Our Lost Girl obsession is still going strong! Be sure to check out all of our recaps, from Season 1 up to the most recent Season 2 episode aired on SyFy (episode 10, episode 11, episode 12, episode 13, episode 14, episode 15, and episode 16). All caught up? Good. And now, on to the recap for last night’s episode, 2.17, “The Girl Who Fae’d with Fire.”
Spoiler Policy: Please remember that there is a strong NO SPOILERS policy for any and all comments. We are ONLY DISCUSSING episodes of Lost Girl that have ALREADY AIRED IN THE UNITED STATES. Be kind and respectful by not ruining it for those who have yet to watch all of Season 2. Thanks!
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Bo flings open the door and enters Hilton Hovel (drink!) calling for Kenzi to no avail. “Bonus,” she says, pleased. “More piles of pecans for me!” She pulls a pint of ice cream from the fridge, yanks off the top – and barely misses a swing at her head. “You wanna be the champion, baby?” Kenzi asks, tossing her a sparring staff as she swings her own in circles. “You gotta be ready for anything,” she finishes and promptly knocks the ice cream off the counter. Bo objects to the wounded gelato. “You just killed my ice cream!” Kenzi calls it collateral damage and attacks – “Killer Kitty!” They spar and hilariously, my closed captions have the following: “Ah! Ah! Uh! Uh! Uh!” They pause so Kenzi can point out that The Garuda can strike anywhere, any time. Oh look at that, they decided to remember the plot line after all. Sweet.
“Reverse cowgirl!” Kenzi shouts. I’m pretty sure she’s getting her Miaygi on calling out sparring moves and since the alternative is she’s shouting sexual positions, I’m gonna stick to that. Bo deflects Kenzi’s strikes, spins, and strikes back. Spar, spar, spar. Grunt, grunt, grunt. Bo takes a big swing at Kenzi’s head that she barely ducks and the stick chimes the nearby cymbal on the drum kit. Ching! Here, Bo gives her this great, smug smile complete with head tilt. More sparing before Bo grabs Kenzi and shoves her into a half formed wall, her staff thrusting through the planks – just as Nate enters with a bag of food.
“Whoa,” he says, holding up a hand. “Just tacos. Don’t kill me.” Kenzi, breathing hard on the other side of the planks, greets him, “Hey baby!” and asks if he got extra hot sauce. He nods and she pulls the staff back with effort as he comes around the corner to face the two of them. “What was that?” he asks, tentatively. Kenzi and Bo exchange glances then simultaneously answer “Sword-lates” and “Blade aerobics,” respectively. Nate: “You are the strangest girls I’ve ever met.” Naturally, this makes Bo and Kenzi preen. “Making with the sweet talk,” Kenzi coos and kisses him. “What can I say?” Bo adds. “We like to get our freak on.”
Cut to a mansion’s swirling stairwell where an assistant leads a blabbering suited man up to his audience with The Don. “You’ve been loyal to Clan Bukharin” she observes and Suited Man confirms he has been for seven generations now. He expositions that he has a small business problem with some new investors, “very unsavory fellows,” but Assistant couldn’t care less. “Again, I’m just the consigliere.” They pause before a portrait of a former don, “Marisol Carmody, in her prime,” and Suited Man marvels that no wonder they call her the Iron Fist. Consigliere instructs Suited Man not to joke or forget to curtsy and that he has only 10 minutes for his audience. “The Don’s a real stickler for protocol and a real hothead when crossed,” she informs him. As they pedeconference, they pause before more portraits, one that looks like it’s was rescued from Pompeii and another that’s clearly meant to be a Picasso. I would totally buy that Picasso was Fae! Also, each portrait subject is wearing the same necklace, a large, red teardrop pendant.
There’s a loud whoosh and the sound of screaming off screen. Suited Man and Consigliere exchange worried looks. “What was that?!” Suited Man asks. Hurrying now, they burst into The Don’s office to find Miss Carmody a still-smoking burnt corpse in her chair.
Credits.
In The Don’s office, Hale (Hale!) is questioning Consigliere. He asks if “Miss Carmody” was a smoker and Consigliere answers not for two centuries. Hale attempts to open a carved wooden box on The Don’s desk, but Consigliere stops him. “We don’t often have a member of Clan Zamora under our roof,” she says, tightly polite. Hale tells her he’s just here to do his job. “With a little help,” a familiar deep voice drawls from the doorway. Without looking up, Hale notes that Dyson is late. Consigliere asks if Dyson is Hale’s commanding officer. “Hardly,” Hale scoffs. “Yes,” Dyson says as he saunters into the room. Hale’s head pops up at that. What did you say? “And not affiliated with any particular clan,” Dyson adds. “Thank goodness,” Consigliere simpers, but Dyson’s wearing a tight leather jacket so I really can’t blame her. She tells Dyson to let her know if he needs anything and Dyson agrees that he will and thanks her warmly enough that she looks back at him over her shoulder.
“What was that?” Hale asks, more than a little peeved. Dyson, still smiling over Consigliere, says it was an attempt to let Hale off the case gracefully. “Your father called,” he explains. Hale’s eyes narrow: “He called you?!” Hale’s father told Dyson that Hale’s presence there at the crime scene was bad for appearances. “Yeah, whatever, he doesn’t run my life,” Hale grouses and starts to exit. “We’re cool right?” Dyson calls after him. Oh Dyson, you asshat. Hale pauses in the doorway, his back to Dyson. He rolls his eyes – far from it, man – and then leaves without responding.
“Yeah, we’re cool,” Hale sneers. He sits at the counter in Hilton Hovel (drink!) as Kenzi mixes him some tea. “We’re peachy.” Kenzi can’t believe the old lady just “went kablooey”. “Can we focus?” Hale asks. “I’m sorry!” Kenzi shoots back. “It’s just so deliciously gross.” Grabbing her own mug, she perches on the counter and invite Hale to continue with his “bro bitchin’”. Heh.
Hale hates what Dyson had become. So say we all, sugar. “Totally unreliable and he doesn’t even give a damn!” “I’m sorry you guys are having a boy fight,” Kenzi commiserates. Hale grimaces without heat and leans forward. “I could use a friend,” he says sweetly. Kenzi mimics his position and clasps his hands. “Oh hon.”
“A girlfriend,” Hale clarifies pointedly. Kenzi immediately recoils as Hale begs her to hear him out. “The once-a-century summoning of the original noble Fae families is coming up and I need a date.” Kenzi points out that she has a boyfriend now. “I show up with you it’d really get my family off my back about my personal life, Kenzi,” Hale pleads. Kenzi, complete with sign language: “Boyfriend. Me. Have.”
But Hale has come prepared. Removing a sheet of paper from his pocket, he explains that he’s taken the liberty of writing down all the times that he has bailed Kenzi out. “One: erased all your parking tickets from the police database. Two: rescued you from that Minotaur.” Kenzi protests: “He was only a little drunk!” Hale is undaunted. “Three: Nodded knowingly when you told Bo her shoes were stolen by cobbler elves.” HA! That’s my favorite right there. “Those mules were way too small for her!” Kenzi objects and snatches the page from Hale’s hands. “Four,” Hale says without needing to consult his cheat sheet. “Fine,” Kenzi snaps. Hale: “Yes!” Love. These. Two. Together!
