Though it was sort of cool to be able to say that I knew a god.
“So, speed dating?” Delia asked. “Maybe your god will even be there.”
“I doubt that,” I responded. “And he’s not mine anyway. Why would he be?”
“You’re not going to believe it until he has his tongue down your throat, clearly,” Anise responded.
I snorted. “Please, that’s never going to happen. But you know what, sure, let’s go speed dating. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I find some sexy single to spend the night with.” Delia let out a satisfied smile.
“Wouldn’t that be the best case?”
“Oh no, that would be finding my mate.” She shrugged.
“You’re lucky you have one,” Anise muttered. “I wish I was a shifter.”
“It comes with its perks,” Delia responded with a satisfied smile. “But there are some not-so-good parts too.”
“Like?”
“The hair. Do you have any idea how much of it there is when you have wolf genes? I hate it.” She lifted her hand to her thick light-blonde hair and ran a hand through it.
“I can brew you a potion that might help,” I offered.
“Thanks, but there’s no need. I’ve tried just about all of the solutions I can find already. Sometimes it works for a day, but then it fades away. You get used to it after a bit.”
“Well, the offer’s there if you need it,” I promised.
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll probably change my mind if I have a hot date I need to prepare for.” She grabbed her glass of wine from the table and drank it down in a few gulps.
I picked up my own but drank it more slowly.
“We should book a taxi if we want to get to speed dating on time,” Anise said. “Or early, I want to scope out the competition.”
I shook my head in bemusement. “Surely this isn’t the best way to actually meet someone?”
“Maybe not, but it’s supposed to be fun,” Delia responded.
I could think of a lot of things that were more fun than the idea of sitting across from dozens of strangers while making the same small talk over and over again, but if I was never going to be able to do anything about my feelings towards Baal, then I might as well try for something else, even if I debated the effectiveness of the method when it came to actually finding someone to date.
Anise tapped a few buttons on her phone. “Okay, the taxi will be here in about half an hour. Is anyone hungry? I don’t have much in, but I’m pretty sure there are some nachos and dip in the cupboard.”
“Oh yeah, good plan, I’ve been drinking on an empty stomach, and that never ends well,” Delia said.
“I could eat some,” I agreed with a smile to my friend.
“All right, drunk nibbles coming right up.” She headed to the kitchen.
Unable to resist, I typed Baal’s name back into the search on my phone and flicked through the image results. Now that the shock had worn off a bit, I was almost certain I could see the resemblance between the handsome man I knew from the copy shop, and the various statues and carvings of the storm, weather, and fertility god the internet proclaimed him to be.
The only question remaining was what I was going to do with that information, because I had absolutely no idea. Was it acceptable to just ask him about it?
I dismissed the notion. He’d never once told me who he was beyond his name and profession, and he knew that I was a witch and aware of the paranormal world. If he’d wanted me to know, he’d have said something, I was certain of it.
A little voice in the back of my mind whispered that there was a chance that was what he wanted to tell me when he’d said we should go for coffee, but I ignored it. He was probably just being polite and didn’t actually mean it. It was far too close to a date-like situation and there was no way a man like Baal would be interested in a random witch like me.
Especially if he was a powerful god.
It would be better for both of us if I simply forgot the way I was feeling about him and focused on everything else that was going on in my life, that way I wouldn’t drive myself crazy with something that probably wasn’t even a slight possibility.
CHAPTER 4
Chelsea
Despite my reluctance over the idea of coming to speed dating, I had to admit that the atmosphere inside DeLux Café was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, and it was going to be easy to get caught up in what was going on. Everywhere I looked, there were paranormals chatting to one another, though I couldn’t for the life of me tell who was what. Which also meant that I had no idea if Anise and Delia were right about there being gods here. It would probably help if I knew what any of them looked like, but without seeing carvings right next to faces, it was impossible to tell.
“Have you seen him yet?” Delia asked as she appeared beside me, making me jump. “Sorry.”
“Have I seen who?” I asked.
“Baal.”
“I’m not looking for him,” I lied, though there was at least a small part of me that was hoping he was here and every time I saw someone that even slightly looked at him, I did a double-take, only to end up disappointed.
A bell rang, signalling the start of the rounds.
“Come on, we should sit next to each other,” Delia said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the seating.
“What about Anise?”
“I don’t know where she’s gotten to, but she’ll show up. Maybe she’s skipping this part because she’s found someone already.”
I snorted. “That would be so like her.”
“It would, wouldn’t it?”
We sat in two of the available seats on the women’s side and waited for the bell to ring again so that we could strike up a conversation.
Nerves fluttered in my stomach as I considered the upcoming event. I’d never done anything like this before and I had no idea how I was actually supposed to do this.
The bell went and I turned to the man opposite me, smiling. “Hi, I’m Chelsea.”
“George,” he responded. “Which is a dumb name for a dragon shifter.”
I chuckled. “It’s not the best.”
“Dad thought it would be funny.”
“Ah, named after a Dad joke, that does suck. But if it helps, I think George suits you.” Perhaps it was the open-necked shirt that seemed to be impeccably ironed, or the way he’d done his hair, but his name fit him.
“So, what do you do?” he asked.
“I work in photography.” The answer stretched the truth a bit, but it wasn’t technically a lie, and it certainly sounded better than me saying that I was a shop assistant. “What about you?”
“Banking. I know it’s boring.”
“Not if you enjoy it,” I responded. “Anything can be interesting in that case.”
“Mmm, maybe. So what’s the best thing you’ve photographed?” he asked.
I tried to scramble for a lie, but the bell went off before I could think of one, saving me from answering. I needed to come up with some better answers if I didn’t want to keep making things up. Maybe it was better to say that I was a shop assistant at all.