Chapter Eleven

Poe

After our video chat, I couldn't get the demons off my mind. I'd been very excited about getting demons on my podcast, yet I'd never even suggested they guest during our talk. They were so sweet and sincere and I didn't want to share them with my audience.

Not yet.

Maybe never.

I lay awake most of that night just running over everything they said and everything I said and wishing I was as smooth as they were. I could have been more interesting, for sure. They'd listened to or watched quite a few of my podcasts, so at least they had those to show I could speak like a thoughtful, intelligent adult instead of someone falling under the spell of hot men.

A spell… Could there have been one? They had laughed off all the stereotypes about demons, but I'd never been so charmed by anyone. Maybe their very appearance was part of their gifts? Or maybe I was overthinking things? Not how I usually operated. I talked to so many kinds of paranormal people, and like the vampire, a lot of them had the ability to ensorcel others. That was why I had such an ironclad and, although they might not realize it, charmed agreement that every one of my guests had to sign before they were allowed into the studio or even if we did a remote interview. These people had powers and not all of them had the good manners or self-control to not take advantage of others without some sort of protection for me.

The wizard who spelled the contract had been a very wise old man who thought of me as a granddaughter and made sure that anyone who signed was compelled to follow the agreement. I still worried about some of the more powerful, but so far it had held up.

Dragging out of bed after my sleepless night, I heard the coffeemaker start up, grateful I'd remembered to set it the night before. I had a podcast to film this afternoon, and it was one I'd been waiting for a long time.

The fae were notoriously shy about being interviewed, and this particular guest had canceled three times already, but she'd signed the contract now and it included a promise to actually complete the interview, so I was fairly certain it would happen.

Especially since it was going to be remote, and Kristiana did not have to leave her fairy ring to meet with me. I just hoped the sound quality would be good. My studio had originally been in a bedroom closet before I built a booth, and it was difficult to avoid outside sounds in most instances. But since she lived in a forested area that couldn't even be driven to, the noise would likely be natural and hopefully add to the ambiance.

Especially because it was going to be…gulp…live.

Every live was a risk.

I showered and did my hair and makeup before pouring a cup of coffee and making two pieces of cinnamon toast. Although it was very much out of date, I loved the spicy sweetness of whole-grain bread lightly toasted and buttered then sprinkled with a very light coating of cinnamon and sugar from the shaker I inherited from my grandmother.

When I was a little girl, I'd spent summers with her, and she'd made this breakfast for me every morning, albeit with cocoa instead of coffee. And the bread was homemade, the cinnamon sugar much thicker. Still, the familiar treat calmed me down, and I checked my makeup in the bathroom mirror to be sure the bags under my eyes were hidden before settling at my desk to go over my notes and prepare for the live.

As I'd had the contract for her to sign, she'd been very specific about what topics she would allow me to cover, and I wanted to be sure the rough script I had written held nothing that would have her disconnecting and leaving me hanging. Of all the live podcasts I'd done, this one held the most risk and had gotten the most excitement since I announced it.

With fifteen minutes to go, I phoned Kristiana to make sure she was ready and not too nervous. My fae guest was not just fairy but royalty. Not like a queen or anything, but a relative of hers, although I was not allowed to mention the fact.

Still, it wasn't a secret, and the comments in response to my announcement on the socials were super excited.

"I'm fine," she answered the phone. "All ready to go on."

"Not nervous, then?" I wanted to kick myself for saying that. Nothing like putting a thought in the guest's head.

"Not at all." She giggled. "Or maybe a little. But I'll be fine. You remember not to mention my aunt?" The queen. "And everything else."

"I won't say a word to give away the location of your ring. Or your family connections. I sent you a list of the topics I will be asking you about, remember?"

"Right, yes. I should look at that." She giggled again, making it hard to remind myself that the ditziness thing was a stereotype. My audience was both paranormal and human, but it often seemed that both types of people believed the same stories about those who were daring enough to allow me to interview them.

And I'm no journalist. A lot of what went on was simply chatting, opening a window into my guests' lives for those who watched on YouTube or one of the other video outlets or listened to the audio to share a bit of their lives.

Yes, I asked questions, but they were more conversation starters than anything, and that was a big reason why I did the job I did. Sometimes it was hard to believe I made money doing something I enjoyed so much. I strove to show people that we all had more in common than otherwise.

After we hung up, presumably Kristiana was going over what I'd sent her, but it would be fine either way.

Hopefully.

Because it was showtime.