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What an arrogant little shit. “Clearly, you’re not important enough in the scheme of things for Min to think it worth mentioning to you,” Ethan bluffed, though really, he had no clue if that was true. Had Min ever dated this creep? She’d told him she’d never dated, and he had believed her, but… why then was Quentin Jordak’s reaction off the scale? His last comment clearly hit the mark because Quentin’s face was now a shade of blotchy purple. One of the men touched him on the arm, whispered something in his ear. At last, he seemed to pull himself into line.
“How long did you say you have you been dating?” he asked stiffly.
“Seven months.”
“How did you meet?”
Ethan had practiced this enough now with Min, he could almost see the day in his mind’s eye. “I walked into the shop looking for a book for my brother’s studies. I have it here on my computer diary.” He turned the screen around for them to see. Ebony had very cleverly marked a heart emoji on his diary entry seven months ago, and the word “Min” against it. “I guess you’d say it was love at first sight—on both our parts.”
A muscle ticked madly in Quentin’s jaw, his mouth a thin, tight line.
Ethan continued with his scripted lines. “Min is a private person. My life is, as you know, led very much in the public eye here in Motham, and it’s a big step, going public, with our relationship. But with the policy changes, Min insisted. She wants to support everything I do, and she knows the new airport means a lot to me.”
Quentin made a choking sound as he tapped something viciously into his laptop.
Levitt took over. “Proof of legitimacy and long-term commitment is essential. Firstly, we will require Minerva’s signature on a monster/human de facto statement, acknowledging that she is, of her own free will, cohabitating with you. We also will seek proof that you are living together as a couple, if you understand my gist.”
Ethan inclined his head.
“You are aware that the Council of Towns reserves the right to do an inspection to prove the legitimacy of your relationship.”
“I understand.”
Quentin butted in aggressively, “You will be given no notice. Our officials will turn up whenever they choose. And they can and will investigate your most intimate living arrangements. There will be no chance to cover your tracks.”
Ethan stared him down. “I expect the courtesy of an appointment being made in advance.”
A little sneer shaped Quentin’s top lip. “If you want the privilege of buying our lands, we reserve the right to walk into your home and prove you are not just another…”
“Another what?” Ethan said, cold as steel.
“I think we’ll leave it there, Quentin,” Levitt muttered.
Quentin looked like he was attempting to swallow a knife. Finally, he gritted out, “Anyone can sign a piece of paper. We will go to whatever lengths we need to prove you are not bluffing. Interviewing family members, turning up at any time of day—or night—inspecting your shared quarters. Every little detail will be examined. Humans don’t need a permit to enter monster homes.” His supercilious smile spread. “We are not going to be duped, Mr Blade. Do you understand?”
Ethan gave a casual shrug. “Buy yourself a copy of the Motham Times tomorrow. I think our interview will give you plenty of proof of our legitimacy.”
Quentin Jordak looked like he might just vault over the desk and clout him.
If he did… well, bring it on. Ethan would be very happy to singe the thin hair off his feeble human skull.
“Someone from the Council will visit Minerva tomorrow for her signature,” Levitt said, then he stood and snapped his briefcase shut.
Ethan rose. He knew better than to hold out his hand. Humans never shook hands with monsters. Except Min. Min hadn’t hesitated. “I trust representatives from the Council will be attending the Blade gala ball this year,” he said.
Levitt nodded tersely.
Ethan swallowed a cynical sneer. Yeah, you bet they’d be there. The humans wouldn’t be able to resist: the food, the entertainment, the glitz and glamor. They’d never have hosted anything like that in their conservative little municipal buildings.
“Goodbye, gentlemen. Sonia will see you out,” he said to their departing figures.
Quentin didn’t say a word as he stalked out.
Rude little shit.
After they’d left, Ethan threw himself down in his chair, grabbed a pen and started madly flicking the top. The frown deepened on his browbone as he tried to untangle the meeting he’d just had.
He didn’t like this squirming feeling in his gut, the tightness in his temples when he thought of Quentin’s reaction when he’d mentioned Min.
