Home > The Eternal Underboss

The Eternal Underboss
Author: Esther E. Schmidt

 


CHAPTER ONE


– MAZE –

 

“I can’t believe it. Zipporah, you were right. This will all be over in a matter of hours and then you won’t be our responsibility any longer,” my father says with glee and he even has the nerve to rub his hands together along with it.

Harsh, Dad. A very fatherly thing to say to your only daughter; how glad you are to get rid of me. I rub the dermal piercing on my breastbone and keep my face void of emotions. I’ve had years and years of experience to perfect facial expressions and adapt to any situation.

Growing up as the daughter of the fairy king–who many also consider to be a powerful mafia man–raises expectations. Especially if you’re born without wings and with abilities that scare the hell out of every single fairy–including your own parents–due to some crazy legend.

My mother couldn’t handle it and killed herself. I was eight-years-old when she jumped off the highest tower of our castle. There were two swords in her hands, which she fell on, and beheaded herself. Need I mention she had wings but didn’t use them?

Yeah, totally overkill and quite the traumatic experience as a kid. It caused me to beg my father to bind my abilities so I couldn’t hurt anyone else ever again. It’s the reason I have several piercings with an added mineral to weaken me.

It was his idea to give me a choker, one crafted by a fairy jeweler who entwined the mineral and added a remote my father has full control of. If necessary, he can hit the remote and the choker will release the mineral straight into my veins. All of this so my father is less scared of me.

Or so I thought because his reaction just now lets me know he’s extremely excited to dump me in someone else’s lap; ridding himself of the responsibility he’s incapable of handling. It says a lot about how the man feels about me.

Hell, it says a lot about me as well since he sees me as a nuclear bomb. Which I probably am but that’s beside the point. Our breed is vicious, ruthless, and we mainly stick to our own kind because of this little character trait.

When my mother killed herself, my father looked into the history of our ancestors and stumbled onto a legend where a fairy child would be born without wings. One who possesses great powers but who could easily be turned evil and unleash death and destruction upon her own breed to create hell on Earth.

Like I mentioned, my father is not only a king among our kind but his powers are more similar to those of a mafia boss. Even more when it comes to our traditions and finding his daughter a suitable husband.

Hence the reason we were able to slip into this gathering where supernatural mafia members come together to find a suitable partner for an arranged marriage to benefit both parties. A complete contradiction for our kind since we never mingle with other supernaturals but there isn’t a fairy suitable in our kingdom my father could dump me on. Special thanks to the crazy legend.

“Good. I’m sure Maze is just as happy to get rid of your insensitive ass,” my one and only friend, Zipporah, states with a snap.

“Don’t call her Maze,” my father hisses, looking in a completely different direction than Zipporah is standing because she’s made herself invisible and he has no idea where she is.

Zipporah is actually the one who suggested we come here. Of course, she has ulterior motives. Zipporah got wind of the fact that the mafia family organizing these gatherings works with a motorcycle club filled with centaur shifters.

She’s a horse shifter herself but a completely different and unique breed. Though, she’s curious about any horse shifter kind she can run into so she didn’t want to pass up an opportunity to maybe meet a man herself.

Talking about meeting a man…I never imagined it would work; find myself a husband, let alone run into an eternal mate. Especially when said eternal mate is a vampire and not a fairy like me. A turmoil of emotion and added confusion races through me as we wait in a small office.

An office we were ushered into shortly after my gaze collided with honey-colored eyes. Eyes that quickly started to flare with a red glow, giving me the impression he wanted to sink his teeth into my jugular and drain me dry with a few mere sips.

Butterflies start a slow dance low in my belly with the intense memory of how my body heated with the awareness I found my mate. The way he spun around and rushed out of the room indicated he too was aware of this fact as well.

I’ve only read and heard stories about finding your true mate. It’s the one person who is your counterpart and a perfect match to create offspring. Something similar to love at first sight and yet, in my humble opinion, this has nothing to do with love.

It’s more of a lust thing. A chemical reaction to let your body flare with instant attraction to mate and multiply. Two creatures–who both roam this planet for an eternity–find their counterpart to share their lives together.

I considered it a long shot; finding a mate. Let alone finding him here in a gathering for arranged marriages. A vampire for heaven’s sake, talk about screwed up legends. I know for a fact there is one about vamps draining fairies since we smell intoxicating to them so they can’t stop feeding after one taste.

Ugh. I thought this night was going to be more like a night out of my golden cage–since my father never lets me leave the house–and to entertain Zipporah. She wanted to get an eyeful of sexy centaur shifters and maybe hook up with one for some fun. Frustration wells up and it’s mostly about the unexpected situation I’m now caught up in.

Crazy, I know, especially since my father brought me here to find a husband. But like I mentioned; my father considers me a ticking nuclear bomb so I never expected to switch “owners.” Yes, weird choice of words, but that’s what it feels like because I’m sure my father will hand over the remote to my future husband at some point.

“Hey,” Zipporah says as she squeezes my arm and pulls me back to the here and now. “Are you okay?”

Hell no. I’m pissed, frustrated, and feel utterly defenseless. I’m pretty sure this moment will be remembered as me being passed over from one prison to another.

Though, it doesn’t do shit for me right now so I take a deep breath and give her a hint of a smile. “I’m perfectly fine.”

The door swings open and a man with brown hair–shorter on the sides and longer on top–strides inside. He’s bare-chested, wearing a leather cut with patches on it, showing off his bulging muscles. Even though the man is wearing low hanging jeans, it’s clear the man has strong muscled thighs as he strides into the room with determination.

Zipporah releases a soft, flustered breath beside me, drawing the man’s attention my way. But, instead of looking at me, he narrows his eyes and stares into the empty space beside me; right at the spot where my best friend is standing.

Zipporah has the ability to cloak herself and make herself invisible, they will only hear, and therefore notice her, if she speaks. The man slowly tilts his head and his nostrils flare. It’s as if he’s looking right at her and can see through the veil she put in place to cloak herself.

He’s about to step into her direction but my father blocks his path and throws him the question, “When will he be here?”

He. My mate I only so much as collided eyes with. Funny. Neither of us know the name of the man who practically ran from me while we are supposed to spend an eternity together.

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