“What is it that you have control over?”
“The sun!” Keary says, and for a split second, a warm, bright yellow glow floods the kitchen as the sun reflects out of his eyes.
“You control the sun?” the human asks, not impressed by Keary’s show of power. “Seriously? You’re the god of the sun?”
“Notthegod. All Ras can control aspects of the sun. We can travel through sunbeams and manipulate the sun’s rays. That kind of thing.”
The human nods, though I’m rather impressed with just how unimpressed he appears. Keary isn’t used to that.
He turns from the stove to look at Drystan. “What kind of god are you?”
Drystan shakes his head. “I’m not a god. I’m a teko.”
Human tilts his head. “An experiment?”
“Yep. First generation. An OG. Number 914.” It’s a joke that the teko use to make light of their existence since they’re not a hybrid bred from the originals. Drystanisan original.
I’m smirking because the human looks far more impressed with this information than he did at the revelation that Keary is a god.
“And you’re part of the divine?”
Drystan shrugs. “I’m considered a soul class.”
The human’s eyes roam over Drystan for a minute as he tries to figure out what that means. Instead of asking, he turns back to the stove.
“And the creep in the other room?”
Drystan and Keary look at me with big smiles. I don’t share their enthusiasm, though I may intentionally stare at the human longer than necessary because I know it makes him uneasy. I need to entertain myself somehow.
“He’s a god, too, though he’s an Ogun.”
“Right. And he controls what?”
Keary hums. “His magic isn’t the same. An Ogun is a Vodun warrior breed, so he’s an unmatched killer.”
I’ve always appreciated Keary’s enthusiasm concerning this. He loves violence and bloodshed.
The human turns with two plates in his hands, handing Drystan and Keary each one. “That’s nice,” he comments. His hand drops to the towel, re-securing it, then grabs a plate from the counter to bring to me. His eyes meet mine, and I can see that he’s not as impressed with my abilities as he is with Drystan’s existence.
I take the plate from him, and he turns without waiting for my thanks. Sometimes, I thank him. Other times, I don’t. Just to gauge his reaction.
I haven’t spent a lot of time with humans. My interactions with humans are with those that live on the bases whereour House—Eriva—lives. But those humans have been with monsters for a long time. They’re human in species, but they’re definitely monstrous. The majority that I know have been with our kind since before the war that destroyed the human population.
“It’s really cool to watch Notto fight,” Drystan says. “He can take down any beast all on his own. Now,that’smagical.”
The pride in Drystan’s voice makes my chest warm.
“If you’re gods, are you really monsters?” the human asks.
“Your definition of a monster isn’t actually what defines a monster,” Keary says. “You think big teeth and dangerous and murderous.”
“You have all those things, don’t you?”
Keary grins, flashing a set of sharp teeth that are rarely there. “Yes, but that’s just a shape. Arguably, humans can have sharp teeth too. They can be both dangerous and murderous. They can torture and kill without reason.” He leans forward. “I lived through the days when humans did those things to monsters solely because they’re different.”
It’s interesting the facts that get lost in the world. This, for example. This human was never told about the human organization that hunted, tortured, experimented on, and brutally killed monsters. We’re not just talking about adult monsters but newborns, infants, and children. Their cruelty knew no bounds, and they did it all with stolen monster magic.
This isn’t something the human knows. Would he even believe the truth?
