Does anyone have a clue why we're actually here?" The young fairy girl to his left asked. Her yellow wings fluttering nervously. She clasped her dainty hands and looked to the rest of the group for answers. But none of the teens had any.
"Calm down Nicola." A male vampire from across the table eyed the rest of them with a cool expression. "Remember what Amitiel told us? They just have questions for us."
"Like the angels have given us any reason to trust them." She pouted.
"Would the angel of truth lie to us?"
"The fae folk I can understand." A werewolf seated to his right said ignoring the obvious glares he was receiving from Nicola. "But what do angels want with werewolves?"
"Watch your tongue Aaren." The same vampire spoke. "We have no quarrel with each other. We are all equals here. This is The Hall of Dust as we were all made out of. It is a room for peaceful resolution."
The werewolf's mouths closed and the only sound in the room was the anxious murmuring of the frightened creatures who were seated at the rounded table waiting for whatever news they had been called for.
Usually when a problem involving the mythical creatures occurred only one group at a time was summoned.
When white tailed deer had begun disappearing by the herd in the East Mountains, they had only questioned the werewolves.
When Mount Rushmore had been destroyed and had to be rebuilt the gargoyles were responsible.
Never together. It caused too much unrest.
To be seated here all together. Vampire, and Werewolves, Warlocks and the Fae, Witches and Evokers was making everyone defensive. If things did not continue quickly a war could start in this very room.
"Nervous?" His sister seated beside him asked, her pink eyes flashing with curiosity.
He bit his lip not wanting to voice his fear in the company of those who were not his own. "Anxious." He lied, resuming his previous task of keeping his eyes glued on the door that the angel who had led them here had disappeared through some time ago.
"I say they're gonna kill us." She whispered to him. This statement was not only heard by him but by a satyr across the table whose ears perked up.
"Kill?" She asked, her lip quivering. "Is that what you said warlock? They plan to kill us?"
His sister shrugged. "I said "I think".
YOU ARE READING
Till The Stars Grow Old
FantasyA genderfluid warlock and a vampire crash your dinner party. It sounds like the start of a bad joke but for centuries old Gatsby Pompadour it's all too real. Over the years Gatsby has tried to forget a tragic past and almost has erased it completely...