Kenzi agrees to pose as his honey. “Temporarily! No smooching. No groping. And no magical Fae impregnations.” Hee. Hale agrees to try and contain himself. He pulls a large dress box out from under the counter and to Kenzi’s inquiry explains that it’s a present. Kenzi squeals with glee – love a prezzie! –but stops smiling when she sees the contents. “It’s my Nona’s old Inverell gown and fascinator!” Hale announces, wiggling like a little boy showing worms off to his crush. Taking out the fascinator, he perches it on Kenzi’s head. It’s actually not bad; I’ve definitely seen worse. And the peacock theme with the blue and green go fantastically with Kenzi’s eyes and hair. She, however, does not agree, but Hale is entranced. “Just like Nona used to wear,” he murmurs, fixated on the fascinator. A little freaked out by his response, Kenzi tentatively examines the gown and asks exactly when the summit will occur. “Tomorrow,” Hale informs her. “But first? You’re meeting my family.” Amazingly, we’ve made it through an entire Hale/Kenzi scene without any cuts.
At The Ash’s compound, Lachlan shows a photo to Bo of Marisol Carmody, Don of the Bukharin Clan. “Last night she ex –” “Exploded,” Bo finishes for him. “Yeah, I heard.” She asks if Dyson and Hale are on it and Lachlan explains that Hale has removed himself from the case and with good reason. “His father is head of the Zamora Clan.” Bo wonders how many clans there are again so Lachlan can exposition for those of us following at home that there are only three clans that matter for the Fae. “The Zamora, Bukharin, and Fin Arvin all uber rich and very powerful and would kill each other in a heartbeat in order to gain more power and more money.” Bo thinks it sounds like the Mob, “but with mermaids.”
She wonders why someone would want to murder Marisol and Lachlan corrects her that the question is really why now. He explains about the clan summoning, calling it the Inverell. “And it is critical that nothing disturbs the precarious peace between these three families.” Bo name checks The Garuda. Lachlan wants Bo to partner with Dyson (Go Team Badass!) and find out who killed Marisol. He also thinks it’s a good opportunity for Bo to let the families know what’s coming. “You earn their support and we can tap into their significant resources.” Bo agrees that this could help tip the scales in their favor in the inevitable battle against the Garuda. Lachlan warns Bo to keep in mind that these people are “conservative, prejudice snobs. “They don’t take too kindly to riff raff.”
At another mansion, Hale quick steps in front of Kenzi as a classical piano melody plays through the halls. She pulls him back to check if he’s all right. Hale says yes then stops again and warns her that his family is a little old skool. Kenzi reassures him that she’s got this. “It’s me, remember?” but somehow this does not relieve Hale.
As they enter the sitting room hand in hand, a tall man looks up from his paper while a beautiful woman stops playing the antique baby grand piano. “Val. Father.” He greets them. “This is Kenzi. My girlfriend.” Val gives him an are you freaking kidding me look while Hale’s father just sneers. Kenzi smiles at them. “Hello Sturgis,” she greets Hale’s father. “Too early to call you dad?” This is when a maid walks in with a tray of goblets. Seeing Kenzi, she gasps in horror – “A human!” –and drops the tray. Don’t worry, darling. It’s not catching. Kenzi’s eyes bug out as she begins to realize what she’s up against.
In the sitting room, Val and Father sit in judgment on one side while Hale stands protective next to a seated Kenzi on the other. “Son,” Hale’s father begins. “You’re dating…this?” Slowly, Kenzi lowers the strawberry she was nibbling on. “Kenzi,” Hale says with bite. “Her name is Kenzi.” There’s an uncomfortable pause as his father sips at his tea. Finally, Hale crouches beside the tea table to pour his own cuppa. Kenzi attempts to chat up Val, asking if her name is short for Valerie or because she’s a Valkerie. Val explains that she’s a pombero, “I can steal voices and seriously Hale? A human in our house?”
“Shut it Val,” Hale whispers. “You shut it,” she shoots back, childishly, but backs up her jibe by touching Hale’s cheek and stealing his voice. Hale’s shoulders drop as he sneers at her and mouths Nice. “Children, that’s enough,” their father intervenes. “Sweetie, give your brother back his voice.” Heh. Val sighs petulantly but obeys, tossing her hand towards Hale who swallows hard. “Harpy,” he snaps at her. “Human hugger,” she shoots back. Ha! Hale finishes pouring the tea and stands up to hand the cup to Kenzi. Sweet boy.
“Really Hale,” his father chides. “It’s one thing to work alongside them.” This is too much rude even for Kenzi. “I’m right here,” she says to Hale, a little dazed at the blatant snobbery. “I can hear you,” she points out directly to Val and Hale’s father “so…”
Hale grouses that his mother would understand. “Well, we know you take after your mother,” his father replies and it does not sound like this is something he appreciates. “My only son, a siren.” Hale flinches and Kenzi immediately comes to his defense. “Best damn siren in the whole biz, this one,” she says, taking his hand again. “As Santiagos of Clan Zamora,” Father intones, “we’re all for charity. But there’s a limit.” Val decides to weigh in. “And that limit is cheap, ill-bred mortals.” From where I’m sitting, you’re the ill-bred one, darling. Nonetheless, Kenzi is suitably quelled.
At The Dal (drink!), Trick and Dyson are studying a folder when Bo joins them. “So! What mad our vic go boom?” she asks with cheek. Dyson pushes the folder to her. “Take a look.” Bo opens the folder and asks after Dyson’s plan. “I say we pull the suspects in get old skool,” he drawls. Theme of the night? “Force a confession.” Bo shoots him A Look. “Or we could examine the evidence.” Here’s a role reversal; Bo advocating caution with Dyson playing the role of hothead. Yeah, this is going to go well.
Bo’s particularly interested in a photo. “This is the three clans, right?” Dyson confirms it’s a picture from the last Inverell and Bo notes that the photograph is all burned around the edges. “Message from the killer?” Trick muses. Bo decides their suspects are also potential targets. “So we bring in the heads of the other families,” Dyson says, “Interview them. But I must warn you,” he adds, reaching for his mug o’ beer, “they are a prickly bunch.” He seems more amused by this than anything else.
Back at Santiago Hall, Sturgis expounds on the fact that this will be the first time the Inverell has been held on their estate under their clan banner in 300 years. Big effin’ deal then, huh. Which is when the maid leads Bo and Dyson in to Kenzi’s utter and complete shock. “Kenzi!” Bo exclaims. “Yes, that’s me. Hale’s monogamous lover,” Kenzi responds with emphasis.
Dyson steps forward to greet Hale’s father. “Mr. Santiago. It’s an honor.” Val has gone on such high alert at the sight of him, it’s a wonder parts of her aren’t pointing upwards. “Dyson, my boy,” Santiago replies shaking his hand. “I didn’t think you were going to make it.” “Neither did I,” Hale mutters. Dyson nods to Val but returns to Bo’s side. “Who’s your friend?” Val asks with an attempt at a pleasant smile. Dyson introduces Bo and Santiago is immediately impressed. “The unaligned succubus! The rumors don’t do your beauty justice.” On that one I think we’re all in agreement. Bo looks like she’d like to say something snarky, but Dyson smoothes the way instead, pointing out that, unfortunately they are there on business, not pleasure. “And boy do we have questions,” Bo adds.
While Santiago goes on about the dreadful affair that is the Marisol murder, Bo widens her eyes in silent conversation at Kenzi – what the hell are you doing here? – who replies in kind – it was Hale’s idea obviously! Santiago doesn’t think there’s any reason why they can’t have this discussion over some rare vintages. Val meanwhile, hasn’t taken her greedy gaze off of Dyson who, after eye checking Hale first, he sizes her up too and does that chin lift of acknowledgement move. Steady wolf. “Shall we adjourn to the wine cellar?” Santiago suggests.
