The Brotherhood of the Snake (Return of the Ancients Book 2) (27 page)

Chapter Fourteen – “Silence, Minion!”

The Queens surveyed the coffee shop with superior disdain, at first appearing oblivious to the open mouths gaping their way, but then the Dark Queen cast a look at a particularly tall male Fae hovering at her side.

He immediately stepped forward and addressed everyone in the coffee shop in a haughty tone, “As you were!”

To my surprise, the customers stiffly returned to their conversations and lattes.

Peering down at Jareth, Samantha asked dryly, “Friends of yours?”

Jareth’s lip curled a bit sarcastically, but his reply was sincere, “You should run far, very far from here, dragon.”

“I see,” Samantha said, raising a brow. “Relatives, then.”

His lip twitched. “You could say that.”

As the Queens moved through the coffee shop with poise and grace I nervously scanned their entourage. All of those impressively tall Fae guards accompanying them had to be Protectors. Had they come to exact revenge?

My eyes caught on a familiar face. I’d seen that white-blonde hair and those icy blue eyes before.

It was Raven.

She’d trimmed her long locks into a short, sassy haircut, and she was wearing a black leather bodysuit straight out of a sci-fi movie. Tapping her inch-long red nails on a nearby tabletop, she lifted her chin and skewered me with a chilling look.

She was elegant, sophisticated, and totally in Rafael’s class, and I suddenly felt like the proverbial country bumpkin—and a jealous bumpkin at that.

I was the foolish school girl daydreaming about a prince that really belonged to 
her
.

Flustered, I retreated to the counter, my scattered thoughts racing wildly in all directions.

What was Raven doing here?

And for that matter, why were the Queens here?

Were they going to kill us?

And where was Rafael?

From the corner of my eye, I saw Raven peruse the coffee mugs for sale. But she seemed to have eyes on the back of her head. She immediately turned and sent me an insipid smile.

I didn’t need an active sense of Light to see the hostility radiating beneath it.

Ellison hovered behind the counter, taking the order of a lean man wearing a blue business suit. But it was clear that they were both distracted. The man kept repeating the same thing while Ellison scribbled the order on the same paper cup, making a big black mess with the marker.

I couldn’t blame them.

With over a dozen, strikingly attractive Fae strolling through the coffee shop in outrageously expensive clothes, it was impossible not to stare at them.

Slipping behind the counter, I began organizing cups and fumbling with plastic lids. I couldn’t help but watch the Fae myself, but it was more in the interests of self-preservation as I wondered how to warn Rafael.

Looking to Jareth for guidance accomplished nothing. He was still sprawled in his brown, velvet chair with a sarcastic smirk on his face that could have meant anything.

Finally, the Queens paused at a table near the counter, standing there until the guards formed a protective circle and pulled out the chairs for them to sit down. And after a great fuss of smoothing dresses and adjusting hair, they sat.

But then, as one, they turned and focused their entire attention directly on me.

I froze.

Raising her hand, the Dark Queen snapped her fingers and ordered loudly, “Attend us at once, serving girl!”

Samantha’s jaw dropped open.

I didn’t move. I actually couldn’t. I was petrified. How could I? I didn’t stand a chance against them.

Cocking a brow, Jareth rose to his feet and still grinning widely, stalked to the Queens’ table, obnoxiously shoving a few of the guards out of his way. Placing his palms on the back of an empty chair, he leaned forward and murmured something in clearly amused tones.

The Queens drew back in surprise.

Then Jareth shrugged and still smirking, sauntered to the counter to slouch comfortably against the glass pastry case.

I scarcely had time to send him a curious look before the Queens stood simultaneously, and with a synchronized wave of their hands, approached the coffee bar, moving in unison the entire way.

It was downright creepy.

I barely resisted the urge to run.

For a moment, I thought Ellison would bolt, but he bravely stood his ground, and glancing down, he noticed for the first time that he’d been repeatedly scribbling on the same cup.

Smiling weakly at the man in the blue business suit, he said, “We’ll get that last drink right up for you, Mr. Cohen, but your hazelnut latte looks ready!”

