Page 3 of Asher

“Hello, Asher. Were you busy?”

See? A subtle rebuke over how long it took me to pick up. Now I either have to lie to her or admit I didn’t want to answer… and she can sense a lie from halfway around the world, my cousin Gideon assures me.

“I was trying to work out an equation,” I prevaricate. It’s not totally a lie.

“I see.” The disapproving edge to her voice is a clear indication that she sees right through me. “I won’t keep you too long, then. I wouldn’t want family to interfere with your busy and important life.”

Just kill me now.

“Nothing’s more important than family,” I assure her, and sincerity rings in my tone. I believe that wholeheartedly. It’s just that Grandmother’s idea of family priorities is vastly different from mine.

“True,” she agrees. “Are you seeing anyone?”

There it is. Her current priority: marrying me off so I’ll get started on producing the next generation. Part of me understands why she’s in a hurry. As a species, our fertility rate is super low. It can take decades or centuries to conceive, and she’s probably only got three or four hundred years left. Maybe five, at a stretch. If she’s going to hold her great-grandchildren, someone has to get started making them.

On the flip side, I don’t want that someone to be me. I like being single, and I’m not ready to think about kids, even if I was seeing someone.

“Not right now, Grandmother.” I cringe and wait for the reply I know is coming.

“Excellent! I was talking to a friend this morning, and she mentioned her daughter will be in Zurich this weekend. It would be so kind if you could take her to dinner, maybe show her around the city.”

Well, at least this isn’t as bad as when she invited three people to dinner and told me to take my pick.

“That sounds like it would be fun, but I can’t.” I manage to make myself sound regretful. “I’m coming back home on Friday, and I’ll be based there for a few weeks, at least.” I enjoy spending time in Zurich and managing the family’s business interests, but nothing is better than home with my family. We’ve only lived in Switzerland for the past half century or so, but I love it.

“Oh. You’ll be home? Well, I suppose she’ll have to find her way around on her own. I’ve missed you.” I can hear the smile in her voice, and my annoyance at her matchmaking fades. She loves us—I’ve never doubted that.

“Maybe I can meet up with her another time,” I find myself saying, like an idiot.

“We can sort that out later. I’m glad you’ll be back. The new teachers are coming this week, and I’m not sure if I was right to agree to all this. Jesse’s asked me to host the welcome dinner. You’ll come, of course—I’d appreciate your opinion of them.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course.” Like she needs anyone’s opinion except her own. The woman’s sharper than a tack. Iaminterested to meet these new teachers, though. My seven-year-old sister is still in school, and it’s been a pain in the ass trading off homeschooling duties with my parents this past year. Half the time I have no clue what I’m supposed to be teaching her. Or she’ll ask a question I can’t answer, like “what kind of tree is the tallest and do birds nest at the top?” Google has become my best friend.

It's a little concerning that they’re not just teachers. Anthropologists, Gideon said, who want to write a research report on a single-species town and how that’s affected us and the children. Theyareteachers, though, with plenty of experience, and most important, they’re not demons. A hellhound, a sorcerer, and a succubus, Gideon told me. That should give the children a decent orientation to other species until we can start attracting them to live in the village.

Grandmother asks me to bring her a few things from her favorite shops—yay for me—then ends the call with the imperious order to let her know what time I’ll be arriving.

I drop my phone onto my desk and stare blankly at the computer screen, thoughts of teachers, matchmaking, and old lady shopping whirling through my head. Two out of three aren’t really issues, but I’ve got to find a solution to the matchmaking. How do I convince Grandmother to let it go?

A conversation I had with my cousins when Gideon and his boyfriend—who happens to be the lucifer, the leader of the community of species—visited a month ago pops into my head. It’s ridiculous, but could the solution be to find a sensible, like-minded person willing to marry me in a business deal just to get Grandmother off my back? We could have contracts and out clauses and agree to dissolve the whole thing if we meet people we want to marry for real.

I snort. I can’t seriously be considering this. No, there’s another solution; I just haven’t thought of it yet. What I need is a few hours away from my desk to clear my head.

Glancing at the time, I see business hours are well and truly over. No wonder my stomach’s growling. I’ll head down to the pub and see about a meal and a drink… and maybe some company for the night, to clear the cobwebs away.

* * *

“Is this seat taken?”

I look up from my drink at the man standing opposite, his hand resting lightly on the back of the booth. A beer bottle dangles loosely from his other hand, and there’s a small, suggestive smile on his attractive face.

“Be my guest.”

He slides into the booth as I push aside my empty dinner plate and covertly study him. He’s a shifter—hellhound would be my guess, based on his six-foot-plus stature—with curly mid-brown hair and brown eyes in an attractive face. It’s a whole checklist of ticks for me… as long as he’s okay with casual.

“I’m Asher,” I offer, and his smile widens.

“Garrett. I’m only here for a couple of days and want some company.”

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