Down in the wine cellar, the wine cellar bee-low, Hale sits at a small table glaring at an unperturbed Dyson who’s across from him. Val sits to Dyson’s right, uncomfortably close, and eyes him predatorily. Kenzi pops up from her spot next to Hale to go examine some fine if dusty vintages while Bo asks Sturgis if he has any idea who might’ve killed Marisol. Naturally he has does and proceeds to denigrate Dabner, the head of the Fin Arvin Clan. Bo briefly peers in Kenzi’s direction and frowns as Sturgis continues. “Paranoid, nearly insane, and you can’t trust those Fin Arvin fools. They’re as shiftless as mortals.” He looks at Kenzi when he says this last, notes her position, and speed streaks to her side. “You’re speedy,” Kenzi remarks. “Not the Chateau Isoir, dear,”he chides. “Perhaps you’d prefer a wine cooler?” He gestures for her to return to her chair. Smirking – your house, your rules, dude – Kenzi saunters back to Hale’s side. Val smiles smugly, looks cagily at Dyson, who himself looks mildly amused, and proceeds to place her hand very high up on Dyson’s thigh. Watch it, bitch! Oh my. Sorry. That slipped out.
Dyson immediately frowns down at her hand, but doesn’t look too put out. As the maid enters and lays out glasses on the table, Bo scans the room and double takes – what the hell?! –when she notices what Val is doing. Val nonchalantly lifts her wine glasses and deliberately looks away from Dyson as she runs her hand further up his thigh. Bitch, what did I just tell you?! Whoops. There I go again.
Thankfully, Val’s audacity is equally too much for Bo. “We should talk to this Dabner,” she says to Dyson with bite. “Now.” Dyson immediately agrees, neatly detaching himself from Val’s claws by grasping her hand and pointedly moving it back to her own lap. Just how far were you going to let her get there, wolf boy? But as Dyson moves to stand, Santiago stops him, insisting on having cake before they leave. “Don’t you want dessert, Dyson?” Val murmurs as he settles back in his seat with a wary look for her. Bo shoots her an incredulous look that handily mirrors my own response. Are you freaking kidding me, lady?!
Santiago waxes on ponderously as he ceremonially divides the cake into four parts “to pay homage to the original families.” Bo frowns as Val calls the maid over. “Wash the silverware the human uses at least twice.” Hale hisses her name in protest and Val adds a caveat. “Better just pitch it.” And that’s enough for Kenzi.
Hale sighs and hides his face with frustration as Kenzi gapes at him. “You know what? That’s it,” she says, rising. I’m more than a little surprised that neither Bo nor Dyson has leapt to Kenzi’s defense yet and can only guess it’s because they’re trying to play nice with the upper class snobs. That and Dyson’s being an asshat. “Fae you,” Kenzi swears at Val. “You know if I wanted to be insulted like this, I would’ve spent time with my own family!” she shouts. She stalks out of the wine cellar, a frantic, deeply embarrassed Hale hot on her heels. Dyson casually looks after them.
Upstairs in the hallways, Hale grabs Kenzi’s arm, yanking her to a halt, but before he can apologize again, Kenzi attacks. “Yes, our friendship works because we are so the best dressed out of the group and because we enjoy taking the piss out of one another.” Here she smacks him in the shoulder. “But I have never used you like you just used me!” Hale grabs her arm again and apologizes – again. “They’re rude, they’re bigots and they’re wrong. I get it.” Kenzi, with another hard shot to his shoulder: “Well get this. Next time you want to play Bad Son, leave me out of it!”
As she stalks off in a fury, Bo leads Dyson, Val and Santiago brigade down the hall from the other end as she thanks Hale’s family for their time. Going by the tone of her voice, Kenzi isn’t the only one who has reached her limit of obnoxious elitism. “And here I’d heard you were difficult,” Santiago expounds. Dyson’s clearly been a good influence.” Oh darling, you have no idea. Dyson, recognizing the signs of an impending succubus verbal beat down, hastens to Bo’s side, crowding close and not looking away from her face. “So has Kenzi. See she’s taught me how to tolerate people that I can’t stand,” Bo grits out. “You’re snobs. You’re bigots. And your family –” Dyson says her name once, “Bo,” and she stops and takes a beat. “Your family home,” she continues, “is lovely.”
“And Dyson,” Val simpers. “Come back any time you feel like something sweet.” Bo glares at her, rolling her eyes as she loudly claps Dyson’s arm and turns him with her to drag him away. “So much for impressing our social betters,” he murmurs to Bo as they get some clearance from the Family Santiago. Bo points out that she still has two families to charm. “Besides,” she adds, jerking on the lapels of her jacket. “That was worth it.” Dyson looks back over his shoulder at then follows her out.
At Hilton Hovel (drink!), a still pissed Kenzi powers walks in to see Nate holding a nosegay of wildflowers. “You have got to stop sneaking in like this!” she exclaims. Why?! The whole world wanders in and out at will, human and Fae. Nate wonders what will happen if he does that. “Find out my girlfriend stood me up for another dude?” Quelled, Kenzi takes the nosegay from him. “If it makes you feel any better,” she jokes, “it was like the worst date of all time.” Nate however is not amused. Kenzi immediately says that she was kidding and Nate asks if that means that it was a date and it was awesome, “Yay!” Heh. Miserable, Kenzi has no defense. Nate explains that he and Kenzi were “supposed to jam” and instead he arrives to see her leaving with Hale. Kenzi insists that Hale is just a friend and it was a “thing.”
But this is the episode where everyone has had enough. Nate tells her that he can’t keep up with her secrets even though he really, really wants to trust her. “But you’re always so…” here he shrugs, searching for the right word, “sneaky.” Kenzi looks near tears and after a small pause, Nate tries to make it better by admitting that her sneakiness is adorable, but Kenzi is too emotional to take the olive branch. “No, you’re right, and it’s killing me. I want to tell you the truth,” she says, emphatically.
As The Dal (drink!), Trick leads Bo and Dyson down the stairs and into Tolkien’s Lair (drink again!), where Dabner, head of Clan Fin Arvin awaits them. For some reason, the fact that Dyson has to duck under the doorway to enter amuses me greatly.
Bo greets him and Dabner whines about how he’s actually Lord Dabner “Ninth Premier of the clan Fin Arvin. But who cares about hard-earned titles in these troubled times.” Dyson asks “Lord Dabner” what brings him to Tolkien’s parlor today. Dabner passionately explains that “it” came into his boudoir; he woke to find it standing above him, “aflame!” Bo: “Like, on fire?” Dabner: “Huh. Beauty and brains.” Bo preens. Dabner clicks his tongue. “So often strangers.” Bo’s smile falters. Heh. Dabner goes on to say that he barely escaped with his life. “I am Fin Arvin! I am not to be silenced!” Bo, Trick, and Dyson all look at him strangely. “Milord?” Dyson says. Slowly, Dabner begins to smoke. “You hand, it’s burnt,” Trick tells him. “Did the creature touch you?”
Dabner gazes at his hand in wonder as flames lick around his fingers. “It all happened so fas –” He ignites at once and collapses to the ground a pile of burnt bones and ash. Though not The Ash, in case you were wondering. Team Badass and Trick all cough and wave away the lingering smoke. “Whoever did this just sent more than a message,” Bo declares.
