Which leaves me hunting for lost coins. I was great at it as a kid, but as society has turned more and more cashless, it is getting harder and harder. No matter how much I may be drawn to coins lying forgotten in gutters and trapped between pavement cracks, there simply is less money in people’s pockets to fall out. I cannot find what has not been lost.
Another heavy sigh escapes me as I glower at the empty sandwich packet. My stomach rumbles in protest. One shitty sandwich was nowhere near enough. I’m so hungry I could cry. But tears never solved a thing.
I drop the empty wrapper on the floor by my feet. Then I lean back against the damp bricks and close my eyes. I’m so damn tired. Of everything.
I’ll rest for a little bit before I go back to trudging around looking for loose change. Who knows, perhaps my luck will change. The fey are having that fancy ceremony later. One of the princes is coming to officially open the new hospital. It should draw a good-sized crowd, and where there is a crowd, there are people selling stuff. Tacky souvenirs, balloons, popcorn and whatever. Hopefully that means people will bring cash, and then lose some.
It is a shitty thing to cling onto. But this is my life now. All thanks to the fucking fey. Those bastards have conquered my world and destroyed my life.
I’d give anything, absolutely anything, to go back to the past. Back to when the Earth belonged to humans and fairies were only make believe.
Back to the cottage with Granny. Back to when I was just funny looking. Back to a time when I humoured Granny when she talked about us being descendants of the fair folk and how the old blood was strong in me.
Life was good then. Life was worth living. Life was simple and easy. Even though I took it for granted.
Now look at me. Hunted, hated, and despised. Barely surviving. All because some distant ancestor of mine had the bad taste to fuck a fey. Well, fuck them and fuck everybody. It is not my damn fucking fault that I look like our evil invading overlords.
“Hi.”
The voice comes out of nowhere. What the hell? I leap to my feet while my heart tries to pound its way out of my ribcage.
I’m not alone anymore. There is a young man standing a few feet away from me. I didn’t hear him approach, and with those impressive thick-soled goth style boots, I should have.
He is wearing dark skinny jeans and a blood red tee shirt. His shoulder length hair is an ebony black that actually looks natural and not dyed.
His eyes are dark too. And very intense.
I swallow dryly. This dude is not fey, I can tell that much. But my skin is still prickling and the hairs on the back of my neck are rising. Something is definitely off about him.
Granny said that there were other things that walked this earth. She was right about the fey, so she is probably right about that as well.
This isn’t a human emo boy standing in front of me in an empty alley.
“What are you?” I croak.
He tilts his head and increases the intensity of his stare. He wasn’t expecting me to realise there was anything strange about him. Shit. I should have kept my mouth shut.
“I’m a wolf shifter,” he says calmly, after a moment.
My eyebrows rise. A werewolf? Those are real? Holy fuck!
“And a necromancer,” he adds. “I’m not sure which you are picking up on.”
I open my mouth. Then I close it again, only to open it once more. The very strange stranger watches my fish impersonation with an amused and slightly smirking expression.
“What do you want!” I finally manage to splutter.
The stranger smiles and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I was wondering if you would like to kill a fey prince?”
Chapter two
My palms are sweating. Really, really sweating. Any minute now, this dagger is going to slide right out of my hand. It is going to fall on the floor and make a loud thunk, and then everyone is going to look at me and it is all going to be over before it has even started.
Holy smokes. I have to get a grip. Literally and figuratively. Okay, I’ll do that therapy thing I read about where you focus on stuff around you instead of your own spiralling panic. What was it again? Oh yeah, find five red things.
I look around the rapidly filling town square. Grey buildings, grey flagstones. Grey sky. A temporary stage made out of large black blocks. There are no flags or bunting. Nobody even has a red coat. It’s all black, white and grey with an odd dash of navy thrown in.
