Page 45 of Dark Chains: First Link
"It's suffering," Drova corrected. "It's not going to last through all ten nails. The motor is going to overheat and die."
The nail edge began to smooth, slowly, reluctantly, as if the Kra-ell keratin was putting up a fight but gradually conceding to the diamond-coated head. Frankie worked carefully, adjusting pressure and angle, and after two minutes, Drova's thumbnail looked smooth.
"Well?" Frankie held up Drova's hand for inspection.
Drova examined her thumbnail with genuine surprise. "It actually looks nice. It's smooth."
"The machine lives," Angelica declared triumphantly.
"For now. Frankie still has nine more nails to go."
"Bring them on," Frankie said.
As Frankie reached the last nail, the betting pool settled its accounts, with Laleh's side collecting.
"Now to the polish," Frankie said. "I assume you want clear?"
Drova let out a long-suffering sigh. "You assume right."
Donya and Laleh started arguing about whether the bet had been fairly won since the machine had struggled. Azadeh was counting small bills. Frankie was preparing the nail polish, and Drova was sitting at the manicure table, submitting to the treatment she had never wanted because she'd lost a bet she had entered willingly, because she was here for Arezoo.
The tears tried to escape again.
Arezoo pressed her lips together and blinked rapidly, staring at the ceiling until the pressure behind her eyes subsided. She would not cry. Angelica had threatened consequences, which involved another session with a makeup brush and zero sympathy.
17
SYSSI
Syssi stood near the edge of the green with Kian, a glass of sparkling water in her hand, watching the crowd gather, and doing the thing she loved most at events like these, which was observing.
She had been a people-watcher long before she'd met Kian and had become immortal, and the transition from watching humans to watching immortals hadn't changed the fundamental pleasure of the activity. People were people, regardless of their lifespan, and their behavior at parties was universally predictable. The extroverts gravitated toward the center. The introverts claimed tables near the periphery. Some showed off, others judged.
Arezoo's mother and aunts were constantly inspecting the buffet even though the Odus had it covered.
The afternoon was warm and clear, typical weather for Southern California, and the village residents were arriving in clusters, dressed in their party attire and smiles for the soon-to-be newlyweds.
As usual, Amanda had transformed the village green into an elegant venue. Round tables dotted the lawn, each draped in a white tablecloth that glowed faintly in the late setting sunlight. The centerpieces were arrangements of white roses and greenery interspersed with small candles in glass holders, simple enough not to dominate the table but pretty enough to catch the eye. The effect in the late afternoon light was warm and inviting, the kind of setting that encouraged people to linger and talk and refill their glasses.
The buffet stretched along the far edge of the green, and it was impressive in its length and variety. Five Odus manned the stations, and what struck Syssi about them was not the similarity of their stocky bodies and their plain faces but the joy which they seemed to be exuding. It could have been nothing more than a good emulation of human emotions, or it could be one more step in their evolution, bringing them closer to being sentient. As cherished members of this community, it was possible that they were genuinely happy to contribute to the celebration.
Okidu was at the carving station, slicing roast beef, Onidu was managing the seafood display, Ovidu was in charge of the desserts, and Oridu and Ogidu were stationed at opposite ends of the line, handing out plates and utensils and overseeing the operation.
Absent were Annani's third Odu, Oshidu, who had stayed in Alaska to pilot clan members between the sanctuary and the nearest towns, and Sari's butler, Ojidu, who was with her in Scotland.
Music played through speakers that had been mounted in the trees, the playlist curated to fit the ambiance of a cocktail party. The songs were contemporary enough to feel current andmellow enough to allow conversation, and Syssi suspected that Shai had assembled it.
Amanda was making the rounds in high heels despite their impracticality on grass. How did she do that without her heels sinking into the ground? Was she putting all her weight on her toes or somehow hovering?
When Arezoo arrived with Ruvon, Syssi forgot about Amanda and the buffet and the Odus and everything else.
The girl looked stunning.
It wasn't a word that Syssi used often because overuse diluted it, but there was no other word that fit. Arezoo walked across the green beside Ruvon, and conversations stopped mid-sentence.
Her dress was a deep, hot-lava red with a structured corset bodice that showed off a narrow waist, and a skirt of layered tulle that floated around her as she moved. Her dark hair had been swept into an elegant style, her makeup was flawless, and she wore heels that added at least four inches to her petite frame. They were red like the dress, but they weren't spiky like Amanda's. The chunky heel didn't sink into the grass, and Arezoo's gait was sure and confident.
Ruvon looked dashing in a tailored dark suit that fit his broad shoulders and slim frame impeccably. His white shirt was open at the collar, but the most striking thing about him was the expression of pride that he was making no effort to conceal.