Bo and Dyson crouch down next to Dabner’s remains. “You OK?” he asks her and Bo says she just feels a bit congested. Heh. Trick explains that when a cherufe touches you, it sets off a chain reaction and you spontaneously combust. “Gruesome trick,” Bo mutters. “Wait, what’s a cherufe?” Dyson takes over the Exposition Express and tells her that a cherufe is an Under-fae of magma, “immensely powerful.” I wonder how many times they went Austin Powers on that line while filming – Mmmmag-mmmma. Trick says a cherufe can cover swaths of land with lava and Dyson adds they also can disguise themselves as rock.
Trick can’t figure why a cherufe would waste its talents tormenting these individuals when it could wipe out an entire village. Bo insists there has to be a reason because the attacks are so specific. “And there’s only one Don left,” Trick observes. Bo sighs heavily and name checks Hale’s dad. “He’s a total jerk off but capable of hiring an assassin to take out the other clan leaders?” Dyson observes in that voice that it looks like they’re headed back to the Santiago estate. Oh joy.
At Hilton Hovel (drink!), Kenzi is working her way through a pint of ice cream when Bo returns home. “Is that my piles-o-pecans?!” she asks, all too easily grabbing the pint from Kenzi and diving in. “I told Nate the truth about us,” Kenzi says miserably. “Oh!” Bo says climbing over the back of the couch to settle down next to her, “Kenzi!” Kenzi: “Except I totally lied!” Bo, more softly: “Oh. Kenzi.” Kenzi rattles on that she doesn’t know what happened to her, suddenly she was telling him that they were spies, that they were in witness protection, “that we were this close to getting our own cooking show!” Bo: “Oh. That one. That’s when he knew you were lying?” Yep. That’d do it.
More calmly, but still miserable, Kenzi admits that she knows why Nate’s mad, “because I’m pretending to be Hale’s piece on the side.” Bo insists that Kenzi tell Hale she won’t do it anymore. “If he knew that this was affecting your real relationship…” But Kenzi says Hale won’t want to take her to the Inverell anyways since his family hated her. Bo: “Oh, they sucked!” Kenzi: “They so sucked!” Heh. Love it.
Hark! There’s a knock on the door! Who the hell knocks at Hilton Hovel (drink!)? As Bo gets up, Kenzi dully says she’s going to hit The Dal (drink!) and give Hale the news. ‘Cause where else would he be? Bo shucks her jacket and I notice that somewhere between The Dal (drink!) and Hilton Hovel (drink!), she’s changed her shirt. As she walks to the door, Bo tells Kenzi that she doesn’t think her problems with Nate are just a Fae thing. “I mean, it is hard to be in a relationship when you can’t be completely honest.” That anvil barely has time to knock me in the head before Bo opens the door to reveal Doctor Lauren. Oh yeah, right. She knocks. Yippee. “You rang?” she asks. Bo thanks her for coming, “this case is a doozy” and yet I failed to see where the medical expert consult is required. Before she can say anything else, NotComaNadia sidles up behind Doctor Lauren. “Hey Bo,” she greets. Doctor Lauren ducks her head, mildly embarrassed as Bo’s warm smile grows tight as she says, “Hey (NotComa) Nadia” and rolls her eyes and grimaces as they pass her and enter.
The doc and Nadia enter, “I brought those medical texts you wanted” neatly crossing paths with an exiting Kenzi who waves – “Later” – and exchanges speaking looks with Bo as she goes. NotComaNadia asks where to find the bathroom and both Bo and Doctor Lauren say “upstairs” simultaneously. As NotComaNadia follows their directions, the doc apologies for having her girlfriend in tow – again. “I had to bring her. She just hasn’t wanted to leave my side, which is understandable considering the coma and waking up after five years.” Yeah, there’s also your penchant for lying to and cheating on her, doc. Think that might be a concern of NotComaNadia’s here too. Bo says it’s fine when it’s clearly not for either of them.
Pulling out a heavy tome, Doctor Lauren tells her The Ash has volumes in his library on the cherufe. “Even among the Fae they’re admired for being – I don’t know –” “Bad ass?” Bo suggests. Doctor Lauren: “Precisely” and she explains that it was a cherufe that caused Mount Vesuvius to erupt. Actually, that was the thanks to the tenth Doctor, but carry on. “The city of Pompeii was buried in minutes, exterminated generations of humans and Fae.” She mentions that the Fae have a different word for Pompeii. “They call it The Rape of Scafati.” Since the music just cued in all sturm und drang, I’m gonna take this as something important. This pings for Bo and she opens up Dyson’s work folder to show a burnt photo from Marisol’s desk that has the word “SCAFATI” carved into a marble slab. Doctor Lauren wonders why Marisol Carmody would have it and Bo wonders if there’s something to which the dons are not fessing up.
Upstairs, NotComaNadia paws her way throughBo’s room. She picks up the sword stick Trick gave Bo for her birthday, withdrawing the sword slightly before returning it to the mantle. Stopping in front of the antique full length mirror, she examines herself, dragging her hands over her face as though she doesn’t recognize her own reflection. moves on to Bo’s weapon trunk. Bo herself arrives in the bathroom doorway to spy NotComaNadia casing her room. As NotComaNadia crouches in front of the open weapons trunk, Bo saunters forward to lean against the door jamb. “Find anything good?” she asks, startling NotComaNadia. Caught, NotComaNadia twitches in place while Bo waits for her explanation. “You’ve got quite the weapons collection,” NotComaNadia points out awkwardly. “Well, everyone’s got their hobbies,” Bo responds, unappeased. NotComaNadia: “As if you weren’t intimidating enough already.” Surprised at this, Bo softens infinitesimally.
“Bo, I’m so sorry,” NotComaNadia says sincerely. “I’m so embarrassed. I just –” Bo strides forward and firmly closes the trunk. “I just wanted to check out the competition,” NotComaNadia admits, faltering on the last words. “Look, (NotComa) Nadia, I’m not your competition. You really have nothing to worry about.” Oddly enough, Bo’s nose elongates as she finishes saying this to (NotComa) Nadia, who is worried that Bo might tell Doctor Lauren about this incident. “Well,” Bo offers, smiling. “It’s not like I’ve never peeked inside someone’s medicine cabinet, right?” NotComaNadia smiles back with relief and thanks her before exiting, but Bo’s smile fades and she gazes after NotComaNadia truly puzzled. That is one strange bird, babe, no question.
At The Dal (drink!), Hale is sipping tea at the bar when Trick warns him of Kenzi impeding approach. “Hale, four o’clock.” Hale leaps to his feet, for once removing his hat. “Oh, there she is, my main squeeze,” he teases hopefully. Amusingly, Trick is already opening a bottle for Kenzi, unasked. That there is a barman who knows his clients. “Hey Trick,” Kenzi says taking a seat at the bar and the bottle. “Here ya go,” Trick replies. Sweet. Kenzi turns on Hale. “Were we in the same room yesterday? That was crazytown.” Wait, when did we switch days?! Bo just got home from meeting with Dabner and suddenly it’s tomorrow?! Explains Bo shirt change, but way to drop the continuity line there, show.
“That was Thursday. The estate is always kind of intense,” Hale underplays. Kenzi tells him how Nate doesn’t get why she’s doing this for Hale. Hale says he will explain to Nate that Kenzi is doing him the biggest favor of his life. “Besides, if you bail, our fake relationship will be one more thing my father thinks I failed at.” Kenzi wonders if he wanted to impress “Papa Sturgis” so much, why didn’t he just ask Bo. A mild aneurysm explodes in my head at the Teutonic amount of angst such a scenario would produce.
