Nicole Peeler - [Jane True 01] (29 page)

“No,” Ryu said, his eyes surreptitiously still roving around the room as
he patently overacted engaging in conversation with me. He was really scanning
the crowd, looking for someone. “Giants are extinct. They were killed off by
humans, believe it or not.” He nodded when I made a “huh?” face. “Giants traded
all of their offensive powers for their huge size and a few strong defensive
shields to block elemental attacks. They never thought they’d have to contend
with teeny-tiny spears. Early hominids hunted giants as they later did
mammoths.” He shook his head, sadly. “It was a lesson for us all.”

“So, what are those big guard thingies?” I prompted him. They were
enormous and sort of
knotty
. If I hadn’t already met a dryad and
discovered her to be almost human outside of her strange suppleness, I would
have thought that the guards were tree spirits. But on further consideration,
maybe they were more knobbly than knotty. They were fleshy and incredibly
ugly—kind of the way I would imagine a troll to be.

Careful, Jane
, I thought.
Or you’ll offend an actual
troll. They’re bound to be here, somewhere
.

“Spriggans,” Ryu informed me. “They’re mercenaries, really. But some are
loyal to the Alfar—or so they claim. They’re rumored to be the only surviving
progeny of giants, but I think that’s just PR. Oh, and watch your handbag and
jewelry around them. They’re compulsive thieves, like magpies. Only spriggans
will chop your head off if you try to get your stuff back. Whereas magpies just
squawk.”

I giggled, but pressed on. “Are there any trolls?”

“Nah, they stick to their caves, luckily. Since they bathe in their own
feces.”

I gave Ryu a horrified look, and it was his turn to giggle, only his
giggle sounded like a Pomeranian choking. Which only set me off again.

When we’d composed ourselves, he turned to me and ran his hands over my
hips, smoothing down my dress. He took a moment to fidget with the front of my
wrap, sneaking a caress of my breasts. I leaned into his touch and was rewarded
with a little fang. Ryu came toward me, not kissing me, just pressing his
forehead against mine and taking a deep breath. Then he straightened, and I
could tell he was preparing to move.

“Are you ready to mingle?” he asked.

“No,” I said, completely serious.

“Good. Just follow me and do what I do. And no shaking hands. Don’t
touch
anybody
unless I say it’s okay.”

I grimaced internally. I was more than happy remaining on the periphery
of the great hall, but Ryu was not a peripheral sort of guy. Slipping my arm
through his, he led me into the room, exchanging greetings with various creatures
as we passed.

The good thing about moving forward was that now I could see we were
heading toward another set of doors on the opposite side of the hall, through
which I caught a glimpse of heavily laden dining tables. My stomach had long
since resorted to a quiet war of attrition, eating away at itself rather
painfully, but it wakened with a new fury when I caught a glimpse of the food.

Dinner, however, would have to wait. Ryu was walking across the room at
a very stately place, exchanging greetings with various beings. They all
greeted him using the full title with which he’d been introduced. I wondered if
he used baobhan sith all the time as his last name, and I asked as much when I
had the chance.

“No. For formal identification we go by our first name and our faction.
I don’t mind being called a vampire, but it pisses some of us off. As for last
names, we don’t use them, usually. For those of us who live among humans, like
I said, we have made-up ones. Goblins have gotten rather attached to theirs since
it makes filing easier. But otherwise we just use our factions.” He thought for
a moment. “Last names are a very human thing, when you think about it. They
imply possession, ownership, property rights, all of that. We don’t own each
other, even when we’re bonded, nor do we own our children if we’re lucky enough
to have any. And in our world, if you can’t defend what is yours, someone takes
it from you.” He shrugged, a
c’est la vie
sort of gesture.

I frowned, again struck by the paradoxes of his society. On the one
hand, there were aspects of this world that I was coming to admire. There was
an openness, a lack of embarrassment or
amour propre,
that I
appreciated. But there was this constant undertone of brutality that made me
shudder to contemplate.

As if humans are really any different.Nasty, brutish, short, and all
that jazz
, I thought.

