When in the Otherworld, I left my cell phone with Tim. It forced him to play secretary, something he resented since I actually already employed one. Indeed, most of the messages he'd scrawled on the refrigerator's white board were from her.
Tue. - 11 AM - Lara: two job offersTue. - 2:30 PM - Lara: one possible client needs ASAP helpTue. - 5:15 PM - Lara: still wants to talk to youTue. - 5:20 PM - Lara: needs you to finish tax paperworkTue. - 10:30 PM - Lara: won't stop callingWed. - 8 AM - Lara: who calls this early?Wed. - 11:15 AM - BitchWed. - 11:30 AM - Sam's Home Improvement: interested in vinyl siding?
I admired his detailed message taking - frustration with Lara aside - but my heart sank when I saw who was conspicuously missing. Every time I came home, I secretly hoped I'd see their names up there. Sometimes, on the sly, my mom would check on me. But my stepdad, Roland? He never called anymore, not after finding out about my allegiance to the Otherworld.
Tim, preoccupied with his cooking, didn't see my face. "I don't get why she keeps calling. She knows you can't get any of her messages. Why does she need more than one? It's not like a billion of them are magically going to get through to you."
"It's just her way," I said. "She's efficient."
"That's not efficient," he declared. "It's borderline neurotic."
I sighed, wondering not for the first time if I should just let messages go to voice mail. Despite having never met, Tim and Lara were mortal phone enemies. Hearing them bitch about each other was wearying. Nonetheless, staring at her string of calls already made me feel tired. I'd once had a brisk trade as a freelance shaman, kicking out ghosts and other annoying supernatural creatures who harassed humans. Now that I moonlighted as a fairy queen, I'd had to become much more selective with clientele. I could no longer keep up with the demand around here and felt bad about that. I suspected Roland was picking up my slack but didn't know for sure.
I waited until after breakfast before dealing with Lara. Pancakes, sausage, and coffee gave me the strength to deal with this latest batch of requests. Undoubtedly seeing my number on her caller ID, Lara didn't bother with formalities when I finally called.
"About time," she exclaimed. "Has he been giving you my messages?"
"He just did. I've been gone for three days. You know you don't need to keep bugging him about it."
"I want to make sure he tells you I called."
"He writes them down, every one. Besides, my phone's log also tells me you've called ... a lot."
"Hmphf." She let it go. "Well, you're getting a lot of requests lately. I've thinned them out, but you've still got to choose."
It was almost February. We weren't near any major sabbats, when paranormal activity always increased. Sometimes, though, it happened for no reason. It figured now would be one of those times - right while I was in the middle of a war. Or, I realized, it might be happening because of that. My identities as queen and shaman were both well known among many creatures. Maybe they hoped they could get away with more while I was distracted. Half seemed to show up for selfish purposes in our world; the other half hoped to forcibly father Storm King's heir on me.
"Okay," I said. "Let's hear the priorities."
"We need to finish your taxes."
"That's not a priority. Keep going."
"Single woman, stalked by a fetch."
"That's serious. I'll have to get on that one."
"Tree elemental. In your neighborhood."
"Yeah, that one's