Michelle started to reach out to me but stopped, outstretched fingers closing as she pulled back.  Good, I had to do this myself.

                When the woman didn’t answer, I slapped the floor with a tendril, causing the marble beneath us to quiver slightly.  Terror flooded through the woman I touched.  Huh, she had a phobia of earthquakes.  Probably shoulda kept her fucking mouth shut then, I thought with a wicked grin.  My voice carried through the room, shivers running through the floor for emphasis.  “I am of the Family that your family worships.  My dear, Dread Brother, Zoth Ommog has shared information with the Dunamis clan over the years that’s spread their wealth and power.  And in return for that, instead of getting the respect we’re due, you interfere with a very simple request of mine?   What ever could you fucking have to say for yourself?  Who are you, by the way?”

                I’d been trying to cuss less because Michelle thought it was abrasive but right now, abrasive sounded about right.  I did pause the earthquakes, letting the marble floor lie still once more.

                “I’m- I-I’m Sophia Dunamis,” she sputtered, looking more than a little green.  “Please don’t make the ground move anymore.”

                “For someone whose name means wisdom, you display frightfully little,” I informed her, ignoring her request.  I’d do what I had to do.  “I see in your mind you didn’t think we were the real gods returned once more, did you?  You doubted us.  My doubting Thomas as it were.”

                “I did,” she said, tears building in her eyes.   Her body began to shake, and I eased back, letting her look down again.  “A lot of us did.”

                “And now?”

                “I… I believe,” she whispered, fear flashing through her mind, praying I didn’t bring another earthquake.

                Never been prayed to before, I thought before smiling, forcing myself to look kinder than I felt.  “I’m glad we’ve cleared this up between us, Sophia.  What do you do for the family?”

                “I’m a doctor here in the city,” she told me, wrapping her arms around herself. 

                “Odd that someone with an earthquake phobia would choose to live here,” I said softly. 

                “Opening a new practice can be difficult so I went where I could find work,” Sophia said, irritation on her face. 

                “Specialty?”

                “I’m a psychiatrist,” she said.

                “Oh, that is useful, are you currently employed?”

                “Part time,” she said, again obviously irritated with that.  Irritation over being a woman, irritation over the only jobs being ones that paid starvation wages.  So much pent-up irritation in those two little words.

                “We may be able to help with that as long as you remember who I am,” I said.  “Email Michelle with your resume.  I’m working on a project to help the city and mental health care is an important aspect of that.”

                “I thought it was non-profit.”

                “It is but I’m partly funding it, so we can hire the staff we need.  I also need a…,” I paused as Zothie whispered across my mind.

                “Tell them a lawyer and an architect,” Zothie whispered.  Damn horn dog was after one of each.

                “And a lawyer and architect among many others,” I said, loud enough to carry easily. 

                I saw questions bubble in her mind, but she bowed to me again instead.  “I would be honored to be considered, My Sacredness.”

                Her heart was in it that time.  Guess employment was the way to bring her to my side, I mused, or terror.  “Email Michelle and we’ll talk more later.”

                “Do you wish to return to the dais and be introduced to the family so you can meet more of them,” Michelle asked, thoughts suggesting that I really should.

                “Of course,” I said to her before turning to the DJ.  “Walk with us?”

                “I was coming to see you,” he said as we moved through the crowd that slowly came back to life once it was clear I wasn’t going to cause more earthquakes or drama.  “Your assistant said you wanted to say hi.”

                “And maybe request better music,” I said before I could stop myself.       

                “You can’t turn this into a club event,” Michelle said, fighting a grin.

                “Not that kind,” I protested.  “Someone would break a hip trying to dance to it and we’d be liable.”

                The DJ and Michelle were chuckling as we made it to the dais.  Michelle went to stand beside Zothie but I stopped to face the DJ.  “I’m the Psyche.”

                “That must look fun on your license,” he said, still amused.

                “My name on paperwork is Cassandra Elder,” I informed him.

                “Not Dunamis?”

                “That’s the sur name my sister in the south took so I did as well to honor her,” I said, more candid than I’d intended to be.  “And your name?”

                “You’re not going to pull it from my mind?”

                “I could but I’d rather you say it,” I replied.

                “I’m Griffin Dunamis-Guizar,” he said and apparently my face was clear enough that he went on.  “My mother’s second generation from Mexico.  She wanted me to carry both family names.”

                “Are they like this family?”

                “Nah, all normies that occasionally have kids with psychic abilities,” he told me with a shrug.  “My mom ran away as a teen and only went back after she married my dad.  She’s a pyro.”

