Unfazed: A Cozy Fantasy Novel (Midlife Mage Book 1) by L.A. Boruff & Daphne Moore

Author:L.A. Boruff & Daphne Moore [Boruff, L.A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: The Phantom Pen
Published: 2022-02-09T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Pinned by the attention, I concentrated on not gulping. “His, ah, his name is Noir.” I had no idea why the name had appealed, but it suited him. The dragon poked his head out from my hair, and he twisted to look at me, eyes shining like inky jewels.

Johann rolled his eyes. “Of course. Imagination has never been your strong point.”

How nice of him to comment on my answer to another person’s question. He never failed to annoy.

Stepping into the room was rather like entering a zoo cage, with a bunch of beautiful predatory creatures all staring at me, trying to decide whether or not they were ready to take a bite. A weak part of me took comfort in Nick's presence, especially given my weakened state.

I’d met Pryce once before. Charisma radiated from him, drawing the eye and attention, even if you didn’t want to look at him.

Next around the table was an auburn-haired woman with gray eyes and an unreal beauty that stole the breath. A daoine sidhe, a child of the day court, though child was hardly an appropriate word for this woman, who was new to me.

It was strange having someone different here. The daoine didn’t generally delegate power. I would have expected to see Rhys, the current leader in the area, known to me only by description. Though I’d heard gossip he’d stepped back from some of his duties while trying to find a way to rescue his sister from the dominion of the House of Mists.

I shivered. She’d been involved in making Bliss, the drug of choice for the supernaturals, but the legends I’d heard about that place made Hell pale in comparison.

The next was a man I’d missed in my initial evaluation of the room. Seated far back in his chair, inconspicuous, I guessed him to be a rusalka. Not least because a mist rolled around him, thinning as I watched. The humans had the rusalka folklore down as them being primarily female, which wasn’t true in the least. The easiest way to describe a rusalka was water demon, though technically they weren’t demons at all.

Creepy? Absolutely. But not demonic. Their bodies were made entirely of water, but magic helped them achieve a humanesque shape. Their power grew from drowning living things. The more they drowned, the more powerful they grew.

Lovely.

Like Johann, he was not beautiful. The flesh of his face was pulled tighter than an elderly actor trying to regain their youth. His skin gleamed with a liquid sheen, like a skull painted with liquid make up. He regarded me with eyes like black pits.

Finally, Johann Schmidt. Since I’d seen him last, his aquiline nose had become more crooked, as if it had been broken several times in the past month. He grinned at me, his teeth uneven and yellowed.

None of it real. He was a fé, illusion his power to call. It said something about him that he’d chosen this appearance.

“Who invited you?” In contrast to his appearance, his voice was mellow and pleasant.

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