With god’s ears she listened to the merciless threats of the familiar; through god’s eyes she watched as cat transformed into woman. But it was the mind of Croe that went cold, weighing her options and debating which would bring the least calamity to her, later. One thing was clear: it would be impossible to convince Sperantia that she was truly Mallos, in soul as well as body. Everything she knew of the Spanish god was hearsay or legend, or the sterile, necessary details that a killer might know about a king. She was unprepared to adopt his mannerisms, his speech patterns – she had not anticipated attending this masquerade. But, though she could not ease the cat’s suspicions, neither could she allow her to follow on her heels. That left a different kind of convincing. Or a fight.
The facade seemed to crack.
The hand of Mallos closed around the asiatic neck of his familiar, now so conveniently placed before him. He pushed her back into the corner of a tall hedge, brought his face very close to hers, and squeezed.
“Actually, I was off-planet only a few hours ago, sweetheart,” Croe growled, the inflection in her voice decidedly different than it had been moments before. The breath of Mallos was warm against his familiar’s face. “You have just made a harmless situation very, very dangerous for everyone you love. This can go one of two ways. Either you scamper back to the Pantheon where you belong, and keep your mouth shut, or you try to fight me. Your power is no match for mine; I will blow you to oblivion. While you are busy pulling your particles back together, I will kill the royal family. I will level this castle. I will raze the temple. And then, just to make sure we are perfectly clear, I will dance flamenco in a pit of hungry crocodiles.” The head of Mallos tilted in a way that was characteristic of the woman possessing him; hawk-like and sharp. His face was ice, his eyes were flint. The voice coming out of the body of Mallos was full of darkness. “I am your fairy, Sperantia. If I kill this body, your fairy dies.”
His hand loosened, his thumb caressed the clavicle of the newly-minted cat-fairy. Eyes like coal squinted thoughtfully at the almost imperceptible twitch of her jugular. Stay out of my way,” he said softly, “I will not offer you mercy twice.”
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