“Oh,no!”Aunt Maizy wailed, when she saw that Prissy was doing. “Princess Prissy, howcould you?First naughty humpies before you’re even married and nowthis!And on yourbig day, too!”
But my crying Aunt couldn’t stop Prissy. I tried to catch the little dog—though I really didn’t want to—but she dodged away from me, trailing the long white dress and spreading the mess all over the carpet. Have you seen that YouTube video where the dog poops on the carpet and then the Rumba vacuum cleaner drives over it and smears it everywhere? Yeah—it was like that but worse.
The whole room was in an uproar at this point—people were getting up from their places and holding their noses, their dogs were barking and the male ones were anxious to get to Princess Prissy, so many of the owners were yanking on their leashes. The little dogs were all yipping like crazy and the big ones were baying and howling. You would have thought ten thousand UPS drivers had all showed up at the front door at the same time!
Still, I tried to catch Princess Prissy. She was scampering around and around the room, spreading her shameful misdeed all over the carpet as she dragged the expensive—and by this time thoroughly be-shitted Vera Wang wedding dress—behind her.
Finally someone stamped down on the train of the dress, bringing her up short with a slightly strangled“Yip!”At that moment, I was able to grab her—though you’d better believe I held her at arm’s length and was careful not to touch the disgusting dress.
“I’ve got her!” I called to my Great Aunt, who was sobbing hysterically by now. “I’ll just take her to the restroom to clean her up!”
I don’t know if Great Aunt Maizy heard me or not. But I carried Prissy out of the Blue Room, down the hall, and into one of the many guest bathrooms in my Aunt’s mini mansion.
Luckily, there was a bathtub in the one I chose. Closing the door behind me, I put Prissy in the tub, which thankfully had very high sides so she couldn’t jump out.
I was just wondering how to get the dress off her without getting dog crap all over myself, when I heard the strangest noise right behind me—it sounded like someone was playing a fanfare on the trumpet.
I frowned—what the hell? Was there a musician somewhere around here? But hadn’t Great Aunt Maizy hired a string quartet? That wouldn’t include a trumpet player—would it?
Turning, I saw a very surprising sight—something weird was going on with the mirror mounted over the bathroom sink.
Forgetting about the stinky, yapping dog in the tub for a moment, I took a step towards it, frowning at what I saw. It was like a swirling kaleidoscope of colors, whirling around and around hypnotically. And then the trumpet fanfare played again.
“What the Hell?” I muttered as Prissy yapped behind me. Had my Aunt had some weird computer screen installed in the mirror for some reason? It sounded like something she would do—she spent money like it was water.
And then the swirling disappeared and a face was looking back at me—which is generally what you expect when you look in the mirror. Only you expect to see yourownface—and this was someone completely different.
The person I was looking at was male—that much was certain. But he wasn’t human—not at all.
He had gray skin like marble with a slight purple under-tint to it and thick black hair that was cut short except for the sideburns, which came down in two sharp points on either side of his face. He had high cheekbones, a knife blade of a nose, and a thin but sensual mouth.
He also had horns—curling ram’s horns that were rooted on either side of his broad forehead. But not even the horns could distract me from his eyes—they were black. Not just the pupils or the irises—I meanallof them—the entire eye socket was just filled with endless midnight.
The sight nearly scared me to death. Besides being a voracious reader, I’m also a big fan of horror movies. And I had seen enough of those to know that when you encounter a being that has pure black eyes like that, they are absolutely evil through and through. Usually they’re either a demon or possessed by a demon—either way it’s not a good scenario for the hapless person who happens to run into them.
Only I never expected that hapless person to beme.
For a moment I just stared at this strange and frightening face and then it—or he—spoke.
“Yes,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice. “She’ll do nicely.”
Was it my imagination or did he have a British accent? Was he a demon from the UK? Or some other monster who just happened to sound extremely civilized—like he might offer you a cup of tea before he gutted you?
A new voice cut into my wild speculation—a high, piping voice like a character in a kid’s film.
“An excellent choice, Overlord! A very fine specimen of a La-ti-zal!”
Wrong genre!I thought numbly.This is horror—definitelynotfamily-friendly!
“I shall take her—she will make an excellent pet,” the male with the midnight black eyes rumbled.
“Acknowledged, Your Eminence. Beginning Transfer Sequence,” the second, higher voice remarked.
And then the whirling colors returned, bringing with them a howling wind that seemed to suck at me like a giant industrial strength vacuum cleaner.
I found my voice at last.
“Hey, wait—no!” I gasped, trying to pull back.