Hale pauses, then explains that while his family is nuts, he is the Santiago heir and may someday be head of the Zamora Clan. Wide-eyed Kenzi has never considered those implications before. “And you need a tiny human queen to claim your throne?” she asks hopefully. Hale chuckles. “I need to set an example. If we don’t modernize, we will become irrelevant. Look, the Fae can co-exist with the humans peacefully, as equals,” he says passionately. “Moreover, we should.” Not just a pretty face, our Hale is a reformer! Changing the status quo from the inside! Power to the people, baby!! Why do I suddenly feel like I’ve just reenacted a scene from Reds?
“No fair with the “we’re all on one team” speech,” Kenzi objects, clearly moved. “You know Mighty Ducks is my fave!” “Oh?” Hale rebuttals, casually pulling out his list of Kenzi solids. “Oh? Well, I would’ve never guessed when you made me watch it nine times.” Kenzi snatches the list from him, folds it up and lays it on the bar. “One more night!” she agrees in a harsh whisper. “Yes!” Hale says, triumphant. “One more ‘you don’t even have to be sober’ night!” he promises. My favorite kind! “Oh, that’s great,” Kenzi replies, making it sound anything but as she swigs from her bottle.
Somehow, and I really don’t know how beyond that it’s in the script, Bo is back in the Santiago wine cellar, cautiously making her way down the spiral staircase and over to the row of wine bottles Sturgis was so keen Kenzi move away from earlier. Guess her spidey sense was all a-tingly. Sturgis’ voice stops her in her tracks. “How’d you get in here?” he demands. Such a good question! “I doubled security!” He’s wearing a formal tux complete with a lavender sash of office. Or possibly decoration.
Bo tells him to double security again. “The cherufe is after you,” she warns. “That is unless you hired it to kill the other two dons.” Santiago is unconcerned and merely smarms that if Bo wanted to borrow a bottle, she could’ve just asked. How does one return such a thing once borrowed and, presumably, consumed? I shudder to think.
Bo wonders if he’d lend her the bottle Kenzi had been looking at and this successfully silences Sturgis. She marks that it was the only bottle without any dust. “I believe it was the Chateau Isoir,” she finishes. Bo pulls on the bottle in question and releases the door to a secret room. “Is that French for “family secrets”?” she quips and enters the room. Santiago watches her warily as Bo examines the treasures in the hidden room. Grabbing a scroll, she marches back out to confront him. “I betcha this scroll will tell me about Mister Scafati,” she reveals. “May I?” Santiago asked, unmoved, and, taking the scroll from Bo, he unravels and lays it before them on the table. Inside the scroll are four family crests and trees. “The Scafati wasn’t a person. They were a family,” he explains. “A fourth clan,” Bo muses. “You sliced the cake into four equal parts to pay homage to the families,” she realizes, and we get a lovely flashback of just that to remind us what she’s referring to because recalling what happened 10 minutes ago is too much for we poor humans.
Sturgis believes that our suspicions will always betray us. “The Scafati clan was more powerful than the Zamora, Fin Arvin, and Bukharin kinfolk combined.” Together, those three clans conspired to destroy The Scafati. “By using the cherufe who lived below Mount Vesuvius.” Santiago says that in return, they promised the cherufe the first girl born every hundred years. “Well let me guess,” Bo snarks. “You welched on your daughter deliveries.” Santiago admits that they tricked the creature instead and buried him under the mountain. Bo: “Not deep enough!” She stalks back into the Sekrit Room and replaces the scroll while Sturgis expounds that he understands the cherufe’s need for revenge but not why he’s claiming it now, “it’s been two thousand years!” “I’ve got an inkling!” Bo snaps and asks if Santiago has ever heard of The Garuda. Santiago doesn’t respond. “Sturgis!” Bo calls him by his first name to impart the seriousness of the situation. “You have got to stop the Inverell!” But Santiago doesn’t want the other clans to think he cancelled out of fear. “I’d rather burn.”
Suddenly, he speed streaks to Bo’s side and knocks her back into the Sekrit Room, closing the door before she can rush back out. Fixing his tie, Sturgis ignores Bo’s demand that he open the door. “Dammit!” Bo swears, looking around the Sekrit Room for another exit. She spies a grate but can’t manage to get it free of the wall. Crouching down, she lifts a porcelain vase. “Sorry Nona,” she tells it before slamming the vase against the grate.
Upstairs at the Inverell, Val and Sturgis schmooze with their guests while Dyson ambles around the room with his dark suit jacket turned up at the collars, the better to stalk you with my dear. A majordomo reads from calling cards as he announces the arriving guests, ringing a bell after each name. “Emmett Northcote.” Ring. “Of Family Northcote. Clan Fin Arvin.” Northcote nods to Hale who awaits Kenzi’s arrival. “Tamzin Borgia.” Ring. “Of Family Akif. Clan Bukharin.” Stalker Dyson scans the room. Agitated, Hale checks his watch and wonders where Kenzi is.
“Kenzi!” the majordomo announces. Ring. Hale visibly relaxes. The majordomo looks at the calling card, hesitates and frowns then continues haltingly. “Hale’s – bitchin’ girlfriend.” Here Hale chuckles while Val, also with a lavender sash, and Sturgis exchange glances of alarm.”Of Family What Up? Clan Hey Now.” As the majordomo finishes with audible confusion, a vision in shimmering black and silver enters. It’s an all glammed up Kenzi looking utterly gorgeous with her glorious hair in an up do. If that’s Nona’s dress, Nona was a smokin’ fox! All eyes are upon her as she poses at the top of the stairs. It’s quite a moment.
Until the majordomo urges her to come on and Kenzi takes his hand and allows him to hand her down the stairs. With a broad smile, she joins Hale. “I had to do it my way,” she explains apologetically. “I didn’t want to look like a ‘before’ picture.”
“You look gorgeous,” Hale exults with no small amount of awe. “Really.” Kenzi: “Really? Not too – goofy?” Hale: “It’s perfect.” She smiles beautifully at him. “OK.” Stalker Dyson, who has been watching the scene, strides off for parts unknown. Val immediately is in hot pursuit and Sturgis raises an interested eyebrow in her wake.
Dyson prowls down a hallway, Val at his heels. “Word of the Dons’ deaths has positively blazed through the crowd,” she drawls. Dyson glances around. “They can all burn as far as I’m concerned,” he tells her harshly. That’s – a surprising and unexpected response. “Pompous fools muttering and posturing amongst themselves.” That’s a lot of venom from someone who was obsequious and pandering not one day ago, much less counseling Bo to do the same. He tells Val that she should get out of there. “Something bad is coming.”
“I’d rather dance,” Val says, heavy with the double entendre as she basically devours Dyson with her eyes. “You’re my best friend’s baby sister,” Dyson scoffs at her. Val sidles closer to him. “I’m nobody’s baby anymore,” she tells him. But we can still put you in the corner, right? “And I know you’ve noticed,” she adds smugly. She says that she’s noticed something too. “You’re…different.” This doesn’t seem to be deterring her though. Dyson confirms that he is that. “So don’t think you know me.”
