1
My first mistake was getting out of bed.
That’s all I could think as my toes sunk into something slimy at the bottom of the sewer channel. My faithful leather tie-up boots were gone, singed and lost somewhere in a monster’s lair.
I’d loved those boots.
As I sloshed down the tunnel, I wondered how I’d managed to get myself in this situation.
To be honest, today had been wrong from the beginning. The L.A. sky was cloudy. The light a sickly gray color that had practically begged me to go back to sleep.
But I’d been trying to be more responsible lately. And so, I had told myself to put on my pants and slick deodorant under my armpits. Twice, to make up for the skipped shower. I had dug through my dirty laundry until I found a suitable shirt, and went to the Union to work my job.
That had been my second mistake.
Now, in this sewer, I vowed to never go to work again. I was going to die here, anyway. They’d pull my body out weeks later, covered in alien slugs and glowing leeches. It’d scare the living bejeezus out of the poor bastards handling my corpse.
“I’m going to boil myself in disinfectant,” I promised on a whisper. The smell of waste, mold and rotting garbage made me gag, but I swallowed my vomit like a real woman.
That’s me, Aster King II. In yesterday’s clothes, in today’s sewer, and in tomorrow’s list of suspended Union contract workers.
A real-life ladyboss.
I froze when I heard a clang of metal down the sewer tunnel. And then I saw the light.
Well, ballsacks.
I reached into a room within my soul. That’s usually how the supes described it. A little space made of energy and magic. In my soul room, there was a single light switch. That’s the sense I got from it, anyway. It wasn’t exactly something I could see, but I could feel the form of it inside of there. That, and the crackling, steady beat of my low-level gift.
I flipped my power back on. I should have just kept it on altogether, but when I’d dropped into the sewer, I think I’d accidentally shut it off in my state of utter disgust. It happens, right?
Now, my skin tingled as it blended into the darkness once more. Not quite invisible, but very, very hard to notice.
I’m an Unnoticeable person, and today, my magic was more than just a way to avoid security cameras.
I moved toward the concrete wall of the sewer, leaving the center open. I nearly vomited again as I stepped into a deep pile of something soft that felt oddly like raw chicken and dog shit.
God, I miss my bed.
I was regretting every thought and desire I’d ever had in becoming a detective. It’s a stupid, useless job. A waste. Who would put themselves through this willingly?
Idiots. All of them, idiots.
A monster came around the corner. I would have screamed, but I knew this monster was following me.
It tried to eat me. Twice. That kind of animosity doesn’t just vanish.
The thing was ten feet long with reddish scales that glistened in the lamplight. Four-inch teeth dripped saliva into the sewer. An electric camping lantern was hooked over the longest of the bottom teeth.
But all I could stare at were those glistening, fathomless orange eyes. Like something from a nightmare.
I held my breath. Who knew if the monster could sniff out Doritos on the casual woman’s exhale? And was deodorant a good idea or a bad one? The peony and lavender might be a dead giveaway.
There was a connector tunnel perpendicular to this one, and I needed to get to it. From this angle, it looked like it curved, which meant it would be safer than this straight tunnel.
Considering the monster’s fire breath, and such.
I shuffled to my right, stifling a curse when something swam past my leg.
The dragon growled, and his eyes shifted toward me, though still not seeing through my Unnoticeability.
Yet.
It was hard to spot me when I was Unnoticeable in the shadows. I thought of it like a half-transparency power with a side of camouflage spice.
Unfortunately, that meant this dude could manage to spot me if he really, really focused.
I saw the bright fire in the beast’s glowing throat before his jaw opened.
I cursed and leapt across the tunnel, just making it into the other channel as the monster let out a long stream of orange fire.
Totally the deodorant’s fault.
I sprinted down the waterway, or ran as fast as a person can sprint in water, which — spoiler alert — is not very fast.
The toxic mix splashed onto my face, my mouth, my thighs and shirt. I was definitely going to catch the bubonic plague down here. And it was very unlikely my insurance would cover it.
I squealed and took a sharp right down another tunnel.
And then I saw it: sunlight.
I’m free, bitches!
Grinning and panting like a deranged prisoner, I clutched at the iron bars and shook them. Once. Twice.
Fuck.
Slowly, I turned around.
The monster, with all of his jagged teeth, grinned.
2 HOURS EARLIER
When I arrived at Union headquarters this morning, I immediately knew today was going to suck. The lobby was packed with people. And it wasn’t even 8am.
That meant L.A. had Problems, capital P.
That equaled extended hours and hands cramping from mountains of paperwork.
And the people in the lobby? They were all in a panic. All Cuts, of course. Various magic users who don’t fit into the Vampire Coalition, the International Pack, the Great Coven, or the Faery Courts.
The Cuts are a mish-mash of half-something, half-something else. Humans with a sprinkle of power. Shifters with dormant animals. Witches with glitchy spells.
The rejects. The misfits. The mixing pot of magic that created all the squares in today’s world of perfect trapezoids.
We were at the bottom. Well, almost. At least we had one up over the humans, and at least we had the Union.
I even received a warning. Not one that I bothered to heed, but you couldn’t blame me for it. No one could.
After I bypassed the clogged Union lobby, I stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the fifth floor.
Gary, the mail guy, stared listlessly into the reflective metal of the elevator doors. His mop of brown hair looked like it needed a wash three years ago.
“Morning, Gary,” I said cheerily. Sometimes, if I smile, I can trick myself into believing I’m happy.
I grinned wider at my reflection.
Oh dear. Less teeth, Aster. You look like a psycho.
“You’re going to have an awful day,” Gary replied. He stared sadly at himself.
I grimaced. Poor Gary. A clairvoyant with often inaccurate predictions, Gary spoke in little else than wispy metaphors, abrupt announcements like, ‘The apples are peanuts in disguise!’ and ‘Don’t disembowel that opossum!’, along with other discouraging remarks.
“Don’t get yourself down, Gary. I’m sure your day will be fine,” I told him.
See? I was such a good person. Fighting darkness with light, I was.
Gary’s watery brown eyes swiveled to me.
I stiffened. I didn’t think I’d ever seen Gary make eye contact before. I battled between the instincts to either laugh hysterically or punch Gary in a panic.
I settled for smashing myself against the opposite wall and gasping in alarm.
Gary didn’t seem to notice my sudden anxiety. He just repeated, “You’re going to have an awful day.”