But at least we try,
I argued with myself.

Who tries? You try, your dad tries, average people try. And for their
attempts at goodness, average people are mugged by strangers, molested by
predatory uncles, massacred by their own governments. At least here there’s no
pretense.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn’t realize Ryu had
introduced me to somebody until he covertly elbowed me in the ribs. I looked up
to see this absolutely gorgeous being in front of me. He reminded me of David
Bowie in his Ziggy Stardust days: slender and androgynous. An enormous, fiery
coiffure swept up to a point about a foot and a half above his head, and he was
clad in what looked like flames. His eyes were auburn and slitted like a cat’s.
He was beautiful, and I reached out a hand without even thinking.

Ryu grabbed my wrist with a hiss, and I saw a look of genuine fear on
his face. The being had sprung back, out of my reach, and I blinked.
Oh
yeah,
I remembered,
I’m not supposed to touch
. And then I realized
why.

The hair that looked so fiery and the clothing that looked like flames
were actually just that—the being was swathed in a molten sheath of fire.

“Chester is an ifrit, darling.” Ryu’s voice was calm despite the scare
I’d given him. “He’s a fire elemental. No handshakes allowed.”

The being gave me a wry smile. “More’s the pity,” he said, looking me up
and down. I blushed, suddenly shy.

“Yes, well, it was good to see you again, Chester. I hope your stock
portfolio recovers.” Ryu paused, and I could tell he was struggling to contain
something. He lost. “Don’t get burned again,” he quipped, chuckling helplessly.
Both the ifrit and I rolled our eyes, and the being bowed slightly to me and
stalked off.

“I don’t know what’s worse—your joke or the fact that that amazing
creature is named Chester.”

Ryu sighed. “I can’t help it. Ifrits are too easy. And I thought my joke
was on fire.” He chortled, and I just shook my head.

“Right, sorry.” He kissed my palm. “
You
, meanwhile, don’t get to
touch. I like my women like I like my steak—nice and rare. So try not to flambé
yourself this weekend.”

I nodded solemnly, as I caught sight of an adorable fat man. He had a
shaved head and his Buddha-like cheeks were split by an endearing grin. He had
no shirt and was wearing pantaloons and curly-toed shoes. My eyes widened, and
I pointed. Before I could speak, Ryu sighed.

“Yes, that’s a djinn, or a genie. But they’re not what you think.” He
steered me carefully away from the little group clustered around the djinn. I
noticed they were all incubi and succubae. “Wally only grants one kind of wish,
and although that wish does involve some rubbing, it’s not of his lamp. Which
is rumored to be more of the standing floor than the desk variety.”

I grinned. “So the enormous pantaloons—”

“Are as practical as they are fashion forward,” Ryu confirmed.

We were getting close to the doors separating us from the food, and my
stomach urged me on with as much finesse as a jockey whipping his mount through
the final furlongs of the race.

I had crept into the lead, trying to hasten our arrival at the dining
hall, when I felt Ryu halt. I groaned inwardly but turned around, forcing a
cordial smile. That smile was wiped from my face when I saw who had slowed our
progress: the pale creature that had been standing behind the king and queen.
And if I thought he was bad, the being currently lurking behind
him
made
my skin crawl.

Ryu was introducing me, and I only just managed to contain my urge to
step behind him for protection. While the short-haired Alfar wasn’t oozing
contempt as he had been before, I had long experience with interpreting various
gradations of loathing. On a scale of one to ten, what lurked in his eyes was a
definite eight and three-quarters. Maybe a nine.

“Jane, this is Jarl, Orin and Morrigan’s second. Jarl, this is Jane
True.”

“Enchanted,” Jarl said, lying his face off.

Fibber
, I thought. “Likewise,” I said.