“You don’t give a rat’s ass about anything, do you Dyson?” Dyson exhales hard through his nose as he scans the room again, but doesn’t deny it. “Liberating, isn’t it? Not having to care.” Val admits that she was eavesdropping on her father and “your little succubus,” in the wine cellar earlier. Dyson, the man who doesn’t give a rat’s ass, is instantly concerned. “Bo is in the wine cellar?!” Val tells him that it turns out Daddy Dearest isn’t exactly the man she…and here Val’s seductive demeanor begins to crack as they get to the heart of the matter. Val’s polished image of her father has cracked and she has to face the fact that he’s not the Fae she thought he was. Naturally, she deals with this by trying to bone Dyson who is probably quite unsuitable. Poor little rich girl.
Again, the man who professes not to care immediately shows concern for Val. “Don’t go all gallant on me,” Val rebuffs him. “That’s not what I’m after. I plan to drown my sorrows in something – wrong.” What sorrows? They cut the part where you explained them. “Why else would I choose you?” Because he’s a smoking hot bad ass? Just me? Okey dokey then. She’s a real charmer though, isn’t she?
Annoyed, Dyson tells her he’s working and moves to leave, but she grabs his arm. “If you want to feel something for a change, come find me.” She saunters away as Stalker Dyson watches, contemplatively.
In the Billiard Room, with the candlestick, Miss Scarlet – I mean, Bo emerges from a bench. As she slinks through the room, a side door opens and Nate pokes his head through. “Nate?!” Bo exclaims. Grabbing his hand, she drags him back into the Billiard Room with him whinging the whole way. “Ow, ow, OW! You’re crushing my fingering hand.” Snicker. Disgusted, Bo jerks her hand free and Nate gives her A Look. “Guitar,” he reminds her.
Aghast, Bo wonders how he got in (caterers) and what he’s doing there in the first place. “I’m finding the balls to get my girl back.” Bo sighs, but can’t deny the sweetness. “OK,” she orders. “Wait here.”
Upstairs, Hale and Kenzi swan through the party collecting polite insults. “Yup, there it is. Heard another ‘Mercy’,” Hale notes proudly. “That was number four. Oh, and the lady in the red sequins gave us a ‘Crikey!’” Kenzi informs him gleefully. “See? We’re uniting Fae from many lands in their utter disapproval of our love,” Hale crows, adding a little British accent flavor to his snark. “I’m still smarting from that guy’s ‘harrumph’,” Kenzi jokes. “You know if words were bullets…” Hale is laughing, delighted to have Kenzi at his side and in such companionable spirits. “You’re fun!” he observes, grinning and Kenzi chirps a thank you. “Kinda why I invited you to this clusterfae.” That is now officially my new favorite descriptor. Kenzi: “What happened to ‘I am Chosen One. Must date human. Drag Fae into neeewwww century’?”
“Ha Ha,” Hale replies. “And yeah, that’s important. But this is the next best thing to having an actual girlfriend.” Kenzi sweetly adjusts his tie and playfully smacks his cheek as the majordomo announces a new arrival, voice trembling. “The unaligned succubus. Family Unknown. Clan –” Bo smacks his hand before he can ringy dingy his bell. “Zip it!” She orders. “Now.” Kenzi waves to her – “hey Bo Bo! Over here! – and Bo quick steps over to her and Hale. “What the hey hey?” Kenzi asks. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bo says to Hale. “No invitation. Underdressed. Do not tell your dad!” She tells Kenzi there’s someone else who shouldn’t be there and he’s waiting for her in the Billiard Room. Bo and Kenzi hustle their way out of the party.
The moment Kenzi sees Nate in the Billiard Room, she spreads her arms akimbo, and “Dude!” Across the room, Nate looks at her with relief and guilt. “Dude.” Annoyed, Kenzi’s stacks her hands on her hips. “DUDE!” Pause as Bo looks between them. “And that’s my cue.” Heeeeeee. Oh the many glorious uses of the word “dude”!
Bo pats Kenzi on the back and exits as she tentatively approaches Nate. “Can we please say something besides ‘dude’?” he pleads. Kenzi points out with acerbity that she said a lot of things last time she saw Nate and he freaked. Nate: “In my defense, you said you were Batman, so…” Ha! “Fine,” Kenzi snaps. “I fibbed. Great catch.” Nate says that’s the point; she is a great catch. “The best.” Awwww.
Kenzi is not unmoved and momentarily halts her dramatic exit. “Leaving more slowly,” she allows. Nate tells her that she looks amazing and that the most pathetic thing about their situation is that he’s so crazy about her, “it practically wouldn’t matter if you were dating a cop on the side.” Kenzi insists that she’s just pretending to be Hale’s “faux beau” to satisfy his parents. Technically, that would be ‘parent’ but I’ll allow it. Nate tries to process this and decides that it’s cool, which leads Kenzi to tentatively ask if they’re cool. “I hope so,” Nate says, sincerely. Kenzi points out there are still things that aren’t hers to tell but Nate insists that he doesn’t care what the deal is between her and Bo; he knows who she really is. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I’m yours.” Awwwww.
They mack until Kenzi breaks off breathlessly. “I can’t do this right now,” she insists. “I have to go make a good impression and my Spanx are riding up and the man I love is playing stalker!” It seems to be going around, babe. But Nate only cares about the “man I love” part of that ramble, and he asks for confirmation, “You love me?” Kenzi smiles only a little sadly – “Busted.” – and they mack some more failing to notice freaking Val in the background listening in again. Nate decides that Kenzi’s love confession is good enough for him, “Now go be good for Hale!” Kenzi smiles everything right again in her world. They kiss again and Kenzi leaves, Val dropping out of sight as she passes by popping back in to mutter “bitch”. I’m guessing she didn’t hear the “faux beau” part of that convo.
As Kenzi re-enters the party, Val walks past her, waves her hand and steals her voice. Stalker Dyson is tracking Val and when she pauses in a doorway and jerks her head at him, Stalker Dyson glances around to see if anyone noticed her blatant come hither and then – well – hithers.
Kenzi repeatedly tries to call out to Hale, clearing her throat over and over, but to no avail. I would think losing her voice would mean she couldn’t make any sound at all, but whatever. She does manage to catch his eye though and when he frowns, mimes having a dry throat. Bo barges into the party and grabs Hale demanding to know where Dyson is. You do not want to know, sweetie. “I need his help to find the cherufe,” she explains. Hale is shocked to hear the cherufe is coming to his home. Bo tells him that’s exactly what they think, and “look, if you see Dyson, send him my way, OK?” She hurries off but not before Sturgis speeds streaks directly into her path. He hopes she’s not planning anything stupid. “You mean like saving your sorry ass?!” she shoots back and soldiers on.
Kenzi has made her way to the estate’s suspiciously empty kitchen. Wouldn’t a catered event like this have a great deal of hustle and bustle downstairs? Eh, maybe this is merely the backup kitchen. She sashays down the aisle and pours herself a glass of water – only to drop it to the floor when she notices the burnt out husk of a waiter. An orange flame reflects on a sideboard and Kenzi fearfully glances around. She hits the deck when flames jet up from across the room, hiding behind the counter like she’s dodging a Velociraptor. Carefully, she glances round one corner then, quickly crossing herself, eases around the other, crawling down the aisle on her hands and knees her firm tush high in the air. So much for Nona’s dress. Halfway down, she peers over the top of the counter and gets briefly to her feet before recommencing the crawl. As she reaches the end of the aisle, the creature suddenly appears before her and – holy shit, it’s the Balrog.