His voice sounded unnaturally loud in the silent coffee shop, and he winced apologetically as he handed the man his coffee.

Mr. Cohen jerked a little, clearly startled, and accepting the drink, stepped back just as the Queens stepped forward.

It was one of those near misses.

He managed to twist his coffee up and away, barely preventing it from splashing all over their designer clothes just as the Light Queen nearly collided with him.

“That was close!” he said with a nervous laugh.

He moved to the left, and she moved to the right. He paused a moment before moving to the right as she moved to the left.

With a jovial laugh, he asked, “Shall we dance, beautiful?”

The Fae guards audibly drew their breath as the Light Queen bestowed a look of utter disdain upon the man.

“Silence, minion!” she commanded imperiously. “Get out of my sight!”

Ellison choked.

Mr. Cohen’s brows rose to his hairline.

Smothering a grin, Jareth looped his arm around the man’s shoulders and drew him aside, whispering in his ear.

Everyone in the coffee shop waited, straining forward to eavesdrop.

The man’s features relaxed and a startled expression crossed his face. “I see! I wish I could stay and watch more, but the wife’s waiting!” He clasped Jareth on the shoulder. “It’s an honor to meet you, young man. I’ll look forward to it on the big screen!”

Flashing a wide smile at the Queens, he headed for the door, forgetting entirely about his second latte.

We all looked at Jareth expectantly.

But true to his insufferable nature, he merely watched us with a smirk.

“If it’s not a media circus, then it’s something else,” Samantha said tartly. Sending Jareth a withering look, she turned her full attention on the Queens, and with an impressively calm reserve—as if she saw such divas every day—gave them her best wintery smile. “And how may I help you ladies this evening?”

Moving with an uncanny coordination, they angled their heads and raised their left hands, looking very much like twin puppets on strings.

“Provide sustenance, innkeeper,” they said in unison, throwing two stacks of money onto the counter at the same time.

Jareth gave a low, cynical chuckle and nodded at the Queens. “You’d love Samantha’s hot chocolate, no doubt. It’s the only thing I drink. Take a seat, and she’ll get it right over to you.”

A frown creased Samantha’s forehead, but adopting a professionally polite smile, she nodded in agreement with Jareth.

“Give wings to your feet,” the Light Queen ordered.

“And the girl must deliver it.” The Dark Queen pointed directly at me before i
gnoring us to return to their table.

“Alright,” Samantha said in a brittle voice and clapped her hands. “Hot chocolates and pastries for our guests, and Ellison, turn up the music.”

Almost immediately, the coffee shop broke out into a hubbub of voices, and everyone began to move as if suddenly released from some kind of spell.

Ellison headed for the radio as the baristas bustled about the coffee bar, and I snagged a plate for pastries.

One of the baristas began pouring milk into the stainless steel brewing pitchers, as the other wiped the espresso machine’s frothing wand clean.

“Hot chocolate coming up,” she said, releasing a loud burst of steam through the nozzle.

The hiss snaked sharply through the coffee shop.

Instantly, every Fae guard sprang to their feet to land in a protective stance. Moving as a unit, they drew out their trions, and as one, trained them on the barista.

The particularly tall Fae guard stepped forward in the direction of the espresso machine, and ordered, “Show yourself, beast!”

All sound in the coffee shop again came to a grinding halt.

No one made a peep.

Except Jareth.

Still leaning against the pastry case, he flung his head back and burst into a roar of laughter. And he kept 
on
 laughing, drawing in big gulps of air and slapping his knee as tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks.

Finally, Samantha rallied once again.

Clapping her hands once more, she commanded, “Hot chocolate! Pastries! Music! Get on it, people!”

We scurried to follow her orders.

Jareth kept snorting, wiping tears from his face until Samantha’s face darkened with disapproval. With a weak wave of his hand, he gestured for the Fae guards to stand down.

They clearly didn’t want to follow his orders, but they appeared intimidated by him. Very slowly and with great hesitation, they lowered their weapons as Samantha watched, drumming her fingers on the countertop.

