Fashionably Flawed by Robyn Peterman

Author:Robyn Peterman [Peterman, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robyn Peterman
Published: 2017-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“The question was simple, Mother,” I repeated myself—again. “Tell me where Fate is.”

Mother Nature pinned me with her sharp gaze and stomped her small foot. “Tell me why you want to see her and I shall give you what you want—for a price.”

Talking with my mother was similar to conversing with a brick wall—it usually went nowhere. However, when one needed information quickly, she was the go-to gal. It just came with a tremendous amount of annoying bullshit and strings.

“I need to know what she knows about the Sirens,” I replied, feeling under duress. I did not enjoy needing others.

We were in Mother Nature’s palace although we may as well have been in her gardens. It was impossible to tell the difference as trees and flowering vines covered every available inch of real estate. The only clue that it was the interior of her home was instead of grass being beneath our feet the floors were bright pink marble. The riot of color was enough to give me a headache. Add my mother to the equation and it became a migraine.

“Sirens?” she questioned doubtfully, as she poured us each a glass of what I assumed was lemonade from a large crystal pitcher.

One never knew with my mother. Tasting anything in Nirvana was a risk. She couldn’t cook to save her immortal life.

“Yessss, Sirens,” I hissed. “I’ve repeated myself three times. Even though I adore the sound of my own voice, I shall not keep reiterating.”

“They’re extinct,” my mother said, taking a tentative sip of the yellow concoction and then spitting it out. “Don’t drink that—too much sugar—or maybe I used the wrong fruit.”

“They’re not extinct,” I replied, pushing the glass away. “I found one.”

“Where?”

“Chicago. It’s the soul seller I’m after.”

“Fascinating,” she said, petting a monkey that was perched in her lap. “So it wasn’t a Mermaid then?”

“No. Not a Mermaid,” I said, holding on to my patience with effort. “Tell me where Fate is.”

“Give me more of the story and I will,” she promised.

With a sigh born of long suffering, I considered my options. I could go back to Hell and have my Demons track down Fate, but that would take time I didn’t have. My brother, God, was out of the question, so that left my mother. She kept tabs on everyone. Mother Nature was an insufferable gossip and a goddamned GPS for the whereabouts of immortals.

“Fine,” I snapped rudely. “The Trolls want the Siren. Apparently the Troll King is collecting the souls of the Sirens to take down Fate and rule the world. It’s utter bullshit, but I’m getting my photograph taken by the immortal law-breaking Siren tomorrow and I need to be prepared. I refuse to go in blind.”

Her knowing smile made me grind my teeth. “You like the Siren.”

“I do not like the Siren.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do.”

“Don’t. Enough,” I shouted, causing the monkeys to scatter in alarm. “I don’t even know her. Do I want her? Yes. Will I kill her if I have to? Absolutely.

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