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  Mithnite was freaked, Kate too, when they discovered what I'd done. It wasn't the violence, it was the cruelty of what had been done to me that shocked them the most, but also how I'd acted. Going all alpha male and treating them like they were less than my equals, mine to command. I'd ordered them into the house while I took care of things, acting unfairly and with a coldness that surprised us all. It was out of character and wrong; I knew that but did it anyway.

  I couldn't help myself. It was the only way I could manage the situation and not lose my mind completely. Once it was over, all I was left with was a deep sense of betrayal and an emptiness inside. And a hatred for how I'd treated those I loved, of myself, and of the woman who had fooled me and made me act that way. Brought out the very worst because I'd thought I had something I didn't. I'd opened myself to her, thought my life was more complete, and then it had all been snatched away in the most heart-wrenching of ways imaginable.

  The first few weeks, okay, months, after that had been tough for everyone. We got through it and we soldiered on, but things weren't quite the same. Something was missing and something was out of whack. I was distant although I tried to be my usual self, and knew it wasn't fair. Heck, I'd been a nightmare for five years as I shunned magic, and then there I was, back using again. That first job had led to so much madness and then so much heartache by the time it was all over. Made me wonder if I hadn't made the wrong decisions entirely.

  I saw how Mithnite looked at me sometimes with a hint of fear and it broke my heart. Kate was different, too. Mindful of what she said. Not subservient, but she kept a little distance for fear of how I'd react. As if the closeness would be a reminder of what I'd done, what I'd lost, and was careful not to do anything that would result in me turning cold and becoming something I'd hated. The kind of man that bossed around family and treated them like he was the decision maker, the ruler of their lives, and they were merely a sideshow to what was important. His life.

  That wasn't the case at all. I'd do anything for them, for my family and friends, and Mithnite was both of those things now. I knew he'd worried I would reject him, send him away after the betrayal, but if anything it made him more a part of the family.

  Slowly it faded, the watchfulness, the unease, and we settled into family life together. I did jobs, thankfully nothing that got me into quite as much trouble, and the old Faz slowly returned.

  And when I thought I was ready, that maybe she would put up with me, and I might be good enough for her, although I knew I never would be, Kate and I got married.

  No frills, nothing fancy, just a registry office with a few friends and family. Dancer gave Kate away, Mithnite was my best man, and we had one helluva celebration at the new Council HQ where nearly every magic user and abuser, every supernatural creature, every Hidden in Cardiff and beyond partied the night away.

  It was a blast, and it finally allowed us all to put the past behind us. We took a few weeks to get used to married life then I booked the honeymoon. Kate had said she wanted somewhere warm and far away, but I knew she'd stress about Mithnite if we were too distant and wouldn't be happy laying on a beach for a week. What better place than Paris? Full of culture, great food, and wine. And we'd be together, away from any of the nonsense back home.

  Looked like Dancer had interfered, though, probably trying to make it perfect. Yeah, nice job, mate. Not.

  I pushed thoughts of the past aside. This was what was important and I would damn well make the most of this time we had. Just us. I put my arm around Kate, squeezed her tight, smiled and said, "I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  We admired Paris as a troll drove us through the chaos and somehow made it to the hotel in one piece.

  "Let the honeymoon begin," I said as we waved at the retreating rear of the horse and were helped with our luggage by an enthusiastic bellboy.

  "It looks expensive. I can't wait," said Kate.

  We looked up at the hotel, eyes sparkling, smiles plastered on our faces like the happy newlyweds we truly were.

  In we went.

  Settling In

  We halted halfway across the very impressive foyer, taking in not the gilt work, the paintings, the comfortable and expensive looking sofas, the impressive baroque architecture or the plush, crimson carpet. Not the sweeping staircase nor the impressive decorated ceiling. No, we took in what can only be described as a Hidden menagerie.

  "Don't tell me," sighed Kate, lip twitching, shoulders slumping, "Dancer recommended it, right?"

  "What!? No, I... er..." Damn, was nothing going to go right?

