Excerpt: Beautiful Dirge

Someone is in my apartment. That was the first thought I had when I woke up unexplainably in the early hours of the morning. I could feel their aura making its way toward me, as I lay sprawled across the cheap mattress in the farthest corner of the apartment.

If it hadn’t been for my years of training, I probably wouldn’t have been able to keep my muscles relaxed or my breathing steady. My glasses, which I had ripped off as I fell, half clothed and exhausted onto the “bed”, were still clutched loosely in my hand, as was the gun beneath the pillow my head had never reached.

I stayed perfectly still until the intruder was in the doorway to my room before sitting up, putting on my glasses, and drawing my gun, all in one fluid motion.

“I have missed your friendly greetings.”

Leaning against the doorway, half blended with the shadows, was a man that, despite the fact that I couldn’t see him, I recognized. Letting out a frustrated sigh and gritting my teeth, I lowered my gun before getting up and pulling on my discarded jeans.

“Such a pity. You look good in red.” I could hear the smirk in his words. He probably wasn’t even really looking. He just wanted to bother me with the fact that he knew what color underwear I was wearing.

I clenched my jaw and pulled the zipper up with unnecessary force. I tucked the gun into the back of my pants. “Can’t you just knock like everyone else?”

I saw movement as he pushed off of the wall and moved into the room and a ray of moonlight coming through the window. His long, moonlight colored hair was pulled into a ponytail. In contrast, shadow colored features blended perfectly with the night around him. His dark purple eyes shown darkly as he glared at me.

He reached behind me and pulled out the gun, letting the cold metal brush against the exposed skin of my lower back. It took all of my willpower not to shiver.

“Do you always sleep with a weapon under your pillow?”

“Work has been rough,” I said, proud that my voice had stayed steady.

“Rough?” he asked, a humorless smile forming on his full, midnight lips. “Unexplained murders of rogue faye showing up on human news reports equates to ‘rough?’”

“They are not unexplained. Your king needs to keep his people on tighter leashes.”

“The murderer is unknown to us. They use weapons that have never been seen, and they kill without leaving a trace of their own aura,” he explained. He paused for a moment, staring at the gun. The direct touch of the iron on his unprotected hand must have been starting to sting, but he seemed not to notice. He grit his teeth and glared at me as his eyes met mine. “He is your king as well.”