The cherufe raises its arm to strike – and is knocked over by the rolling rack Bo rams into it. Helping Kenzi to her feet, Bo checks that she’s OK then wonders where the damned creature disappeared. I LOST MY VOICE! Kenzi mouths frantically. Bo: “What happened to your voice?!” Kenzi mouths I DON’T KNOW! Bo orders her to stay put.
Down in the wine cellar, Dyson and Val are getting it on and holy crap, what is with all the tiny ladies in this show?! I mean, I know our wolf boy has some height on him, but this is getting ridonkulous! They’re breathing heavily and macking hard while the industrious Val has already got Dyson’s jacket and shirt opened. I suppose I should (grudgingly) thank her for that. I wonder if they checked to see if Bo was still locked in the Sekrit Room first. Far as they’re both concerned, neither has seen her since Val watched Daddy Dearest lock Bo away. Somehow, I don’t think so.
Dyson picks the tiny Val up and back her against the wall, eerily reminiscent of our favorite scene in Vexed – and stops. Momentarily allowing his upper head to do the thinking, he tells Val that they should go upstairs and shouldn’t “do this”. Val asks if that’s really what Dyson wants. She grabs him by the waistband of his pants and yanks him back. They mack some more and Val lifts her bare leg up to rest on his hip, Dyson crouches low to – um – better align – things. He picks her up and splays her across a pile of wine barrels
Y’all I deserve a medal for recapping this hawt, strewth, really hawt, mess.
Back in the kitchen, Bo is hunting cherufe wielding a fire extinguisher, which is actually a pretty good improvised weapon come to think about it.
Down in the wine cellar, Val and Dyson are speeding up. She’s got his pants undone now and yanks his shirt and jacket down his back far enough that – Hot Tattoo Alert!!
Dyson visibly drags her panties down one leg and I’m pretty sure there’s – yup, confirmed copulation happening as he growls and kisses her and I turn my fan on full. Splash, splash, splash. Dyson’s back muscles flex as the general motions of thrust and parry begin until Val opens her eyes – and sees her brother standing in the doorway.
“VAL!” Hale shouts, enraged. Dyson and Val immediately disengage and struggle to reassemble their clothing under Hale’s scornful gaze as Val haltingly tells her brother to relax. “Don’t make this a thing, man,” Asshat Dyson says as he audibly fastens his pants and belt while keeping his back to Hale. Good work there, sound effect guys. “A thing?” Hale repeats with disbelief.
Val and Dyson are both breathing hard as they try to regain their wits. By the look on her face, Val is beginning to realize just how badly she screwed up. “We’re both consenting adults,” Asshat Dyson tells his rapidly former friend. “It doesn’t concern you.” Hale: “The hell is doesn’t! She’s my sister! And you are supposed to be my best friend! What’s wrong with you?!”
In the kitchen, Bo eases down the aisle, still hunting cherufe armed with her trusty fire extinguisher. As she passes a cauldron-like pot, the cherufe rises up behind her. “Time to cool things off,” she quips and presses the trigger, but the extinguisher is empty. “There’s no Fae fire code?!” she objects, disgusted, and tosses the thing aside as the cherufe attacks.
Down in the cellar, Hale is chewing Dyson out – FINALLY. “I always stuck by your side, man, and this is how you repay me?!” Dyson claims that he may not be able to love, “but I can still live.” My annoyance at this ridonkulous statement is offset by the fact that his shirt and jacket are still hanging open. Hale breaks and grabs Dyson by the lapels, shaking him while Val calls Hale’s name in protest. For his part, Dyson doesn’t resist, but hangs in Hale’s grip. “What are you gonna do, huh?” he asks. “You gonna hit me? Then do it,” he goads and shouts again “DO IT!” shoving Hale when he hesitates as though he needs Hale to hurt him because he can’t seem to hate himself enough right now. He growls and snarls but Hale grits his teeth, sad and disgusted with Dyson now, and releases him. “You’re not worth it,” he sneers shaking his head. He draws Val away, who looks over her shoulder once at Dyson, but leaves quietly with her brother leaving a self-loathing Dyson alone in the wine cellar.
Up in the kitchen, Kenzi runs in to see Bo dodging the cherufe’s continued attack. She pounds on a pot with a stick of French bread to get Bo’s attention and points her to the tank of liquid nitrogen on the counter. “Kenzi!” Bo shouts. “Reverse cowgirl!” Aw, I love it when we come full circle! Bo grabs a fry pan and spins in a circle, swinging at the cherufe, but one swipe from the monster instantly melts away the pan. Why do I feel like that’s a line from an infomercial?
Kenzi uses Bo distraction to open the tank and slide it down to Bo who snatches it up and throws the contents onto the cherufe. Instantly, the cherufe is extinguished, freezing into solid form. As Bo and Kenzi gape at it, Kenzi tentatively reaches out and prods the monster with her loaf. Not a euphemism, people! The cherufe shatters into pieces on the ground. “Asian fusion is so hot these days,” Bo quips.
Kenzi steps up to the steps of the ballroom and wolf whistles to get everyone’s attention. Bo power walks up behind her and points an accusing finger at Sturgis. “It is bad enough that you made a deal with the devil and then reneged. But the reason the cherufe –” and here she’s holds up the frozen head of the monster to the collective horrified gasp of the crowd as Hale, Val, and eventually, Dyson (dammit! He buttoned his shirt!) fill in behind and around Santiago, “felt bold enough to seek vengeance now is because there is something much worse slouching towards us. The Garuda.” This brings more frightened murmuring from the Fae. “You are all at each other’s throats,” Bo continues, “even more than usual. And the evil that is coming, it is feeding off your collective rage.”
Sturgis tries to stem her flow of infodump. “This is ridiculous!” he shouts at her. “You don’t understand!” But Hale steps in and thwarts him. “No! This is our shot, Dad,” he says, coming to stand with Kenzi and Bo, “to stop the petty grievances with each other and unite the clans! To fight the real threat.”
A random voice from the crowd announces that it’s another Clan Bukharin trick, and Lady Tamzin immediately objects that the Fin Arvin scum would naturally say such things. The crowd murmurs amongst themselves but Sturgis scans the Fae looking as though he’s beginning to understand. Hale’s shoulders drop and Bo puts a comforting hand on his arm. “They’ll never change,” she commiserates. “It’s over.”
But there’s one thing Hale knows he can do to make a difference. “No,” he counters as his gaze lands on a wary Dyson. He slowly crosses the distance between them. “Changing my mind,” he tells Dyson and slams his fist into wolf boy’s face. My closed captions actually say “WHACK!” Ha!
Dyson grunts but takes it as the crowd gasps yet again. Wide-eyed with shock, Kenzi and Bo gape open-mouthed at the two men who glare at one another. Hale shrugs his jacket back into place. “Now it’s over,” he says definitively. Turning to a chagrined Val, he demands that she “give it back” and, sullen, Val scoffs but at a glare from her brother, she waves her hand and returns Kenzi’s voice. “Lava dude’s in here!” Kenzi shouts and immediately is embarrassed as everyone looks at her. “I’m sorry. That was a long hold over.” Bo clasps her arm around Kenzi and leads her away, Hale bringing up the rear, a united if small force.
Sturgis hurries after them, begging his son to wait. “What could you possibly have to say to me?!” Hale demands, finally fed up with his family. But he does stop and Val is there too. Sturgis admits that he only reneged with the cherufe to keep the family safe. Hale gets in his father’s face and counters that he did it because he needs to be in control all the time. “But you can’t control what’s coming!” Sturgis tells him he knows they’ve had their differences, “but when The Garuda comes, we need to stick together, look after our own.”
