“Oh my gods, I’m so nervous.” Robbie’s eyes jumped between me and Nancy. “They have, like, the best eyesight ever, right? What if he writes me off immediately because of my glasses?”

“They’re not like that, Robbie,” Nancy said, her voice soft but utterly convinced. “He would never reject his mate over something so silly.”

“If that’s true, why do they keep our medical records spring-loaded and ready to hand over?” I asked dryly.

I could feel both their minds churning to come up with a good answer, until Nancy said, “Well, they live longer than us, don’t they?”

“Not that much longer,” I muttered. Demiurgus lived to be about one hundred and twenty.

“They will want to make sure their mate is healthy,” Nancy continued, “so they can be with them for as long as possible. And it’s probably also to see if there are any ailments they can help us with.” She gripped my arm excitedly. “Beryl, you know some of their natural remedies are far superior to modern human medicine. They have already cured so many things. I bet a demiurgus’s mate is the healthiest human alive.”

I grunted, eyeing the courtyard as it came into view through the big double doors at the end of the hall. Several cult members were already out there, excitedly lining themselves up into the neat rows they practised every week on the off chance a demiurgus made an appearance.

At least all that time spent wasn’t going to waste now, I supposed.

When we emerged into the courtyard, I immediately spotted my Aunt Violet pacing back and forth with a harried look on her face as she stared down at her tablet. Leaving Nancy and Robbie to join the orderly rows, I sidled over and squeezed her elbow.

She jumped, then relaxed when she saw it was me. “Beryl.” After glancing around, she lowered her voice and muttered, “What the fuck?”

“I know.” I looked over her shoulder at the set of huge black double doors the demiurgus would soon be coming through, accompanied by the high priest and his entourage. “What’s going to happen?”

“It’s never happened in the whole time I’ve been here, but as far as I know, he’ll come out, look everyone over, then pick his mate.” She shrugged uneasily. “That’s it.”

“And then what?” I muttered, glancing back worriedly at the people organising themselves into neat lines.

“Then his choice is asked if they want to be his mate. They can say no, which”—she snorted—“is not going to happen. Or they can say yes straight away, or request time with him in private to decide. If they say yes, their medical record is handed over to him. Then after he’s read it, they’re both asked again if it’s still what they want. If it is…” Violet pursed her lips. “They leave with him.”

I gawked at her. “Just like that? Just… straight away?”

“Not necessarily. They can wait a while before moving out. But I don’t think any of them will want to,” she added grimly, looking back at all the cult members.

“Yeah, they all look like little kids on Christmas morning,” I muttered with a snort.

Violet gripped my arm, her green eyes—just like mine—growing tight with worry. “Beryl, maybe you should go back to your room. If the high priest notices you’re not here, I’ll just tell him you’re sick. It’s not like there aren’t plenty of other humans for the demiurgus to choose from.”

I considered it, but ultimately decided against. “It’s okay. I want to see him. I want there to be at least one person out here giving him the stink eye for being a perv.” I shrugged. “And besides, even if he picks me, he’ll change his mind once he sees my medical record, right? He must be here to find a willing hole to bang, and my holes—sorry for being gross, Auntie—are off-limits.”

She squirmed. “Well, maybe some of them might actually want companionship. You know, not just—”

“Do not start going full-blown brainwashed on me now.” I glared at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not. I don’t think they’re gods, or special whatsoever, but they are just people. People who want love and companionship. Maybe… maybe if he’s here, he just really wants a human partner. For whatever reason.”

“Uh-huh.” I gave her a flat look, then patted her arm. “I’m gonna go hide at the back. Don’t get too worked up, okay?”

“Okay.” She fiddled with her tablet. “Beryl, if the high priest notices you, at least try to look… you know. Pious or whatever. If he realises…”

“I know.” I patted her arm again. “We’ve been playing the long con for decades, Auntie. I’m not going to fuck it up now.”

But that didn’t mean I was going to stand obediently in a line with all the other humans, like cattle at a meat market. I skulked to the back of the neatly organised crowd and leaned against the wall beside a potted apple tree, keeping my eyes on the big double doors ahead.

A few minutes later, they opened. Two of the high priest’s aides stepped out and held them open for the wizened old man to shuffle through, followed by the rest of his entourage.

And then the demiurgus appeared.

My whole body tightened with apprehension. I’d seen demiurgus before, obviously—though funnily enough, far less often since living in the cult dedicated to worshipping them—but they were still so fascinating, and kind of intimidating, to look at.

He had his human skin on, the form they could take to look more like us, but his skin was still jet black, with a faint green sheen like tiny emeralds were embedded deep in his pores. He was wearing a sharp three-piece suit in all black, and his long black hair was tied back into a knot.

Despite looking largely humanoid, he still looked nothing like a human. His yellow eyes were bright and piercing as he glanced around with a blank expression. His features were sharp and narrow, with a flat nose, high cheekbones and a thin mouth that revealed sharp teeth as he said something to the high priest.

Tiny emerald-green spikes, like thorns, jutted along his hairline. The feathered tips of his pointed ears almost looked like fronds—soft and delicate, but something told me they’d be needle-sharp.

Two thin, dark green lines appeared at the corners of his mouth when he spoke, curving up almost to his earlobes. I cocked my head. It almost looked like his cheeks had been sliced open, which was a little unsettling, to say the least.

My gaze trailed down to his body. He was tall, really tall, and lanky, but his shoulders were wide, and his arms looked toned under his suit. Deep green claws tipped his long, elegant fingers, and a pointed black tail swished behind his legs, reaching about mid-thigh.

Honestly, I was a little annoyed by how good-looking he was in an entirely inhuman way. I knew all the cult members would be frothing at the mouth, desperately praying that they would be the one who was picked by his apparent “mating instinct”.

Except he actually looked… kind of uncomfortable. Okay, he looked wildly uncomfortable, especially when the high priest fell to his knees and pleaded with him about something. The demiurgus shifted on his feet, shooting the rows of humans in front of me a dread-filled look, before his mouth moved stiffly in response.

His shoulders hunched up as he followed the high priest across the courtyard, eyes studiously averted as if he found the potted trees along the perimeter very interesting.

“Your loyal followers, my Greater,” the high priest said, making my lip curl. When he continued, I wanted to gag. “All willing and eager to submit to you and share your bed and your life. All well-versed in the ways of your kind. All unfailingly dedicated to providing you with the best human mate you could ever ask for.”

At least the demiurgus appeared even more uncomfortable than before. He actually looked a split second away from bolting. His eyes swept nervously over the rows of “willing and eager” humans, cringing at their expressions, before his gaze drifted to me.