  "What? Come on, you may as well tell me."

  "I booked the whole package through the Chemist." Even saying it sounded stupid; that's what you get for helping friends out.

  "Haha, very funny. No, seriously." Kate gave me one of those looks. I was now certain she'd been practicing with Grandma. The women in my family had it down to an art now. There was definitely a conspiracy.

  "Really, I did. You know he's been down since that incident at the Hidden Club and now he's not doing his stand-up I thought this would cheer him up."

  "Faz, that's sweet trying to help him out because he's decided to be a travel agent, but didn't you think to check this would just be a normal hotel, for Regulars, not this lot?" Kate waved a hand to encompass the rather eclectic mix of people and creatures who were clearly residents of the hotel.

  "What do you think? I just, you know, booked a nice honeymoon. No expense spared," I added, trying to save myself some grief. I couldn't believe it, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and we hadn't even booked in yet. "I told him to get us a nice flight, a hotel near the sights, a large suite, best there was, and that we wanted a quiet place that wouldn't get us into trouble."

  "And this is the Chemist's idea of a quiet place?"

  "It is near the sights," I offered optimistically.

  Kate remained quiet, never a good sign, and we tried to gather ourselves, brace ourselves more like, for the chaos that presented itself. The hotel was moderately busy, that wasn't the problem, it was the clientele. I'd expected something typically French, which this was, full of people on short breaks, plenty of tourists—Brits, other Europeans, Americans, and Japanese like you usually find in popular cities—but this was not one of those places. Not at all.

  Sure, judging by the accents and the languages spoken they were from aforesaid places, but human they were not. Or not Regulars.

  Without even looking deeply, I saw wizards, witches, all manner of magic users. There were goblins and gremlins and young vampires and trolls. Ancient zombies falling to bits, tiny sprites, and I'm sure I even spotted an elf before it disappeared into an elevator. There were demons and countless beasties, every creature you could imagine and then some.

  I had never, in all my hundred and some years, seen such a mixture of Hidden in one space. Well, apart from the time I was sentenced to death by the Hidden Council for a crime I didn't commit.

  "I'm gonna kill him," I muttered, watching with dismay as the bellboy, who now I looked was clearly a Hidden youth probably earning extra cash to fund his training, began pushing the trolley with our luggage over to an elevator. He dropped a bag but was oblivious and before I could catch him the door closed and he was gone.

  I grabbed the suitcase, went back to Kate and said, "Come on, let's check in."

  "You are not serious?" she asked.

  "Kate, it's summer in Paris, do you really think we're going to get another suite, or a room of any kind, without booking well in advance?" I wasn't happy, but this was the reality of the situation. It was this or slum it somewhere nobody wanted to stay.

  "Fine, but there better be chocolate."

  We checked in. The concierge spoke with a thick French accent made less intelligible because half his face was drooping down to his shoulder and I knew exactly why the Chemist had booked us in here. Probably had a scam going with this dude. Ghouls stick together, and they undoubtedly took a cut of the proce
eds somehow, or traded potions. What I couldn't figure out for the life of me was why the hell would anyone employ a ghoul as the face of the hotel?

  But that's the Hidden world for you. If nothing else, we're all for equal rights. We don't care if you're male, female, fat, thin, ugly, or beautiful. You can get blasted with the dark arts, eaten, stabbed, sent to hell, tortured, loved, caressed, adored, all of that stuff, no matter who or what you are.

  Yeah, sometimes equality sucks.

  And Relax

  I tipped the bellboy waiting outside our room, took the luggage in myself, and as the door closed Kate and I smiled at each other before heaving a sigh of relief.

  "We made it," I said grinning wildly.

  "At last." Kate nodded in approval at the luxury surrounding us.

  "Faz, what are you doing?" she said in shock.

  "I am removing all of my clothes and then I am going to remove yours, and then I plan to ravage you on that bed, assuming there is a bed underneath all those cushions."

  "Oh, right."

  "No objections?" I asked, already pulling my socks off.

