“We haven’t got much time. I’m issuing the call to order–NOW.” The dark, slender man tapped his foot impatiently on the worn carpeted floor. “And who the hell invited the Fairies?!”
The faint, lilting buzz of gossamer wings sounded above the heads of those gathered. “We have every right to be here!” one of the thin voices replied. “Every right in the world!”
“Get on with it, Bloodsucker,” the werewolf snarled. “We don’t have all night. She’s bound to awaken soon.”
The vampire held court from the center of the room, raising his arms for attention. Mac stared at his audience with an interest he hadn’t felt in all of his five-hundred plus years. Had there ever been such an eclectic meeting of such diverse, fantastic individuals? “As rude as this flea-bitten creature is, I’m afraid he’s right. Our time is short–”
“As are these quarters!” A huge beast of a man, his face hidden in the shadows, bellowed as he bumped his head on the ceiling once again. “Can’t the female afford a place with a bit more space??”
“You are welcome to wait outside, sir, if you find the area too cramped. There are the Titans and the Greco-Roman Gods. You’ll find yourself in good company. But I fear we can wait no longer.” Mac ran a hand through his smooth hair, flashing his fangs. “We all know why we’re gathered here tonight. This is her space. Her own cats have been allowed to attend us.” He bowed slightly to the felines who sat in rapt attention in each of the four corners. “She sleeps soundly in the next room. But the woman-scribe known as Raine is not writing.” He made a malicious hissing noise between his teeth. “And if she does not write, each of our special stories may never be told. And this we cannot allow.”