Part 601 – Killing Cameras

Mark Caten watched Isellta walk around the recovery room again.

“So, now that I have you, what should I do with you? I can’t enjoy you the way I enjoy Preyuna. That is not my happy handbag.” He leaned back in his leather chair and tapped his fingers together. “I didn’t really think this one all the way through. I just figured that I was entitled to you. And I am. Of course. You were my daughter’s fey. That makes you mine by default. It’s so obvious.”

Isellta looked towards the camera. His wings flared out and flapped.

Mark Caten smiled. “I should make you my fan boy.  On those hot summer days and nights, I’ll have you stand in front of me and flap your wings. I’m willing to bet those things can create a nice draft.”

Isellta walked towards the wall. His eyes were fixed on the camera.

Mark Caten sat up straight. No. He wouldn’t dare.

His image grew larger and larger as he approached.

“No! Get away from there.”

He leaned forward and his face filled the screen.

I’m having bad Ambrosia flashbacks. “Go. Shoo. Don’t touch it. Don’t touch it.”

Isellta tilted his head and smiled.

“Don’t touch it!”

The camera lens magnified Isellta’s fingertips as the fey reached for the small spot camera.

Mark Caten rose out of his seat. “STOP!”

The image jostled, flickered, and turned into rolls of static.

He banged his fists on his desk. “That was an expensive camera, you twit!”


Isellta examined the metal and plastic black dot with its tail of wires.

“So, it is mechanical and not a bug at all.” He flapped his wings in a happy gesture and put the camera in his pocket next to the corkscrew.

Hmm. I wonder if there are any other ones in here.


Mark Caten switched to the next camera.

Just in time to witness its Isellta-caused demise.

He clenched his teeth and switched to the next one.

Isellta eventually found that one too.

And the next one.

And the next one.

And the next one.

And the next one.

Mark Caten folded his arms across his chest and glowered at the staticky image. This is Ambrosia’s fault. He has it out for my deluxe Neiman Marcus spy cameras.

This fey is his inside man. He couldn’t come here to do his dirty work. So, he sent this fey in his place. It is so like him to do something weak and cowardly like that.

I will make him pay.

For every single camera.

He banged his fist on the desk again. “All two hundred thousand dollars and fifty-nine cents of it, including shipping fees AND handling.”

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