Hale glances at his sister. “I’ll protect Val,” he agrees. “I always do when it counts.” Bo realizes that Sturgis has known about The Garuda all this while. “You were right, succubus,” he agrees. “I can feel it. The enemy of the Naga, of all the Fae, rises.” Bo: “We’ll fight it.” Sturgis: “You’ll lose. But still, I admire your gumption.” He promises to offer any resources she needs in the coming battle. Sturgis holds out his hand to Hale who takes it. “That’s a start,” he agrees. Sturgis clasps his son’s arm and makes a point of looking directly at Kenzi. “Goodbye Kenzi,” he says politely. He and Val return to the party as Hale, Kenzi, and Bo wordlessly turn and leave. I notice Bo is still totting the cherufe’s frozen head. Heh. Kenzi takes Hale’s arm and pats his shoulder in support. Hale finally notices the wrist corsage she’s been sporting all night. “Is that my Nona’s fascinator?” he asks, mildly shocked. Kenzi smiles up at him and he grins back.
As they walk down the hall, Stalker Dyson prowls into view behind them and gazes after them darkly, watching as his pack leaves him behind.
At Hilton Hovel (drink!), Bo contemplates the glass of red wine in her hand. “This is unbelievable,” she croons. Smug, Kenzi announces that she decided they’d earned a bottle of Sturgis’ rare vintage. Please tell me it’s the Chateau Isoir! Bo wonders what they deserve it for since she wasn’t even able to convince the Fae nobles to fight The Garuda. “I mean, I’m not the best public speaker but I had a great prop, a friggin’ lava monster’s head!” Hale thinks slaying an army of Under-fae still would’ve made no difference. “The families know what’s coming, but they’re scared.” Kenzi objects that they can’t Ostrich the whole deal and hope money and power act as a good enough shield. “They’ve hid behind their privileged, sheltered lives for centuries. It’s made them soft,” Hale says. “My mom used to talk about it,” he adds softly, “told me I could be more. That’s why I became a cop.” Kenzi teases that he’s a great cop at that and they clink glasses in celebration of Hale’s awesomeness. Hip, hip, hurray indeed.
Hale quietly points out to Bo that he’s willing to throw it all away and Kenzi is quick to agree that she’s in too. “And Trick and (Doctor) Lauren and Dyson. We all have your exquisitely toned back.” Bo chuckles and preens coyly. “Why thank you!” but Hale sadly disagrees about Dyson’s level of commitment. “Don’t bet on Dyson,” he says to the woman who has vowed that she trusts the wolf boy above all others. “Besides, I wouldn’t fight at his side anyway. Not anymore.” He downs his wine as Kenzi and Bo exchange worried glances just as Nate’s voice sounds from the open doorway “knock knock!” Hale: “That’s my cue.”
He and Bo stand at the same time. “And I should go to bed before I spontaneously collapse,” Bo says to her bestie and they MWAH one another a good night air kiss. Hale saunters past Nate, who murmurs, with a little bite “you have fun with my girl?” Hale, being awesome merely glances over his shoulder at Kenzi one last time and then tells Nate he’s a lucky man. Nate smiles and pats Hale companionably on the back as Kenzi rushes up. She greets Nate and asks for a sec as she calls out to Hale to wait and hands over the fascinator corsage. Hale insists that she keep it. Kenzi resists taking something that was his Nona’s. “Did I mention the sparkly bits are genuine sapphire?” Hale asks. Kenzi cradles the fascinator close. “Day-am,” she whispers, before forcing herself to offer it to Hale again. “Oh!” she exclaims dramatically, holding a hand up to block her view of the sparkly bits. “No, I can’t! Take it!”
Hale presses it back on her. “You were the perfect girlfriend,” he tells her and Nate flinches to hear it. “You deserve it.” Kenzi smiles and hugs him and for a long minute, Hale clutches her tightly. Once freed though, Kenzi immediately turns back to Nate and does a dance as she displays the fascinator. “I’m fancy. I’m fancy, huh.” she chants. Hale pauses in the doorway of Hilton Hovel to look back and oh my giddy aunt, yep, that is definite, genuine longing on our siren playa’s face. Kenzi & Hale 4Evah!
In Doctor Lauren’s flat (sigh. Do we haveta?!), a dazed NotComaNadia stands at the kitchen sink staring off at nothing. Actually, she seems a little drugged. The camera pans down to show she’s fondling a seriously sharp butcher knife, testing its tip before she draws the blade across her palm leaving a bloody rivet behind. Are we not supposed to notice there’s no blood on the blade?
A weird, whispery sound threads through the soundtrack as though unseen voices whisper to NotComaNadia. She stares at her hemorrhaging hand unconcerned then slowly lifts it to her mouth and laps at the blood. Hey! This is not True Blood people! Not the least because having Alcide and Dyson on my screen at the same time would burn my flat screen to the ground. I know Chelsea Mueller agrees with me.
“(NotComa) Nadia!” Doctor Lauren exclaims. “My God, what happened?!” She rushes into the kitchen as NotComaNadia seems to come back to herself and excuses the wound as a stupid accident. Doctor Lauren quickly binds it wind a towel and wonders what NotComaNadia was doing with the knife. “The knife?” NotComaNadia repeats clueless. “I – I don’t remember. (Doctor) Lauren, I’m scared,” she whispers unconvincingly. The doc, however, despite her allegedly vaunted knowledge, training, and experience, can’t tell a deliberate cutting when she sees it. Instead, she embraces NotComaNadia and reassures her that it’s OK. Hidden now from Doctor’s Lauren’s view, a satisfied, nearly evil smile spreads across NotComaNadia’s face. Dun, dun, DUN!
End Credits.
Fae of the Day:
Cherufe: n. Under-fae. Lava monster made of Mmmag-mmma. Can also disguise itself as rock. One touch from a cherufe starts a chain reaction and you promptly spontaneously combust. Some claim it’s responsible for the eruption of Mount Vesuvius and the subsequent destruction of Pompeii wiping out the Fae Clan Scafati.
Origin: Possibly Chilean
Pombero: n. a type of fae who can steal the voices of others.
Origin: Parts of Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil
Quotes of the Night:
Nate: You are the strangest girls I’ve ever met. Kenzi: Aw. Making with the sweet talk.
Kenzi: Continue with your bro bitchin’.
Kenzi: I’m sorry you guys are having a boy fight.
Hale: Three: Nodded knowingly when you told Bo her shoes were stolen by cobbler elves. Kenzi: Those mules were way too small for her!
Kenzi: No smooching. No groping. And no magical Fae impregnations!
Hale: Harpy! Val: Human hugger!
Dabner: Beauty and brains. So often strangers.
Bo: Oh, they sucked! Kenzi: They so sucked!
Kenzi: You need a tiny human queen to claim your throne?
Majordomo: Kenzi! Hale’s – bitchin’ girlfriend. Of Family What Up? Clan Hey Now!
Val: I plan to drown my sorrows in something…wrong.
Majordomo: The unaligned succubus. Family Unknown. Clan – Bo: Zip it!
Kenzi: Dude! Nate: Dude. Kenzi: DUDE!
Nate: In my defense, you said you were Batman, so…
Kiersten Hallie Krum writes smart, sharp & sexy romantic suspense. Find her snarking her way across social media as @kierstenkrum and on her web site and blog at www.kierstenkrum.com.
