“I thought you said this was a small gathering,” I muttered, shooting a glare at Michelle.

                “It is,” she said and while I could read the honesty in her mind, I didn’t like it.  “You should see the big decade gatherings, last time we rented out a resort in Tahoe and still had to book out two hotels next to it for enough space.  This is just the important people from various businesses the family runs, two of our politicians that could get away from their duties, some locals and a few others.
                “It looks like they’re hosting the Met Gala or something,” Luna said as our car took its place in an insanely long line of limos. 

                “At least we’re in something different,” Zothie said, looking around.  He was right, the scarlet stretch SUV stood out among the limos, even those that were longer weren’t as eye catching.  “Did you plan this on purpose, Michelle?”

                “You told me to,” she protested.  “You said, make us stand out.”

                “Me, want to make a grand entrance?  Never, my dear,” he told her soothingly.

                “Liar,” I retorted. 

                “My Psyche, you should be grand before those who worship you,” Dani told us.  “Both of the gods need to act like it.”

                “That’s the plan,” I said, rolling my shoulders.  The motion continued down my tendrils before they coiled close to my back again.  The capelet came to my hips and would hide the tendrils as long as I didn’t move too quickly.  Or toss it away in a fit of pique.  Or go ass over teakettle and land on my face.  Any of those were possible.

                “We’ve worshipped Zoth Ommog for centuries,” Michelle reminded me.  “The Dunamis family left Greece for the Pacific Northwest on his orders.  We took his advice, and the family grew in wealth and influence.  The family has benefited so much from his guidance.

                “And now, it’s time for the family to kiss some ass and be reminded there is a new goddess on the block,” Michelle finished.  “You both look great, we look great.  This is going to be ok.”

                “Or it’ll crash and burn, and we’ll lose our deposit for the venue,” Luna said with a shrug as she slipped on a heavy leather gauntlet that ran up to her shoulder.  She’d be carrying Dani as an owl behind us.  “Either way, Michelle said there’d be food, Psy.  Think of the fancy food.”

                “That is a good perk,” I said with a grin.  “I’m just nervous, it’s strange to be looking at so many people, important people, and know that they’re supposed to worship me.  Instead of, you know, trying to tranquilize me because I didn’t want to do some stupid test.”

                “I promise not to worship you,” Zothie said, giving the boy scout salute. 

                “You were never a scout,” Luna teased.

                “I spent a decade in the mind of one,” Zothie countered as the car rolled to a stop. 

                “Remember, let me out first so I can announce you both,” Michelle said as the door was pulled open.

                “Show time, chin up,” Zothie murmured to me as he followed her out on cue.  His hand reached back in for me and I let him help me out of the car, praying the dress would behave and I wouldn’t flash anyone.

                It behaved and I stepped gracefully from the car onto a carpet that matched it, hand still in my brother’s.  I was instantly grateful I’d worn lower heels; I had no idea how Michelle was making hers work on the slick red carpet.

                I instantly heard the murmuring of minds around me.  There was a many unkind things about my skin that I won’t repeat.  Some hated how young I looked, others didn’t believe Zothie and I were who we claimed to be.  Tonight’s going to be fun.

                But first we had to wade through the “receiving line” of some of the big important people.  Well, we were supposed to go through the line like everyone else, but I took one look at the pit of vipers there and shook my head.

                “We could make them come to us,” Zothie whispered across my mind. 

                “I like that better,” I answered in kind.  I sent a thought to Michelle, “Change of plans- they can come to us.  Where are we seated?”

                “What,” she asked aloud, looking to me.

                “I don’t go to peons,” Zothie said aloud, his voice echoing through the room.  “They can prostrate themselves before us as befits them.”

                At his mental prompting, I lifted my chin, spine straight as I scanned the room.  “Same.  Bring them to us after we’ve taken our places, Michelle.”

                She didn’t miss a beat, gave us both a bow and led the way past a collection of shocked older men to a dais that had been set up in the northern end of the room.  I felt her flash of irritation that there were no seats on the raised marble.

                “I got this,” I said softly to her and shrugged off the capelet to lay it in her arms.  Gasps and shocked whispers spread around me as I reached my tendrils out in a stretch, fanning my twenty tendrils around me.  I moved the two lowest ones to touch the marble at my feet and willed it to move.  I coaxed it to change its shape, pulling it upward to form a pair of thrones with delicate scroll work framing the backs.  I felt my eyes flash to a black diamond glow and turned them on the crowd for a moment before looking to Zothie.  “Brother, will this work?”

                “Yes, Dread Sister of mine,” he said, taking the right seat as if that had been his plan all along.  As I sat beside him, he was already beckoning one of the servers. 

                Her tray was already empty as she approached him, nervous fear in her eyes.  Like the rest of the “staff” she was in black slacks, a white button-down shirt with black cummerbund and bow tie.  She gave a bow from her waist, not stepping onto the dais.

                “Good evening, my lord,” she said, and I could see her thoughts.  She was hoping she’d used the right term, praying she didn’t fall on her face before us.  Wondering why she’d been chosen. The realization she hadn’t addressed me.  “And good evening to you, um-“

                “I am the Psyche,” I said with a soft smile.  It wasn’t her fault she’d been closest to the dais.  “Please, Emma, don’t be concerned.  We’re just thirsty, and you’ve offended none of us.”

                Her eyes flashed to mine, with wide blinks that closed a second set of eyelids that some of the Deep Ones were born with.  She sputtered for a moment before finding her voice.  “Thank you, Psyche.  What can I get you?”

                At my glance, Zothie gave a small nod of approval.  “I’ll take whiskey on the rocks, the older the better.  Girls?”

