Brody’s grin gets even more sheepish. “Sorry, Sheriff, Jax said it was urgent.”
Otis grunts, “Put it back in its fucking case. And if it gets out again without my permission, the lock box code will be changed—and you won’t know it.”
As Brody grabs the cape, the material stiffens for a moment and lets out a couple of sparks, almost like a protest, before it drapes limply over his arm. “Did you bring Clem to show her around?” Brody asks.
“Yes, she’s curious about our history. Is Silas here?”
“Sure, out back in his office.”
“We’ll wait for you,” Otis says. “Just lock that thing up and I’ll breathe easy.”
“Sure, boss.” Brody heads into a small room behind reception with the cape over one arm.
In the meantime, I look around the grand interior. It’s almost palatial, with the rock buttressed by stone edifices, the columns adorned with carved monsters, and an ornamentally painted ceiling that covers the rock roof.
“Wow, this is amazing. Did monsters do all this?”
“Yes, we have master crafts folk. And architects. It was us that designed the domes above ground.”
“Wha— really!”
Otis nods. “In the early days, when we were still on good terms with humans. Silas will explain.”
Brody, having locked away the cape, joins us. “What a fascinating place to work,” I say to him.
“Yeah, you kind of take it for granted when you’re here every day. I guess building something this grand was our way of thumbing our noses at the humans. You confine us belowground, we’ll show you bastards by keeping all your artifacts from centuries ago.” Despite his words, there’s no malice in Brody’s voice as he bounds alongside us.
I feel very small between him and Otis, but it’s a good feeling.
We come to an ornately carved door, with numerous species displayed on the wood panels.
I could never have imagined what skilled artisans these monsters are. All I ever knew was that they clawed and bit my brother and covered him in nasty scars. I feel ashamed for viewing them like this. But I didn’t know any better, I remind myself.
You also didn’t know how sexy they could be.
I glance sideways at Otis, who is already knocking at the door with a big green fist.
After a moment, a voice says, “Come in.”
We enter and there’s a tall man with the most amazing raven black hair, wearing glasses and bent over a table, brushing at a pot with a little implement. He’s lean and fit looking, dressed all in black with an aquiline nose and pale blue eyes.
He stands, and strolls over, then reaches out… oh—a claw…
“This is Silas.” Otis glances at me, sees me staring at the claw.
“He’s a raven shifter, Clem,” he says quietly.
“Ah—hi,” I say, blushing with embarrassment, feeling like I’ve made an unwitting faux pas.
Silas takes my hand in his claw. It feels… interesting, but not at all unpleasant.
As we shake hands, his gaze peruses me shrewdly over his glasses, like he’s evaluating me.
“Good to meet you, Clem, we’ve all been looking forward to your arrival.”
My eyes widen. “You knew, too?”
“Jax plays poker with us on Friday nights,” Brody explains. “He told us he was planning to bring you here.”