  Kate held my gaze and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. "No objections."

  There was a bed under the cushions, and for the rest of the day, all through the night, and halfway through the following day we didn't exit the room.

  We were on honeymoon, after all.

  We made love, we talked, we covered a lot of things we hadn't discussed fully at home as something always seemed to come up that required our attention. It's only when you know you can hang out and have zero obligations, not even cooking, that you can truly talk, take as long as is needed to get to the bottom of things. Work through all the crap everyone has going on in their lives, not just us Hidden.

  It brought us closer than we'd ever been, allowed us to open up in truly intimate ways, and I believe we could have happily remained in that room for the entire week and not regretted it.

  But, as is the way in our life, that was not to be.

  When the window smashed in the front room, and the noise and heat of Paris in all its glory rushed in to ruin the peace and the cool temperature, it was definitely time to get out of bed.

  I ran naked into the living room as my eyes snapped hard to black. Kate was beside me in a heartbeat, hair dancing wildly as she completed the vampire shimmer shuffle. She looked sexy as hell with bouncing bits still bouncing and wobbly bits still wobbling, and I wondered what bits were left to lick. Understandably distracted, I lost my concentration for a moment but soon got it back as the brown ball on the floor, looking like an oversized hedgehog curled up tight, slowly unfurled and said, "I have a message for you."

  Kate and I did a double-take at what genuinely was a large hedgehog, and stared down at the strangely humanoid face of the bizarre, bristly creature.

  "And what message might that be?" I asked suspiciously, magic building momentum, my ink pulsing as it shunted powerful forces through my system. Priming me for action and for a bit of the old blasting.

  "Queen Morag would like the pleasure of your company," the hedgehog squeaked pompously as if we were truly honored.

  "Is that an invitation or an order?" I growled.

  The hedgehog half curled into a ball, afraid because of my tone.

  "Faz, you're scaring it," scalded Kate.

  "Good, it just smashed our window and told us what to do."

  "I am Jellybean," Piped up the hedgehog, words muffled from the way it was curled up.

  "Jellybean? What kind of name is that?" I asked.

  "Jerry Beam," it said, unfurling and looking up nervously. "Sorry about the window. I, er, didn't want to draw attention to myself."

  "You could have just knocked," offered Kate.

  "Bit difficult when you're thrown," said Jerry.

  "Thrown? Who the hell threw you?" I asked, moving over to the gaping, jagged hole and peering down to the busy street below.

  On the opposite side of the road was the troll who had driven us, one eye shielding its eyes, shaking out an arm. "Don't answer. It was that damn troll, Kate, the one from earlier."

  "Ahem, if I may?" declared the hedgehog, now messing with my head. Talking hedgehogs? What was going on? I knew they did things differently in France, but this was taking it to extremes.

  "What?" I snapped.

  "Do you accept the invitation?" Jerry Beam asked in a timid voice that sounded truly scared. Beyond scared, terrified.

  Kate and I exchanged glances, then both shook our heads. No way did we accept. The last thing we wanted was to go see the Queen.

  "No," I said.

  "Yes," said Kate.

  "Huh? We can't, why should we?" I asked.

  "Seems rude to refuse. Might be fun."

  "What are you talking about?" Kate was acting weird, being too polite by far. "No, Jerry, we aren't coming."

  "Please, you must. Queen Morag is having a party this evening and very much requests your presence. Please," the hedgehog pleaded.

  "Look, mate, er, Jerry, I don't know how, or why you look like this and why you came through my window, but we're on honeymoon. We have no intention of going to some freaky-ass witch bitch party just because she sent you along to tell us to come."

  "But you must." Tiny tears fell from the pink eyes of the hedgehog and it sobbed like a child as it looked at us.

  "Sorry, no," said Kate. She looked to me with concern and mouthed a silent, "Come on. We should say yes."

  I shrugged. This was weird even for me, and I know weird. I basically live in Weirdsville.

  "Please," screeched the hedgehog.

