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But, unlike most vampires of their kind, these Nosferatu seemed to have put in a visible effort to resemble humans. Their skill was pale, and almost a sickly green color, but their complexion was free of any blemishes or scars. Their eyes were still bright red, like every Nosferatu, but instead of a solid red, they seemed to possess a bright orange iris that indicated where exactly they were looking.
Their teeth weren't as gangly and gnarled as you would have expected, and their clothes, matching their eyes in color, were oddly regal in appearance. And, somehow, these two actually had hair!
The brother had a shock of white hair that fell over his eyes and face in just the right places. His piercing red eyes glowed through the gaps of his bangs as they tracked your movement.
His sister's hair was long and straight, looking to have been meticulously brushed and combed. Her bangs were drooping and curved, the ones over her eyes being held in place by brass clips so as to form an ornate crisscrossing design.
Her eyes traveled to you, and then to Ben. And, for some reason, the Nosferatu woman let out a weary sigh. Not noticing this, her brother's face broke out into a toothy grin.
Sitting right beside them with his arms folded was the man you'd been told so much about. The Were-hyena known as Carnelian had white fur, with speckles of brown sprinkled here and there. He wore a resplendent, gleaming suit of armor that was far more beautiful than it had any right to be, and you found yourself mentally calculating how much it must be worth.
The Were observed you through two different eyes. On the left side, his eye was red and the color of his fur was consistent with the rest of his body. But on the right side, the side that he showed the vampires, his fur was black as pitch, and his eye was a ghastly shade of green. As if he'd heard your thoughts, the right side of his mouth curved up into a smile. Only the right side of his face, though.
You suppressed a shudder and allowed your gaze to swivel over to the next person down the line.
It wasn't hard to figure out who this guy was.
Deathly pale complexion. Dry skin that looked like it was being stretched taut over atrophied muscles. Cold dead eyes, and a head of long, unkempt oily hair that looked more like a wild animal was resting on his head. This had to be the Zombie Prince.
You couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like this thing was barely registering anything that was happening right now.
Your gaze moved over to the Gorgon that was sitting next to him. She wore…
You stopped and stared at her. Delphyne Gorgon, supposed leader of the Amazon faction of Monster Metropolis, was currently laid back in her chair, resting her feet on the table, and texting on what was most certainly a cell phone.
She wore a pair of tasteful sandals, fishnet stockings, a plaid skirt, a sleeveless black turtleneck top and a pair of fishnet sleeves on both arms.
(Cont.)