                “She likes to set things on fire?”

                “She can set things on fire,” he corrected.  “She makes her money throwing designer clay pots and glass sculptures.”

                “Thrilling,” Zothie said from behind me.  I shot him a glare and he shrugged.  “What, go let him change the music and you can chat over there.  Michelle has the first course lined up.”

                “Oh, fucking stars,” I moaned, shaking my head.  “C’mon Griff, lets get you back to your booth.”

                “You two do act like siblings,” he said aloud as if the idea was a surprise.

                “We are siblings,” I pointed out.  “Well, half but it counts.  Not my fault my egg came from a human.”

                “Here’s to the half-humans club,” he said with a grin.

                “You were scared earlier, why are you at ease now,” I asked bluntly. 

                “You weren’t mad at me,” he pointed out as we reached the booth.  “You were grandstanding.”

                “And how do you know that,” I asked, voice velvet over edged steel. 

                “You valued her possible contribution to your organization more than her life or your pride,” Griffin reminded me.  “I could see that, even if some of the other guys in here thought it was just a cat fight.”

                I didn’t like being so transparent.  Maybe that’s how I made most people feel?  “Never fought a cat before, we don’t have one.”

                “I imagine it would try to pick a fight with your owl,” he said with a grin, clearing the lock screen on his computer.  “Any requests?”

                “Something with a beat at least,” I said with a sigh.  “Michelle’s right, can’t go too far into the realm of fun but we can at least do better than boring ass generics, can’t we?”

                “As you wish,” he said, bowing to me for the first time.  He’d bowed to Zothie, everyone had, but not to me.  He rose and pushed some buttons on his laptop.  The classical piece faded out to be replaced with what I saw in his mind was named, “This is My Show.”

                Apt.

                I gave him a grin before asking before I could stop myself, “I have to go say hi to the big wigs, but would you like to dance later?  If you can set a playlist and walk away, I mean.”

                “I-um” how do I say yes without sounding like a fanboy- “I would be honored.”

                I smiled, both at what he did and what he didn’t say.  “See ya later, Griff.”

                “Till then, Psyche.”

                I walked back to the dais, moving to the beat of the song as I went.  I felt him think that the dress did fantastic things for my ass, which made me chuckle as I mounted the dais.  I accepted my glass of punch from Luna, who’d been holding it before taking my throne once more.

                “Is he your type,” Zothie asked, with a sly grin.

                “I’m not sure I even have something so solid as a type,” I admitted, running a finger around the rim of the glass.  The fine crystal sang sweetly to me.  “But he is interesting and didn’t seem too phased by my little display.”

                “It did have a desired effect,” he said before looking to where Michelle was leading a line of men to us.  “Oh and here’s Michelle with some sweets.”

                “Horn dog,” I said with a laugh, shaking my head.  I gestured to Michelle, beckoning her forth to introduce them all to us. 

                After the cuties, a couple of whom found themselves with Zothie’s personal request to come back around later, there was a parade of managers, VP’s and then the rest of the older Deep Ones of the family.   Many of them bore the mark of the Deep Ones rather strongly, eyes wider spaced than was typical for humans with a reddish tinge to many of them.  A few had had obvious dental work done to file down points, nearly lipless mouths and soft chins.  I could see traces of plastic surgery on many of them, obviously done to appear more human. 

                “We must employ an army of surgeons,” I mused aloud as the last of the older Deep Ones returned to their tables. 

                “The family provides scholarships to those who go into medical fields,” Michelle informed us, taking a seat on the floor at my feet.  I frowned but felt her thought that it emphasized how close we were.  I shook my head and shifted the floor beneath her to bring her up into a normal sitting position on a stool.  It wasn’t as fancy as my chair but at least she wasn’t on the floor like a dog or something. 

                “You are my dear assistant and friend, not a dog,” I whispered. 

                “This is comfier,” she said, slightly unnerved. 

                “Sorry,” I told her, dipping my head. “I just didn’t want you on the floor.  I don’t like that for you.  You mean to much to me, to us both.”

                “It’s nice to know,” she said, softly pleased.  “So you’ve been introduced to everyone here, though there’s apparently an area manager running late.  His wife’s pregnant.”

                “And that’s cause to be late to meet their gods,” Zothie asked, eyes narrowed.  

                “Don’t ask me, I’m just the messenger,” Michelle said, raising a hand.  “I know better.”

                “So should they,” he said with the growl of eons rumbling in his throat. 

                “Pretty bad manners to be late,” I agreed.  Little did I know how bad their manners were going to be.