“I’ve seen your real form, Xtelle.”
She finished the turn so she was facing me again. “You really haven’t, Delaney. I’ve taken thousands of forms, a million million faces. This form is as real as any other. Sometimes I think it’s nice just to be a pink unicorn for a while, don’t you?”
That sounded dangerously close to real emotion, the sort of weary fatigue I’d heard from gods and immortals. Beings who had been alive long enough that the living of life had become a chore instead of a joy. It was one of the reasons gods and supernaturals liked Ordinary. It was a way to have a fresh start, to be something else for awhile, to be someone else.
But that wasn’t enough for me to let a demon—correction:anotherdemon—into my safe little town.
“You’re going to have to give me more than that. Why now, Xtelle?”
“I’m tired of the everyday of my kind. Torture, trickery, temptation. Boring. But Ordinary? What a shiny little jewel. I want to spend time there. I want to swallow it whole.”
Her hoof came up to her mouth, and her button eyes went moon-wide. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes. Thank you for being honest about wanting to devour my home. My answer is no.”
I unlocked the door behind my back, then held it open for her. “Run along now like a good little unicorn.”
I wiggled my fingers in a tiny wave.
“You are a pain in my neck, Delaney Reed.”
“I have that on a T-shirtanda cup.”
She snorted, which shot pink glitter out her nostrils. The sunglasses had fallen all the way down her nose, so I could see the humor in her eyes.
She might think Ordinary was a fun new place to cause trouble, and she might want to swallow it whole, but it was obvious she had fun bothering me too.
“You are insufferable,” she proclaimed.
“Thank you. Good-bye, Xtelle.”
She tossed her head and pranced toward the door, doing a parade two-step I’d seen at the State Fair horse competitions.
“You. Are. The. Worst,” she said, step-step-stepping. “I. Don’t. Like. You.” Step-step-step-swish.
I laughed, and she neatly butt-checked me as she pranced out the bathroom door and into the carpeted hallway.
For a moment, I kind of wished she weren’t invisible, because she was acting like such a stuck up diva, it was a sight to see.
Then the moment passed, and I angled toward the coffee shop again.
The hiss and gurgle of the espresso machine grinding through orders, and the delicious, rich scent of coffee and caramel, made me pick up my pace.
The coffee shop was small. Even though it was in a casino, they’d tucked it far enough away from the machines and the hubbub that it felt like a nice quiet retreat.
I took my place in line behind two other people who didn’t appear to be together. One was ordering the most complicated cup of tea I’d ever heard of in my life, and the other was tapping his phone with both thumbs.
I scanned the tables. Two young guys who looked like they were between jobs but had the family inheritance to make up for it were arguing over football. One couple in their thirties, both with hair dyed goth black, scanned a screen, laughing.
But it was the single figure who sat in the booth by the window that set off all my Spidey senses.
She was a goddess.
Beautiful too, her hair pulled back in a thick knot, her eyes the color of burnt amber, and her skin a rich brown. She raised one eyebrow at me, and I nodded.
When a god wanted to talk, it was best not to make them wait. I took a step away from the line, but she shook her head and made a little shooing motion. She wanted me to get on with my order before joining her.
So I did. The guy on the phone didn’t even speak to the Barista, Erika, who called him by name, smoothly scanned his screen, and grabbed his cup for his order.
