Chapter 15 Chapter Fifteen - Jartre
“How did you know I was your animai?” she asks, as if the air wasn’t thick with need from both of us. Perhaps she can offer tips on how she does that.
“Hmm, well, you see it’s different for all supernaturals. For me, it was several things. First, it was the way the air in the room felt thick – enveloping in a way. Then there was the scent. Your scent is the strongest I have ever encountered and smells like bubble gum and cream sickle. Then as soon as I saw you, it was as though you were bathed in this ethereal light. I’d never seen anything like it,” I explain, replaying the moment I first saw her in my mind, as I try to speak with the accurate amount of reverence I felt in that moment. I hear her gulp and focus my attention back on her.
“I didn’t see a light or anything, but the smell of you is definitely intoxicating and when you’re around… the room feels like it’s filled with static electricity,” she carefully explains, trying to find the right words.
I snort, “How appropriate.”
“Why do you say that?”
I figure actions speak louder than words, so I snap my fingers and summon forth a brief roar of thunder paired with the perfect strike of lightning just outside her building. Gabriella sits still as can be as her eyes glance out the window and then back at me.
“Did you do that?” she asks. I nod in reply. “Can every God do that?”
“It’s one of my specific gifts. See, for the most part, our gifts overlap, but then there are specific abilities that are unique to us and define who we are.”
“And yours is lightning?”
“It’s one of them,” I say tentatively.
“What’s another?”
Oh, this should go great.
“I have the power to rip through the very fabric of existence,” I deadpan.
She stares at me, blinking rapidly; her lips pursed as she bobs her head, “I totally knew that.”
I chuckle, “You’re taking this all incredibly well,” I say with a hint of concern. I’m not even sure a supernatural being would take this well and we made them.
She shrugs, “Meh. I’m more shocked by the people who get elected to power these days.”
“Ah, yes, the human voting system,” I say with unveiled cynicism. Complete and total farse.
“You don’t have a voting system or democracy among each other?”
“We usually just leave each other to our own devices.”
“Sounds chaotic.”
“Enough about politics,” I say as I snatch the pad from her hands, “What other questions do you have on this thing?”
“Hey!” she exclaims, snatching the pad back. I could have made that impossible to grab, but that seemed unfair to her. “Don’t go snatching things. My next question was going to be, you mentioned witches exist.”
“Makkares,” I correct her.
“Right, those. What else exists? Do fairies exist? Leprechauns? Bigfoot?” she asks, each question gaining in interest.
“No, no and no. Bigfoot? Really?” I ask disappointedly.
“I don’t think it’s unreasonable to assume. Have you seen yourself?” she casually asks, gesturing up and down to me.
My jaw nearly hits the floor as I stare at this woman and the nerve she has to actually say that out loud.
“Did you just compare me to a sasquatch?”
“What? No! I just mean because you’re huge. Maybe one of you Gods were walking out in nature and left prints behind, I don’t fucking know,” she says defensively.
“I think your imagination is running away with you.”
She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She looks back at her pad, “Okay, what about bunyips or vampires?”
I shift slightly and feel my body tense. Of course, she’d have to bring up vampires. I take air into my lungs and prepare to answer her, hoping she doesn’t dig too deep into this.
“Bunyips no. Vampires, yes, but they’re called sanguidae. No culture has described them accurately yet, but yes they exist,” I say with an exhale. I really don’t want to have to explain that their existence is my fault. I stand by what I did to that fucker, Oshmin, but I never thought the curse would spread and infect humans, though if I’m being honest, I never gave a shit. I still don’t really give a shit about humans. Gabriella is the exception.
“Are you serious? Vampires are real? Do they drink blood?” she asks with greater interest as she scoots closer.
“Yes, and yes, but not to survive. It’s more of a compulsion thing,” I say, trying to answer with the bare minimum information. I reach out once again snatching the pad from her and scan over an extremely extensive list of supernatural beings. It looks like she opened up her internet browser and just went searching for every mythical being to ever be mentioned. She even included unicorns. “You know it would be much easier if I simply told you what does exist, it’s a much smaller list.”
“Really?” she says in surprise, “Okay, go for it.”
“Let’s see,” I say as I scan the list, “Genies, those exist. They’re called visums. Um.” Fuck, I’m hating this list more and more. “In a manner of speaking, yes demons exist, they’re called eytes.” Great, another thing I’m fucking responsible for. It’s like she has managed to assemble the worst version of This is Your Life, and I’m not too thrilled about it.
