CHAPTER 1
TheFaerealmwassupposed to be safe for humans. Yet, here I was, backed into a corner, facing three snarling males.
My heart hammered out of control, and my messenger bag hung heavily from my shoulder. It was full of the healing ingredients I bought at Yalgrun’s Wares a moment ago, supplies I couldn’t get back home.
Just a few hours ago, I’d left my condo in St. Louis, walked to Forest Park from my house on Art Hill Ave, and traced my transfer rune on the wooden railing of Steinberg Bridge. The Fae rune was a symbol assigned only to me, which granted me passage to Elf-hame, specifically to a trading post in the small, bustling town of Pharowyn, a town I’d visited safely a thousand times.
But now, in front of me, was the evidence that the sense of security I’d felt during my previous visits was as false as my nonna’s teeth. If only I’d sensed something was wrong, I might have returned home and wouldn’t be facing the chilling looks of the three very tall, very buff Fae who were eyeing me as if I was about to become their next meal.
Suddenly, I felt as if I were in no-man’s-land and not the fairyland that maintained a diplomatic relationship with my realm.
“What do you want?” I demanded, as my back hit the wall behind me.
They didn’t respond.
I tried to run out of the tightening circle they’d formed, but the male to my right—a Fae whose pointed ears were quite visible thanks to his platinum-blond cropped hair—blocked me.
“I’ll scream if you don’t let me pass,” I threatened.
The male on the left smirked. He had skin the color of mahogany and eyes like warm honey. His face was framed by a couple of long braids that fell from his otherwise short, coiled hair. A glint in his gaze told me no one would help me, no matter how loudly I screamed.
I cast a glance through the gap between my assailants’ muscled arms and caught a glimpse of a woman on the other side of the street. She had paused and was looking at me as if I deserved whatever was coming my way.
Really? Why?
Did she think I was a trouble-making human? Was I? Maybe I’d inadvertently done something wrong, committed some faux pas I wasn’t aware of. I mentally retraced my steps since I’d arrived and couldn’t find anything.
After tracing my rune on the bridge, I appeared in a quaint tavern at one of the many tables assigned for that purpose. Appearing and disappearing wasn’t exactly what happened. No one could really do that. What the rune did was break the membrane between one realm and the other, transferring one’s reality to a Fae location that occupied the same time and space. It was all very technical, and I’d learned all about it in high school, though I’d forgotten most of it. Healing magic was my jam, mages like my brother, Leo, could concern themselves with those other details.
It was early on a Saturday morning, and the tavern had been buzzing with an assortment ofSkews, which was what humans with no supernatural abilities were called back home—not that the Fae used those terms. To them, there was the Fae, and then there was everybody else. The point was that the tavern was crawling with people from my realm, as well as the Fae servers who worked there.
I got up from the table where I’d appeared—they were supposed to be left empty to allow others to transfer by using their own runes—and took a seat at a small, round table for one.
A slight Fae, thin as a rail, rushed toward.
“May I serve you, respectable lady?” he asked in a lilting accent. He wore a green tunic with carved buttons and cropped brown pants. His bare feet were stuffed in thin leather shoes that molded to him perfectly. Two small horns protruded from his forehead, and a garland of wild flowers rested on them.
“Good morning,Abin Cenael,“ I said, calling himrespectable sirin return. “I would like a cup of jasmine tea and a honeyed bun with goat cheese.”
He inclined his head. “Serving you is my pleasure. You won’t have to wait but a minute.”
In seconds, he was back with my breakfast, which I’d enjoyed immensely, though it was now souring in my stomach. After that, I’d done my shopping and headed back toward the tavern with the purpose of returning home.
No, I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Despite the female’s mean stare, I couldn’t help the plea that rose to my lips. “Help me.”
She huffed in disgust and pranced away on hooved feet that clattered against the cobblestones.
My eyes flicked back to the males. Who were they? Guards? They certainly were armed to the teeth with swords and daggers. Whatever they were, they appeared lethal and authoritative—not the kind of males anyone would want to cross, especially to help a visiting human.
The one in the middle loomed over me, all seven feet of him. He had long, red hair swept to one side and green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. He wore an elaborate gold-trimmed leather jacket, unbuttoned at the front to reveal a tattooed torso lined with heavy muscles. The hilt of his sword peeked above his head, promising violence.
I fought the urge to lower my gaze, and instead, held my head high. He raised a perfect red eyebrow, appearing mildly impressed by my pluck.
“I will turn you all into horny toads if you don’t get out of my way,” I lied, pretending I was a witch and putting a growl in my voice, though I wasn’t sure it was very convincing. My normal day consisted of communicating with sick children, who always brought out the sweetest side of me. I wasn’t used to dealing with Fae a-holes.
The platinum-haired guy inclined his head and spoke with a purr. “You will find the horny part easy to do, I think. In truth, you probably only need to worry about the toad part.”