4
Kirael
“Kirael.”
He turned to find Mere Marie standing behind him, having appeared out of nowhere. The Voodoo priestess wore pale purple robes, folds and layers of fabric upon fabric. Her hair was wrapped in a towering fabric bundle, her arms covered in shining bangles, her eyes done up in smoky kohl.
Kirael thought she looked like she’d just jumped straight out of the encyclopedia, her photo pinned next to the entry for “palm reader” or maybe “Vodun”.
“You should knock,” he said. “And stop sneaking up on me.”
Letting the curtain drop, he stepped away from the window.
“I like the getup,” she said, gesturing to his jeans and t-shirt.
Kirael plucked at the hem of his t-shirt with a frown. After their first few weeks in the human realm, Mere Marie had insisted that Kirael, Lucan, an