“Why does that seem to bother you?” she says with confusion.
“It’s nothing.”
“Are all Gods bad liars or just you?”
My nostrils flare and I feel heat prickle up my spine, but I manage to reign myself in. She is not someone I wish to snap at.
“You have a lot of nerve to show such disrespect. Has it not yet sunk in that you’re talking to a God?” I say bitingly.
“Has it not yet sunk in that I don’t care? I mean, whatcha gonna do, smite me?” she says mockingly before her body slumps in confusion, “What does smite even mean?”
I stare at her, once again stupefied by her ambivalence to the fact she’s talking to a God. She genuinely doesn’t give a flying fuck. She’s the first person besides the Gods themselves to never fear me. On one hand, I don’t want her to fear me, but on the other, it’s disconcerting to have such a weaker species feel no fear or reverence for me. I’m not accustomed to it, and I don’t like it.
“It means to strike with a firm blow,” I begrudgingly answer.
She snorts, “That’s it? So all this time when people talk about being smited by God they just mean God’s gonna smack a hoe? That’s not intimidating at all,” she shrugs looking unimpressed.
I stare at her with a mix of irritation and incredulity, “You might be the most confounding person I have ever met, and I’m older than every person on this planet.”
She grins, “I take that as a compliment. Are you going to tell me why going through that list was giving you those grumpy lines between your eyes?” she asks, reaching out and smoothing the wrinkled skin between my eyes. Her touch burns deliciously and calms my entire being. It’s such a simple gesture, not meant to mean anything, and yet it ignites my essram with a joy it’s never known. This could be dangerous.
“It’s complicated,” I say brusquely.
“That is such a lame excuse,” she snorts, “Nothing is that complicated,” she says dubiously.
“You think the drama of a God is simple?” I ask, raising my eyebrow in challenge.
She purses her lips deliberating my question, “Okay, fair.”
“Thank you. Shall I continue this list?”
“Please,” she nods, “So we’ve got genies, vampires, witches, and demons. What else? Yes, I know that’s not what they’re called, just let me use the terms I’m familiar with.”
I shrug, “Doesn’t bother me one way or another.” I return my attention to her list as I turn the page, “Merfolk are real, they’re called sirna. Um, werewolves are real, they’re mutolupus and none of that full-moon fuckery. There are also beings that you won’t find on this list such as nagatas, which are basically like snake people and irshiusts, who are walking lie detectors. Hmm.” I continue to scan through the lists seeing if she’s included what I’m looking for, “Ah, yes,” I say with a smile, “Thunderbirds are definitely real, they’re called raitruum,” I say proudly as I place the pad on the coffee table when another name catches my eye, “Oh and those,” I say pointing to the name on the paper, “They’re also real, but called fyrmat,” I say, leaning back.
She glances at the name I pointed to and nods thoughtfully, “That’s it?”
“So far. There are hybrids too, but that’s expected.”
“Why were you so excited about raitruums?” she asks curiously, taking a sip of her wine. No one will ever accuse her of lacking in observation.
“Because I created them. Truth be told I’m responsible for the creation of several beings on that list, but I’d rather not get into it.”
She chokes on her wine, and I instantly sit up prepared to heal her if need be. Why the fuck are humans so fucking fragile? What is the fucking point?
“You created them?” she splutters, patting her chest.
“We’re called Gods for a reason, not just because of our astonishing power, but because we create things, some of us more than others or for different reasons,” I explain, slowly sitting back when I hear her breathing even out.
“So, all supernaturals were created by the Gods?”
“For varying reasons, but yes.”
“So why did you create raitruums?” she asks with intrigue. Well, I fucking opened myself up to that one.
“As a solution to a problem I in part caused,” I say emotionlessly.
“I’m going to assume by the vague answer, you don’t wish to discuss it.”
“You’re very astute for a human,” I commend her.
Her face slips into an emotionless mask, “Yes, we mere mortals are quite astute. We’ve also mastered fire and invented the wheel,” she says sarcastically.
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit you know.”
“At least one of us has some,” she says, taking another sip of her drink.
There she goes with that smart mouth of hers. I used to think Ezillus and Morrtemis, and even to a degree Merlos had the gift of repartee, but this little spitfire could give them a run for their money. It’s infuriating, no doubt, but at the same time oddly amusing. All my feelings for her are contradictions of one another and I can’t make heads or tails of it.