“Good book. Thought I’d never find a copy. It was in the bedside drawers.”
Thievery had become a virtue. She rather liked that. People adapting to circumstances was better than waiting to be squashed by the boogie man.
She stood and stomped the heels into place. “What do you plan on telling them?”
“Enough to convince them you might be useful. Nothing that will make you sound unsafe, if possible. Except…” He shook his head slightly. “You’re still going to be too strange. You have to be good, okay? Follow my lead, whatever it is. Trust me.”
That left a lot of vagueness. “Sure.”
Strange? Her? Among this horde of beastlike men? Did he not see how they would look to her, or to anyone not of them?
“I can see you’re already planning on taunting their dicks. Just keep it to that.” He opened the door for her.
She almost snorted. The man had a sense of humor. Always a good sign.
Her happiness lasted until he led her into the boardroom where she hit a wall of testosterone. The euphoria died. Here was a room full of beasters sitting around a long table that stretched most of the length of the room with the head being at the far end. They were all studying her and Vargr, but mostly her. Ten males.
Where were the female beasters he’d spoken of?
Where had her bravado gone? She suddenly wanted to shrink and hide under the table. Maybe it was the nanites making her crazy brave?
The beasters nodded at Vargr. Then their eyes were on her again. Was she truly such a phenomenon?
Boaz stood, his chair scraping back, and she realized they’d brought in sturdier chairs than the usual. “Tell us about her, Vargr.”
“Sit here.” He pulled out the chair near them. It faced Boaz where he presided at the top of the table.
Feeling as if this was more a trial than a council meeting, she did so.
She sat and primly kept her hands on her lap, primly set her lips in a straight line. Not so primly she assessed them one by one, stifling her new fears.Follow my lead,he’d said.Fine.
“I will tell her who you are, first. It is polite to do so.”
He ruffled her hair lightly, squeezed her nape, which made her want to turn and bury herself in his arms. She frowned and clutched her fingers. Her own body betrayed her.
“They can be assholes, Cyn, just ignore them if they are.”
A few laughed, and the tension lessened.
He began to run through names, and she tried to remember who was who, to make mental notes
There was…
Boaz, of course. Bald, scaled, with small horns.
To his left was Thad, shortest beaster she’d seen. Thick hair, wavy brown—actual human hair. Enormous arms with the motes arranged in blue stripes. A voice deep enough to rattle the spoons that lay before him. He was a weaponsmith who could pull apart anything and put it back together.
“Mostly put them back together the right way up,” Vargr said. That brought laughs.
Next to Thad was Orm. Slender and tall for a beaster. The blue on Orm whirled and danced on his eyes and hands. His straight-ish hair would beat Medusa’s serpents for liveliness. It was almost entirely blue.
When Orm’s eyes met hers, she swore she heard whispers, overlapping whispers.
Orm had tamed a nanodog he called Toother, which was large enough to ride, and while Vargr was off scouting, he’d succeeded in doing so—riding it. That fucking big?
Vargr leaned down to whisper: “I told you there were monsters. At the very end, in desperation, it’s rumored nanites were given to more than humans, even more than dogs.”
“Shite,” she whispered back.
