Page 4 of Angels Don’t Date

That’s when I noticed the photographer, a very irritated looking fairy with dark purple wings like knives arced above her head. She gave me a hard smile, not seeming to notice the vampires in the box with us.

He took a position three quarters from the girl, almost looking at me, so I mirrored him. He was tapping his foot, and then he began, crooning with his magical voice, and I wanted to scream and clap and bounce like a crazy fan, but I had kittens sliding around on my dress, so I held very still and came in at the wrong part, but who cared? I sang as well as I could, and his brow rose, while he recalibrated so that our voices blended better. Of course he did. We did longer than thirty seconds, actually the whole song. After it was over, he bowed over my hand again and then carefully put the kitten back in my arms.

“It’s been a pleasure princess…Do you have a name?”

“Katrina.”

He smiled a charming, sparkly smile and bowed again. “Kat? How fitting. It’s been a pleasure, Princess Katrina. Perhaps we’ll collaborate again.” He left the box, leaving me gaping after the biggest music sensation in all of the world, at least those willing to wear tights onstage.

I gasped when I realized I hadn’t been breathing, and then I pulled my phone out of the front of my dress, juggling kittens until I got it out and opened my app to text SunRae. It was only while the cursor was blinking in the box that I realized that I’d never actually gotten a recording of the duet.

I blinked at Herald while my heart sank. “Oh.”

His expression was bemused. “Fairies are not to be trusted.”

I sighed heavily while my bubble burst. “Well, it was always a long shot.”

Just then my notifications dinged, and there, sent by MonteRose200 was a video.

I squealed and danced around and almost fell off the balcony. I’d gotten my first prince charming duet. And it had kittens. No way this wouldn’t launch me into fame, fortune and millions of mini cakes.

Chapter

Two

Iheld still while Sultry strapped the enormous headdress on me, her concentrated frown somehow seductive instead of ugly. I’d managed to get home on the train before the Scholar noticed I was gone. Since I’d used Sultry as my alibi, I owed her, even if she didn’t know what she’d done for me.

“I should live in the sun, with flowers. The kittens would be so much happier in the daylight where they can frolic and play,” I mused out loud. I’d left them in my quarters, and they should be happy, but I needed to check on them.

Someone cleared their throat very loudly. I knew that throat-clear like it was my own last name. Not that I actually had a last name, but if I did, I’d know it was the elven scholar who disapproved of the entire world. Mr. Glade took great delight in bursting any bubbles anyone might happen to have. He may have had a first name, but I’d never dare use it unless he invited me and delivered the invitation wrapped it in an embossed envelope. He was probably allergic to cats and would inform the scholar that my behavior was in direct opposition to his contract, section five A. line fifty-seven. Meticulous, he most certainly was.

“It does get tedious living eternally underground,” he said.

I turned to stare at the tall, distinguished creature. He was as pretty as a sculpture carved by people who cared about beauty and were talented to boot. “And everyone smells like stale blood.”

“Stale something,” he agreed with a slight nod. “However, as a child, you certainly can’t live on your own out in the big wide world.”

“I’m not a child.” I barely didn’t stamp my foot. You see? Self-control. The hallmark of maturity.

Sultry pinned me one last final time then stepped back to admire her work. “What do you think, Glade? Do you think that the feathers are too much? I tried to replicate the local guineas, but as they’ve been extinct for two millennia, I had to guess.”

He squinted at the feathers and then nodded. “They’ll do well enough. Have either of you seen Miss Trombull? She left her sweater in the café again.” He raised his arm and the fluffy purple thing somehow didn’t look ridiculous on his elegant arm. He could even make Trombull’s chaos look elegant.

“Oh!” I hurriedly pulled off the headdress, scattering pins and handed it to Sultry. “Sorry! I forgot! I agreed to cover Mitt’s shift this morning at the café.”

“But…” Sultry began, but I was already running. I’d be late, and then whatever disaster happened, I’d have to clean up. Mitt was better at encouraging good behavior from the Infernals who came into the café for their blood frothies or whatever, but I mentioned the Scholar and that tended to calm people down. Probably because he spiked people to his wall if they didn’t behave. One guy had been staked there a month ago for urinating in a public hallway. Werewolves could be so disgusting.

When I got to the café off the main hall of the laboratory, Mini was waiting for her order with a scowl on her green face. No one else was there. She didn’t destroy property, just people, so it was all good.

“Sorry I’m late. Did you already send in your order?” I ducked under the counter, pulled on an apron, and then opened up the computer that showed our online orders. There at the top, was indeed an order from the grumpy goblin.

“Where’s Mitt? He does my order better. You always put sprinkles on everything,” she grumbled.

I beamed at her because I’d just noticed the powdery eye shadow surrounding her glowing yellow eyes. “I don’t put them on everything, but why wouldn’t you want sprinkles when life is so dreary down here and you could have a dash of color and happiness in your life? Like the seaweed sprinkles are flavor enhancers and cute. Who can resist that?”

She gave me a dead look. Mini was a tiny goblin, the smallest goblin I’d ever met, and the rumor was that she was part gnome, but she had zero sun in her disposition so I think she was just short. Short-tempered. Snicker. Still, she was wearing makeup like I’d been urging her to do for the last five years, since she started showing up so often, looking at Mitt so longingly. For a werewolf he didn’t smell too bad.

I started on her liver and bone biscuit mash, resisting the urge to top it with the pretty blend of seaweed, orange, red, green, aqua, to make the grayish brown blob look less like liver and bone-biscuits.