My eyes flicked to the creature standing behind Jarl. It wasn’t his
personal style that alarmed me, although that was certainly intended to shock.
He was dressed all in leather and shredded denim, with a towering blue Mohawk.
He also sported a piercing in virtually every available inch of skin. His ears
and eyebrows were lined with them, and he had what appeared to be steel tusks
sprouting from above each lip. His cheeks sported three small spikes apiece,
and there was another line of small spikes dotting his forehead, along with a
very heavy-looking bull ring through his nose. His neck was laced with safety
pins, like the kind worn by the evil guy in
Highlander
. But this dude
wasn’t trying to disguise any scars; he’d just poked dozens of holes in his
neck for the hell of it.

One thing I would have expected to be pierced, yet wasn’t, was the man’s
tongue. But that’s because he didn’t have a human’s tongue—his was that of a
snake, cloven tip and all. I nearly hollered when it flicked out at me.

And yet not even the tongue really bothered me—what got to me were his
eyes. They were
dead
—pale as a corpse’s and equally lifeless. They
flicked over me and I shuddered. Any discomfort or trepidation I’d felt at
seeing the other denizens of the Alfar Court vanished when this thing’s eyes
finally met mine. He didn’t make me nervous, he scared the
shit
out of
me.

I could swear I’ve seen him before
, I thought, my
mind racing. But that was stupid. I’d never fail to recognize somebody as
markedly distinctive as this guy.
He’d stand out, just a bit, in Rockabill
.

Jarl watched me take in his companion, and I saw that he thoroughly
enjoyed the fear I was doubtlessly radiating. Ryu was tense beside me, and I
couldn’t help but take a step closer to him, pressing myself to his side.

“Jimmu,” Jarl said, and I noticed that his voice was high and whiney,
which made me feel slightly less terrified. For about two seconds, until I
realized that “Jimmu” was Mr. Dead Eyes and that Jarl was attempting to
introduce us. Personally, I’d rather be introduced to the four horseman of the
apocalypse, all at once, at a swinger’s party.

“…meet Jane,” Jarl finished, a small smirk playing at the corners of his
lips.

He’s a nasty piece of work
, I observed, as Jimmu glided
forward toward me.

And this one makes Jeffrey Dahmer seem like Mr. Rogers,
my
brain concluded, as Jimmu bowed with a sinuous grace that made him that much
creepier.

“Jimmu likes nothing better than to meet halflings,” Jarl droned. “Don’t
you Jimmu?” Jimmu blinked lethargically and Jarl chuckled, running a hand over
Jimmu’s scalp under where the thick Mohawk began. I felt my stomach flip-flop,
so freaked out that it forgot to be hungry.

Ryu put a protective arm about my shoulder. “Well, it’s always a
pleasure, Jarl,” he said, briskly. “But if you’ll excuse us…” Ryu inclined his
head toward the pair, and steered me away. I looked back over my shoulder, a
choice I quickly regretted. Jarl was whispering something into Jimmu’s ear,
while the latter’s eyes finally exhibited some emotion. The emotion was pure,
unadulterated hatred. I quickened my pace, whipping my head around to stare
sternly ahead.

“What was that
thing
?” I hissed, when we were safely through the
dining hall doors.

“Which thing?” Ryu asked balefully. “ ‘Thing’ accurately describes
either of that pair.”

I shuddered, starting to tremble as my brain replayed the look Jimmu had
given me. He made Stuart look like the president of my fan club.

“Either, both, whichever,” I babbled.

Ryu chafed his hands up and down my upper arms, as if to bolster my
strength. “Jimmu is a naga; they’re two-formeds. Their second form is,
appropriately enough, a serpent.” I nodded—that made sense. “Jarl raised Jimmu
and his nestmates from the egg.” I pulled a face, but Ryu was clearly not
joking. “Jimmu was the first to hatch, so he’s the strongest as well as the
most bonded to Jarl. Nagas are like really deadly chickens—they bond to the
first person they see when they emerge from their eggs. Anyway, Jarl claims to
love his nagas like a father, but they’re really his puppets. They do whatever
he commands.” Ryu’s voice was grim.

“As for Jarl, he is, as I said, Orin and Morrigan’s second-in-command.
He is Orin’s brother—older by a few hundred years but less potent in strength.”