“You’re a real treasure, Jareth,” she said pointedly, her brows knitting with displeasure. “Just what are you pulling now? I’ll not have my coffee shop turned into your private amusement park.”

It took him a few additional dragging breaths before he controlled himself enough to reply, “It’s the video, dragon. I asked them to stay in character.”

She was furious.

I thought she was going to kill him.

As the gossip flew around the coffee shop, the atmosphere became charged with excitement. People began snapping pictures of the Fae and debating which movies they’d seen them in as more customers appeared.

“Are we going to be in the video?” one of the baristas bounced up to ask Jareth.

As Samantha’s head whipped her way, she immediately bounced back to hide behind the espresso machine.

“What’s with all the pens they’re pointing at us?” I heard her ask her buddy barista.

“Looks like a science fiction take to me,” she replied.

I felt like telling them that they’d both almost died, but I knew they’d think I was crazy. After all, those trions did look a lot like ballpoint pens.

“There’s more where this came from,” Jareth was saying to Samantha. He’d picked up the Queens’ stacks of money and thrust them into Samantha’s hands.

“It isn’t about money, Jareth.” Samantha pursed her lips. “It’s about respect and—”

“Don’t fool yourself, dragon!” Jareth graced her with a dark laugh. “It’s all about money. Nothing else matters.”

“Then you’re ripe for a rude awakening, young man.” Samantha shoved the money back at him. “Nothing is worth losing the sanctity of my shop. Find somewhere else to shoot your video.”

Clearly reaching the end of her patience, she pulled me aside, and nodding at the Queens, said in a world-weary tone, “They’re all yours, Sydney.”

I wanted to tell her that Jareth was lying about the video and that those women were fairy queens—who just might want to kill me for looking into their magic mirrors—but Samantha had a severe frown on her face, and at the moment, I found her scarier than the Queens. Her presence was as every bit formidable and her temper equally imposing.

So I said nothing. I just nodded.

She nodded crisply in return, and pushing her sleeves up past her elbows, returned to sift through her pastry orders.

Wishing I could just simply ignore the Queens too, I piled the plate high with scones, muffins and a bunch of packets of Equal. But all too soon, the hot chocolate was ready.

It was only through pure discipline that, shortly after, I found myself inching forward to the Queens’ table, feeling very much like the sacrificial lamb.

“What is this?” The Queen of the Dark asked as I set the tray onto the table. Picking up a mug of hot chocolate, she sniffed it suspiciously. “The bouquet is peculiar.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Samantha look up from her paperwork. Her patience was obviously wearing thin.

That was something I really liked about her. She didn't treat her customers differently based on how rich they were. Looking curious and annoyed at the same time, she left her pastry orders and approached the Queens’ table.

“It’s the finest chocolate from Belgium,” Samantha supplied for me, clearly working to keep her smile in place. “I imagine your majesties will find it palatable.”

The Queens bowed graciously, totally missing her sarcasm.

“We see you are one who rules kindly," the Dark Queen addressed Samantha. "But with an iron hand. Would you grant us permission to speak with this girl?”

Samantha tapped a finger agitatedly against her cheek before asking me, “Is that ok with you, Sydney?”

“Sure, I don’t mind,” I said, lying through my teeth. I knew I didn’t have a choice.

“Well, make it quick. You’ve got work to do,” she said to me, turning to the Queens. “About this video—”

She was interrupted by Jareth swooping in to grab her arm.

“Please forgive me, Samantha,” he said with such a stunningly warm smile that even I did a double take. “You’re the only one I can trust to be so brutally honest. I can’t lose you now. I’d become unsalvageable. Surely, you don’t want my lost soul on your conscience?”

Samantha straightened her collar and pursed her lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Jareth,” she said, a note of frustration creeping into her voice.

Drawing her back to her pastry orders, he turned on the charm. As I watched his handsome face, I realized then that Jareth could be irresistible when he chose to be. I could already see Samantha wavering. Her eyes were beginning to crinkle in her version of a smile.

Suddenly, I realized that I was alone with the Queens.

I grimaced.