                I had to pause for a moment.  What the hell was I supposed to order to drink at a fancy party in this fancy dress with everyone watching me?  Why hadn’t I asked Michelle beforehand?  “Um… what do you recommend?”

                My questioned seemed to throw Emma for a couple seconds but she recovered.  “We’ve got a fully stocked bar but the champagne punch our bar tender makes is amazing.”

                “That sounds tasty,” Luna said softly from behind me.  Her voice sounded a bit strained.

                I set a tendril to the floor to make a perch for Dani, upset at myself for forgetting that, knowing how heavy she is even in owl form.  “Same, we’ll both take the punch.  Michelle?”

                “Water please,” our assistant said as she helped Luna slip off the gauntlet once Dani was on her perch. 

                “Oh, and a bowl of punch for my pet,” I added at Dani’s silent request.  I had to chuckle at Emma’s reaction.  “She wants to try it.  And send over someone with those fancy snacks if you pass one.  She’s a bit of a foodie.”

                “I’ll have each tray come to you first,” Emma promised, amused at ‘fancy snacks.’  “And I’ll return shortly with one whisky on the rocks, two glasses of punch, one of water and a dish of punch.  Thank you for your patience.”

                She gave a bow as I shifted Dani’s perch to accommodate a platform for her food and drink. 

                “Nice girl, very composed,” Michelle noted as Emma walked away.  She pulled out her phone and jotted down a note.

                “We can’t hire everyone,” Zothie said with a laugh.

                “True,” Michelle acknowledged.  “But keeping a list of those who don’t fall into simpering pools of idiocy before you is wise, my lord.  We’ll be hosting many of these little parties as we fundraise.”

                “I could get used to that,” he said with a grin as he lounged in his throne.

                I rolled my eyes.  “Well, we’re here, we’re settled, start introductions whenever you’re ready, Michelle.”

                “Let me go get that started,” Michelle said, giving us a short bow and stepping off the dais.

                Luna leaned down to me to whisper, “Weren’t we supposed to go down the reception line?”

                “They should come to us,” I countered in a whisper. 

                “This is a position of stronger power,” Zothie added. 

                I sent a mental whisper to Michelle, “Bring over the staff first, including the DJ.  Let the snots wait.”

                She turned and bowed to me from across the room, her voice carrying over the bland instrumental music, “As you wish, My Sacred Psyche.”

                That was new but I didn’t argue.  We were grandstanding tonight, have to act like titles were old hat.

                Did I even own any hats?

                I don’t think so, I thought before corralling my wayward thoughts as Michelle started a line of people coming to us.  The first must have been sent by Emma because they brought an offering of five appetizer plates and napkins.  Then Emma returned with our drinks.  After her was a dizzying array of foods and I ended up taking an entire platter from one of the servers.  It was full of some bacon-sausage-pastry concoction that smelled like heaven.  Dani and I cleared the tray while we talked to each of the servers that were brought to us, thanking them for working on short notice, on a weekend night and so forth.  Many of them seemed confused by the thanks, as if no one had ever thanked them before.  That irritated me- the family tried to hire within the family, tonight especially, so shouldn’t they thank their workers?    We were scary gods, didn’t that warrant at least some pretend gratitude for the staff?

                After the last one left to continue their rounds, Michelle returned to ask, “Who would you like to see next?”

                “A succession of stud muffins,” Zothie crooned, eyes predatory.  “There are a few interesting minds here I’d like to talk to without singling them out just yet.”

                “They did prep a hottie parade,” she told him, rolling her eyes.  “First time meeting a god in millennia, and they want to offer you boy toys.”

                “I’m not opposed to boy or girl toys,” Zothie told her with a grin.  “Especially those two chatting to that old biddie with more plastic in her than a Barbie doll.  Bring the Psyche some- oh, myyyy, look at that, little Psyche.”

                He pointed to the man walking away from the DJ booth.  Unlike most of the tux-clad men in the room, he wore a nice black 3-piece suit that, while not tailored, fit him well across strong shoulders.  A silver vest with metallic embroidery of ocean waves took some of the severity from the cut of the jacket and pants.  He turned to talk to someone for a moment and yeah, view was nice either way.

                “Who’s that?  The DJ?”

                “He’s kinda cute in a nerdy way,” Luna said from behind me.  “Maybe it’s the glasses.  Or the messy hair.”

                I watched a woman try to argue with the DJ as he motioned toward my people.  A peek in her mind showed she wanted the music changed now, not after he met me. 

                I’d asked to talk to him.  Not her.

                I rose from my throne, irritation written on my face. 

                “Aw shit,” Michelle said, setting her water down on Dani’s stand before hurrying to my side.  “Um, Psyche, what are you doing?”

                “I plan to ask this woman why she thinks her needs are more important than mine,” I answered, loudly enough that said woman and the DJ both heard me easily.  So did a lot of the room and conversation stopped.  My tendrils rose to snap behind me, adding emphasis to my words as I came to a stop a few feet away from them.  The DJ was a cutie, rumpled black hair, warm brown eyes, an infections grin I saw drop from his face as he realized who I was.

                What I was.

                The woman, in a robin’s egg blue cocktail dress that perfect complement to her pale skin, looked to me, eyes wide before bowing from the waist.  None of the staff had bowed but she did before saying, “I merely want him to do his job.”              

                “Your Sacredness,” Michelle prompted from behind me, voice firm.

                “Your Sacredness,” the woman parroted but her heart wasn’t in it. 

                I brought a tendril up to force her face up.  I’m tall and like eye contact, so it forced her head back uncomfortably as I asked, “I told Michelle to bring me the staff so that we could thank them.  And while the DJ does his duty to family and gods, you see fit to interrupt him for your comfort.  Am I reading this correctly?”