Misty's Mayhem by Robyn Peterman

Author:Robyn Peterman [Peterman, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robyn Peterman

9

Misty

“Oooookay, I can do this,” I muttered to myself as I crouched low in the bushes and eyed the humans at the open-air dinner buffet. “Since no one told me what to fucking do, I’ll just figure it out by trial and error—hopefully not too many errors. I just hope to hell and seashells I don’t kill anyone. That would not be good PR for our business.”

There were about thirty resort guests milling around, chatting and eating. The festive buffet tables groaned under the weight of delicious food—salads, seafood, grilled veggies and delectable desserts. It made my tummy rumble with hunger. Probably should have eaten first, but today had been a shitshow I would never forget. Eating would have to wait.

Glowing tiki torches and wildly colorful flowers overflowing from seashell encrusted ceramic pots made the early evening scene an island paradise. It was evenly divided as to men and women, which hopefully would make this exercise in bullshit futility easier. However, there was one gay couple that seemed to be having some issues. I’d overheard an argument and it made me sad. Maybe I could shoot their cute asses them and make them happy again.

Happy. What a strange and relative word. I was happy… or I’d always thought I was happy. I had my sisters, the ocean and my resort home. What more did I need? Love was a myth, and for those who bought into it, tragedy was sure to strike at some point. I was surprised Tallulah had succumbed. She’d seen what happened to our mother as clearly as I had. Madison and Ariel were much younger and didn’t really grasp what had occurred. But me? It was seared into my brain. I would never forget. I lived my eternal life so I would never be in my mother’s position. Ever.

“Love stinks. Why would anyone do something that stupid?” I whispered to a little sand crab who was playing on the ground next to me. He was a smart little crustacean. A loner—just like me and better off for it.

Carefully fitting a shimmering golden arrow into the crossbow, I scanned the crowd again. Would my mother approve of what I was doing? Yep. Yep, she would. I could still picture her lovely face in my mind even though she’d left this plane hundreds of years ago. For decades I was furious with her—furious that she would leave us because of him.

“Men are wankers, Dash. Do you like the name Dash?” I asked the crab as he dug an impressive little hole.

He peeked up at me and raised a tiny claw.

“Then Dash it is,” I said with a giggle and then abruptly sobered. My subconscious must be working overtime. Dash. That’s exactly what my father had done. Dashed everywhere, but mostly dashed away from us.

My father… the one who was sure the ocean was bluer on the other side of the world. My father… the one who couldn’t be bothered to commit to his mate and his daughters. He’d left on adventure after adventure, chasing I don’t even know what.

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