(Kaito POV)
Ah, for fuckin' sake. Why'd the hotel drop us in a town with a mission already sittin' on the doorstep? I was two slow songs and one open button away from Lettie givin' me the kind of dance the preachers warn you about, and then—bam—June comes slidin' in like the hall monitor of my sins. No knock, no manners, just pure slime-blocked.
I swear the fates must be watchin' from whatever cracked mirror they keep up there, 'cause Tav showin' up at our door, askin' to join, ended up a proper stroke of luck.
Before we even landed here, I'd had a wee chat with him. He tells most folk he's from Oklahoma, but truth be told, he's from another world altogether—planet Turries.
I was givin' him the once-over, weighin' if he was trouble, and asked why he was spillin' his guts to me. He says with that nose of his, he clocked us for Sonters the moment we crossed paths. Says Sonters carry a nature smell about 'em, like forest rings and fresh rain.
Then he grinned—wide—and I caught the mark in his teeth. Glowed when he flashed it. Lettie and June wouldn't be able to see it, but since I've been fibbin' about my true rank, I could.
And sweet fuckin' saints above… this lad's a powerhouse.
We needed a bodyguard for Loretta anyhow—she's the only one of us who hasn't been trained to throw down. Yes, I taught her how to dance like a sleep agent, but she needed to do more than that. And Vinyl? Sweet as sin but useless in a fight. That Cackaleek watches danger like it's a soap opera. Tav, at least, has fangs, reflexes, and a solid right hook.
Truth is, I'd hate to leave Loretta unprotected. I call her my true wife, and I don't use that lightly. I've dated plenty, but never tied myself down. For immortals, marriage's a tricky thing. Vampires can turn their lovers and keep them forever. Me? Not everyone's keen on becoming a demon or an angel, especially if it's not their true form.
I got lucky with mine, but the one I wear in the bedroom isn't it—and that's what keeps me up. If Loretta ever saw me as I really am, I'd look like one of those angels in the old book saying, "Do not be afraid," knowing she'd have every reason to be.
I've thought about showing Loretta, maybe even before I proposed. She might freak, and I'd give her time. But it's a hard truth to bare. She's already got so much on her plate. And Sonster law would have me sign a mountain of paperwork if I ever took the next step. Technically, under that law, since I signed without her truly knowing about my true form, it's already half like making her my priestess. The word's up for debate, sure, but since my kind's considered a divinity species, that's the term they make me use.
Now here we are—with June barging in like it's casual. Last I'd seen, she was taking Tav to her room, laughing like he was some great bloody mountain worth climbing. If I were the type to stir the pot, I might've made a crack about letting him in on our fun—but that's not Loretta style. And me? I've yet to have Loretta from the front, her choice, saving it for marriage, she says. So I keep my mouth shut and let the thought drift off.
Loretta caught the annoyed look on my face before I'd even pushed out of the chair. I pulled the mirror from my pocket, punched in the order for gear, and slapped Tav onto our roster. He'll have a mountain of paperwork waiting—serves that outspace wolf right. Me and Loretta could've been finished by now, or at least curled up for a bit of peace, maybe just a few quiet cuddles. She only smirked, giving me that soft little pat on the back that says, "I know, love, but we've got to play nice right now." Then, all gentle and sweet, she asks, "Do we really have to take this job? We just finished a big one."
I let out a slow whistle as the bags at my feet gave off a faint glow—Sonter issue, all business. I pulled my boots from one, the pair I only wear when work's about to get real. June shut the door behind her like she owned the place, flashing a grin before dropping, in that condescending older-sibling tone, "I'm not sorry for slime-blocking, but you know the hotel rules." I shot her the bird without even looking up, which only made her laugh as she sauntered off to get ready for her side of the mission.
Loretta folded her arms, reaching over to click off the radio, that disappointed look settling in her eyes. I stepped in close, rubbing her shoulders as I said, "It's a Sonter deal, love. So we can stay in a super nice place like this for free. All-paid trip while our ride gets fixed. And I promise, I'll put in for some leave so we can go off and play."
She gave me a small smile. "I guess you're right," she said.
I let out a laugh, and we all gathered in the lobby.
The fellow who'd sent for us was a gent by the name of Mr. Top, with what looked like a pretty boy on a leash at his side. He tipped his hat and said, "We need to make the flowers breed—but the only way to do that is by performance."
Loretta didn't look too pleased with that notion—she's fond of a performance, sure enough, but never for free. Strange quirk to some, though she'll tell you there's a balance to it, that when she's on the stage the very world tilts and shifts about her. I've felt it meself, deep in the bones, and when it's the two of us performing, she leaves me full in a way nothing else can. I suppose the Sonters were right to scribble "priestess" on my courting profile.
As we followed Mr. Top toward the flowers, he led us into a side room where the gear was waiting. June made straight for a Brazilian berimbau, grinning like it had been strung there just for her. Tav, for some reason, took up a grand harp—looked near ridiculous in his hands, but somehow suited that strange, outworld grace he's got. I stuck with my chimes, but rigged them onto a drum set for a bit of extra punch. And Loretta, she reached for a guitar carved with skulls along the fretboard—dark and bold, just like the way she plays.
When we finally stepped up to see the flowers, they were something else entirely—tall as the lobby ceiling, stems twisting like braids of green glass, petals throwing off colors I couldn't rightly name. They swayed, slow and strange, and I couldn't tell if it was the breeze moving them… or something with eyes on us.
Seemed like fate's own hand—or maybe just the Sonter network—was forever handing me the sort of work that fit too well. Rare's the day it doesn't.
Tav piped up with a fair question: "How are we supposed to play as a band if we've never practised a song?" I just laughed, muttered a quick spell, and told them to get on stage and start with some opening notes. June struck up first, and soon enough we were all in it together. We played well—better than we had any right to—and the flowers bloomed wide, workers darting in to collect whatever it was they needed.
Once the song wrapped and Mr. Top said we could keep the new instruments, we ended up sitting around a table for a bite. Plates clinked, steam rising from bowls, and the scent of spiced meat and fresh bread drifted between us. June tore into a pastry with her usual enthusiasm, then leaned back and asked with a smirk, "How'd we manage to play so well without even practising?".
Loretta smirked over her cup and said, "My Kaito's got a magical gift for music, and he said a little spell to put us on the right beat." Tav, mid-sip of something that looked far too fancy for this place, frowned in thought and asked, "Isn't that like cheating?" I rolled my eyes—heard that one too many times—and said, "It's not cheating if it's a nudge. Cheating would be letting them play for us, but a nudge goes a long way."
That shut them up quick. I shoved back my chair and headed for the restroom, still chewing over the meal. Halfway there, Mr. Top slipped in behind me like a bad penny and murmured, "You know your mother's been calling about you." I muttered, "Oh, fuck," under my breath, not even breaking stride.