Page 187 of Evil Hearts

“I take it that you both are also in competition for my soulmate?”

The bastard has an accent that’s like all of Eastern Europe was tossed into a blender on high. It’s giving me a semi and a serious case of the willies at the same time.

“Soulmate is a strong word,” Leander begins, his antenna twitching as he tries to stuff me further behind him. I snort.

“You didn’t read the fine print then. The name on your invite is your soulmate or the closest living match you’ve got, so...thin and spooky over here is right,” I say with a shrug.

Leander blinks at me like I’m speaking Hellick instead of English, but one corner of the lich’s pale mouth lifts.

“The one with terrible insults and fashion sense speaks the truth.” I take that one on the chin as he continues. “If Zenith is your contestant, then she is your soulmate, but she is also mine, and I do not intend to lose her to anyone.”

“Well, I never really signed up for the whole soulmate thing,” Leander says, trying to speak around his nerves.

I can tell he wants to bolt, so I set my hand on top of his.

“I got Zenith as well; there is no running from whatever fate came up with this whole game, so just settle in and suck it up.”

The lich dips his head to me before floating to the other side of the room, a curl of shadow seeming to reach its icy fingers out to wrap around him as he literally shoves himself into the corner. Something about his almost hesitant expression makes me think that maybe there isn’t much confidence in that guy after all.

“My fashion sense ain’t so bad, is it?” I tug at the hem of my shirt to show it off beneath my leather jacket.

‘Yep, it’s a tea-shirt’ is boldly printed on the heather-gray material and is a little more color than I would normally wear, but it’s comfortable as fuck, and if I had to come to this thing, then I wanted all the comfort I could get.

“You dress like some’s dad,” Leander chokes out. The forced smile on his face almost makes me believe he’s trying not to shit his pants.

“You have got to calm down. Sure, we’re under threat of death, but we’re immortal. Wouldn’t hurt more than your last immunization,” I assure him.

“Big words for someone wearing a graphic t-shirt on a dating show,” he hisses, letting me go and fixing the buttons of his jacket.

“Listen here, I don’t need you and that one,” I jab a finger accusingly at the corner that only grows darker as the lich pulls more shadows onto himself, “thinking you can talk shit.”

“Right, sure thing, literal demon from hell.” Leander rolls his eyes and I laugh.

The Questions pt. 1

Zenith

“Got her mic-edup?” the host, dressed in a mixture of a three-piece suit and ancient formal attire, asks some shivering fish-person intern as they fumble with my tits. Well, not my tits really.

They just happen to be in the way of the tiny little mic they are trying to attach to my shirt. I guess the cleavage window was a little much for this show. Oops?

“Not yet, sir,” the intern croaks, the gills on the sides of their neck fluttering.

Literally croaks. Like a frog.

I can’t help the snort that slips out, but I do swallow down the giggles that follow. “Oh wow, sorry, I’m just, like, so not used to all of this still.” I wave my hand at the intern, who is now dripping with something that looks thicker than water.

“Miss Calasso, monsters have been out in society for over fifty years now. I thought humans like you don’t live that long,” the intern mumbles as the mic finally finds a good place to rest within the window of my top.

“Yeah, but I’ve never really hung out with monsters, y’know? I went to a private all-human school and my family isn’t too big on mixing,” I say with a wince. It felt like second nature to talkabout how small-minded my family was. I am trying to break away from them, but what’s an only daughter to do? I can’t exactly break my parents’ hearts so easily; plus, my daddy might make someone sleep with the actual fishes if he was displeased.

“Oh...so your family arethosekinds of people?” the intern asks with a sour expression, jerking their hands from my body like it burned them and smattering my chest in oddly cold sweat.

“They are traditional, to say the least,” I squeak, trying to hide the embarrassed flush on my cheeks by turning my attention to my bust. I try to wipe off whatever they sweat onto me, but all that does is make me shinier. “My folks are not really...the best people. Ever heard of the mob?” I ask with a smile so wide and fake they could use it for a dentistry commercial.

The intern blinks, clear eyelids passing over their eyeballs disconcertingly as the host pushes them out of the way. Their skin is pale and sunken in places where it would be awkward for a human’s to be, but it looks mystical on this person.

“And that is precisely why we wanted to start with you, Miss Calasso. To bridge the gaps of evil between humans and monsters.” He grins. “I’d think the daughter of one of the most feared mob bosses in the city would feel honored. We have picked some of the most influential and evil individuals known to monster-kind for you.”

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