  "No, now bugger off," I shouted, wishing I had my clothes on.

  "Faz!" Kate shoved me hard and landed on top of me, ten feet away from the window and the hedgehog.

  For a moment I enjoyed it, her sat astride me, breasts bouncing and close to my face, but the fun was soon cut short as we turned and watched as a small Honda scooter sailed through the trashed window and with a sound of crunching metal and a terrified squeak it landed on the hedgehog man.

  We scrambled to our feet and dashed to the window. The troll was still there, so was a woman with a pair of binoculars. As I readied for action, Kate put a hand to my arm and said, "You've got no clothes on and she'll be gone in a moment, look."

  She was right, the woman had disappeared, the troll too.

  We turned back into the room and I peeled the bike off the hedgehog. Only it was no longer a tiny ball of prickles, it was a man. A very dead, very mangled, very crushed about the head man.

  Written on his torso, or should I say cut into his torso, were the words, "DON'T BE LATE!"

  "Shit," I moaned, as it seemed more than appropriate.

  Several Issues

  "There's a dead man that used to be a hedgehog in my room," I said to the concierge, having decided a direct approach was best.

  He raised an eyebrow, the only one he had, his whole face pulling up as if tied to the thick caterpillar type thing. "Does sir also have any additional items in his room he wishes removed? Assuming you do require removal of said man-hedgehog?"

  "Of course I want the bloody thing removed. I'm on honeymoon!" Yes, I was flustered, and yes, I know it sounded like if I wasn't on vacation then I would have loved for the hybrid to remain, but trust me, I didn't. "And, er, yeah, there's a scooter in there too."

  "What a trying afternoon this is," he said, scribbling something in a ledger before snapping it shut as I tried to peek.

  "You're telling me." There was an awkward silence and I wasn't sure what to say. But he seemed to be taking it in his stride so I added, a suspicion coming to me, "Has this happened to anyone else today?"

  He leaned forward, resting an elongated and waxy looking arm on the counter, and said, "Between you and me, yes, it has. Rather a few guests have been unhappy about miscellaneous hybrids being thrown through their windows. And those that refused a certain invitation are keen to change rooms."

  "And did the others find something c
arved into the body of the thing thrown through their window?" I already knew the answer but it's always best to double-check these things. I've been known to be wrong, just now and then.

  "The message was rather insistent," he said.

  "Um, okay." I straightened and spoke in a normal voice, realizing I, too, had been whispering. "Please sort it out, and we'd like a new room."

  "Sorry, sir, we are fully booked. But we have men at the hotel to repair the damage in a timely fashion. May I suggest a visit to the Eiffel Tower while this inconvenience is remedied. It will only take a few hours."

  "Yeah, great. Thanks."

  I wandered off in a daze, amazed the British politeness came out so strongly. What the hell was I saying thanks for? There was a dead dude with a warning carved into his chest in my room.

  As I headed to the elevator, feeling half undressed without a tie and my jacket on, just a white shirt—this was a vacation after all so I wasn't expecting blood—I checked out the other guests. Maybe this was why so many Hidden were hanging out in the lobby. And come to think of it, a lot of them were looking pensive, downright nervous.

  I turned around and went back to the front desk.

  "Yes, sir, how may I help you?" asked the concierge.

  "Huh? I was just here a moment ago. Don't you remember?"

  "Sir?"

  "Never mind. Look, what's the deal with Queen Morag? Why so keen to get people to her whatever it is this evening?"

  "Why, didn't you know? Tonight is her birthday party. Six hundred exactly. At least she will be in a few days. A grand occasion. She does like to play her games, sends those that have crossed her to give out invitations. If they get a yes, they survive and can be changed back to their usual form, if not..." He made a slicing motion across his throat.

  "Ugh," I grunted, and wandered off again.

  Just what kind of hotel was this? The dude didn't seem bothered at all by the chaos, and his stupid French accent was getting right on my chesticles.

  I missed home. At least there we smashed your face in with our fists if we wanted someone's attention, this was just trying way too hard.