And, Gaia help me, I did. What was wrong with me? Now was not the time to pick a fight. Not with her. I looked over my shoulder at the five-foot-nothing slip of a girl. And when I saw the scowl she was giving me, like she could twist my balls off with one hand, my body flushed cold. Then heated. Make up your mind. “Yes, almighty Enforcer?”
She prowled toward me with feline preciseness, hips swaying. What was with female shifters and their hips? “You’ll never get to Fae territory without being seen.”
I snorted. “I’ll survive.”
She finally stopped a foot away, brow furrowing as she reached toward my face, gliding her fingers over my swollen cheek. “They’ll find you again and this time you’ll die.”
I jerked away from her touch, the blood in my veins simmering. “They can try. Haven’t succeeded yet. And what concern is my safety to you? Don’t they follow your example?”
Her hand, still raised in the air, formed a fist. I waited, expecting her to bash me in the face, but she was frozen. No, not quite. Her chest rose and fell sharply, like she wanted nothing more than to hit me, but was trying not to. I wondered why she didn’t. “I’ll take you where you need to go.”
“Don’t bother. You’ve done enough.” At that, her lips thinned, the action wrinkling her pert little nose. The look was almost—Nope. Not going there. Not ever. “Because of you, I’ve probably lost my job. So, if you don’t mind, I’m leaving.”
I finally wrenched the door open and stuck my head into the hallway. All clear. But before I could make my grand exit, having said my piece, she muttered, “You’re alive because of me.”
One last time—I swore this would be the last—I looked at her. “No.” I shook my head, putting as much loathing as I could behind my next words. “I’m dead because of you.”
—
I hated that she’d saved me last night.
Why couldn’t she have left me to my fate? Then this nightmare I couldn’t wake from would be over. And maybe, just maybe—Gaia willing—I’d see her again. She had been the exact opposite of the spunky little Enforcer. Tall and willowy, not short with killer curves. Long blonde hair that glittered in the sun, and a bright smile that never failed to punch me in the gut.
My heart throbbed. I had to stop and focus on my breathing. I leaned against an alley wall strewn with shifter propaganda—some old news about the Great Dragon Mordecai, their lord and savior, freeing them from oppressive Fae control two decades ago. Apparently, the first Fae who had settled in this city forty years ago were explorers. With their pointed ears and raven-like wings sharp as any blade, they’d been revered. Many thought them to be guardian angels.
But they were different than the Fae of modern day. They held a strength greater than the strongest Shapeshifter. And that wasn’t all. With a single touch, they could perform miracles. At least, that’s what humans and shifters used to think. After a while, there were whispers of dark magic. Witchcraft. Those Fae who had risen to power were seen as evil mind manipulators, so they’d been executed. War ensued.
But then something happened. The Fae began losing their strength, their abilities. Shifters saw this as a sign that their gods had cast them out. So Fae became the outcasts. When Mordecai rose to power, he said we were a blight. That we didn’t belong in this realm. You would think he’d let us leave, then, but no. Not that any of us even knew where to find our ancestral land if we had the freedom to choose.
In Nathra City, we were simply guests. Permanent, unwanted guests meant to serve our hosts. The Shift, they called the segregation of our two races.
A bunch of crock, the whole ordeal. Mordecai was a warmonger, plain and simple.
I dug a finger underneath the edge of a poster and ripped the lies off the wall. If only my actions made a lick of difference. Still, I enjoyed crumbling the paper and chucking the ball down the street.
That Enforcer—Reagan, I’d heard her called—would ream my hide for tearing off the poster. Not that it would hurt. How much damage could a girl that size do? Her lion form must not be very substantial either considering she’d never shifted in my presence when I’d been making trouble. I grunted and mentally punched myself. Why was I still thinking of her? Despite what she’d said, she hadn’t done me any favors. And now? Now I was late to my job for the third time this month.
No way would I be given grace again, but I had to try—after I grabbed a shirt, of course. And healed the worst of my injuries.
An hour later, I was jogging toward Smithfield Press where I’d managed to hold down a job for six solid months. A record for me. I had depleted my small well of healing magic, focusing a steady stream on my broken rib—now mended but still aching—and my left eye. Call me vain but a black swollen eye socket was gross to look at.
The stitched scratches on my chest had been free of infection—the Enforcer’s rudimentary administrations might have had something to do with that. All in all, I didn’t look too bad considering how close to death I’d been twelve hours ago.
Behind me, the pattering of little feet distracted my train of thought. I knew who they belonged to without turning around. “Get lost, kid.” I jumped over a broken crate discarded on the sidewalk.
He continued to pursue me like a lost puppy. “You’re late for work. Where were you last night? I could hear Callie meowing all morning, dude. You forgot to feed her again.”
“I’m serious, Benji, get out of here. I’m not in the mood for your questions. Catch.” I tossed him the orange I’d snatched earlier, knowing he needed the sustenance more than I did. Curly blond hair fell over his eyes as he whooped and hollered, like I’d gifted him a toy from his Christmas list.
Normally, Fae were strict vegetarians. We didn’t consume animal meat like a ravenous pack of wolves—that was the shifter’s thing. Our options were limited, especially since we weren’t allowed to shop in their stores. Fruit was a rare commodity in our territory, which made our lifestyle that much more of a challenge.
For the next several blocks, I ignored Benji and his firecracker mouth. He finally grew bored and skipped off, leaving me to my thoughts. With his mom always taking ill, he was practically an orphan. I had snuck into their shoddy apartment across from mine on more than one occasion and tried to heal her. But her sickness was beyond my abilities. If she didn’t get well soon, Benji would be out on the streets to fend for himself. Or worse, taken to the Fae orphanage.
A shudder rippled through me. When I’d come of age five years ago, I freed myself of those walls, but I still had nightmares. Although the kid was a pest at times, I didn’t want that life for him. And I couldn’t take him in. I could barely take care of my cat, let alone an energetic eight-year-old boy.
By the time I made it to Smithfield Press, harsh breaths sawed in and out of my lungs. Maybe my rib needed another blast of healing. No time. I slipped through the back door and clocked in. Quickly throwing on an apron, I got to work and prayed to Gaia that the boss was on lunch break. Maybe he’d chalk up the late timestamp to faulty machinery. Most of the machines in this miserable factory were on their last legs anyway.
But ten minutes later, as I was lifting a fifty pound stack of paper, I felt his presence behind me. More like smelled him. I didn’t think he owned a bar of soap.