by R. J. Blain
The sun had sunk below the horizon by the time I escaped the dean’s office. A pair of police officers, both werewolves in their bipedal wolf forms, stood guard outside the double doors of the administration building. They took one look at me and moved to stop me.
“You will need an escort,” one snarled at me, showing off all his teeth. At least, I thought it was a he—I still hadn’t been able to figure out how to distinguish male and female werewolves, or if they even had genders in their transformed state.
“The dean had some questions. I’m sorry to bother you,” I replied.
“Doesn’t he always?” the cop complained, shaking his head. “Where do you live, Miss?”
“Off-campus housing. It’s across the street from the gates.”
“I’ll take you myself, then. That’s a short enough hop. Hold down the fort, Misha,” he growled out, jumping to the ground rather than taking the steps. I followed at a sane pace, wondering how many bones I would break if I attempted to skip all twenty of the stone steps.
Probably all of them, considering how my day was going so far.
“Consider the fort held,” my escort’s partner replied, snuffling. It took me a moment to realize the werewolf was laughing.
Werewolves moved fast; I took three steps for every one of my escort’s, and by the time we reached my apartment building, I was bathed in sweat and ready to call it quits. The cop waited long enough for me to get inside before he darted across the street, jumping over a car rather than waiting for it to pass.
Being a normal, ordinary human in a world full of monsters sucked. Were there any other regular people left? The President’s speech led me to believe so, although I wondered how long we’d survive.
Not all dae would be like the vampire tattoo artist, who had a vested interest in not killing his clients—and fellow black market runners. I had heard his warnings loud and clear, and after what had happened to Claudia, there was definitely something to his warning about human-seeming dae being among the more dangerous.
I liked living, and I had worked too hard escaping the lowest castes to get eaten by a monster. I trudged up the steps to my floor. Despite everything, I was better off than I had been before the dae showed up. I had a refrigerator full of food, enough cash in my pocket to last a few weeks, and I hadn’t gotten fired by the dean on my first day.
I unlocked my door, stifling a yawn as I stumbled into my apartment.
The unicorn was back, standing in my kitchen and snorting at Colby. I had no idea one word could convey so much, but Colby was discussing something with the other dae. The unicorn seemed interested enough in my macaroni and cheese’s dialogue.
I sighed, closed the door behind me, and headed for the living room, coming to a halt two steps later.
A man with webbed wings, feathers instead of hair, and a spade tail lounged on my couch feeding grapes to a dragon perched on his knee. Clear and golden jewels decorated the dragon’s hide. It stared at the grape held just out of its reach, its tail lashing back and forth.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I closed my eyes and sighed. “Unicorn, check. Macaroni and cheese, check. Naked, winged man on my couch, check. Dragon, check. Am I missing anything?”
“Mommy!” Colby squealed, and several seconds later, something a little wet and rather squishy collided with my shins.
“Hello, Colby. Would you care to explain what, exactly, is going on here?”
“Mommy,” was the solemn reply. I’m sure a wealth of knowledge lurked in his single word speech, but it was beyond my understanding.
Too tired to argue, I decided it didn’t matter what was going on—or why. I was probably better off not knowing. I opened my eyes and turned my attention to the dragon on my other guest’s knee so I wouldn’t get too good a look at what I was missing. “Please tell me there is no one in my bedroom.”
The dragon stood up on its hind legs, fanned its wings, and chirped, “But lying is unbecoming, Miss Daegberht.”
Great, my unexpected guests knew my name. “My bathroom?”
I was whining. I heard it in my voice, but I was powerless to stop the way my voice wavered. Tears burned in my eyes. If I couldn’t go into my bedroom because of unwanted guests, I at least wanted to take an undisturbed bath.
“Oh, yes indeed. It would be rude to occupy your bathroom right after you have come home from work. Very discourteous of us.” The dragon stretched out its neck and shook itself like a dog. “Please do enjoy your bath, Miss Daegberht. Do take your time, as it will be an hour or so before dinner is served, I’m afraid.”
It was rude to take over my bathroom but not my bedroom? I counted to ten, and when the urge to hit something didn’t fade, I counted to ten again.
I did so several more times before I could speak without snapping and snarling like a werewolf. “I see. Thank you.”
Maybe they were uninvited guests, but I would be polite.
It was much safer to have good manners when my guests could probably kill me without putting too much thought into it. For a long moment, I considered turning around and braving Baltimore after curfew. Could the city at night really be more dangerous than my apartment and its out-of-control, dae-spewing refrigerator?
I had my doubts, but instead of screaming my frustration like I wanted, I retreated to the relative safety of my bathroom.
Nine
Dae, apparently, favored suits.
With the help of the medications prescribed to treat my assortment of burns, I felt almost human by the time I finished soaking. While tempted to stay in the cool water longer, I had turned into a living prune, which aggravated my already raw skin. Hiding in the bathroom wasn’t going to make my problems go away. I was no closer to figuring out what to do about my uninvited guests, but I’d deal with the problem one way or another.
Maybe if I politely told them to get out, they’d listen.
Dressing in my smoky, soot-stained clothes didn’t thrill me, but I did it anyway, as I wasn’t about to leave the bathroom wearing nothing more than a towel. Careful to avoid staring at my reddened face in the mirror, I gathered my composure, reminded myself violence didn’t solve all that many problems, and left the relative safety of my bathroom.
The vampiric tattoo artist was wrestling on the floor with the naked man with bat-like wings and spade tail. The vampire was nice enough looking, but his competition, with a sheen of sweat on his dusky, nude skin, was worth staring at. I did so, my eyes wide.
Heaven and hell rolled around on my carpet, and my frustration spiked while I wondered what I was missing—and weighed the risks of finding out. My face burned, and I spun around before I did something I’d regret—like get anywhere near two sweaty men with sinfully pretty bodies.
My life simply wasn’t fair.
“Really, you two are being quite rude to our hostess. Do put an end to that nonsense before you damage something—or embarrass her any further,” the dragon scolded, and from the sound of its voice, it was in the kitchen.
With the way my day was going, it was probably romping with my macaroni and cheese and the unicorn. There was only one good thing about my situation: neither Rob nor Kenneth were around to witness the insanity.
Kenneth would find some way to use it against me. Rob would posture and proclaim that he owned me. Of the two, I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to avoid more. Kenneth brought a lot more problems with him, but he was a familiar, comfortable annoyance.
While Rob hadn’t actually done harm to me or put my livelihood at risk, when he showed up, things became dangerous. It was a miracle I still had my hair after my close brush with Claudia, and I had no idea what would have happened if Rob hadn’t decided to snap the neck of the pink-winged werewolf.
I decided both were trouble, and a smart woman avoided trouble whenever possible. Making Kenneth’s sort of trouble go away was simple enough, if I could pull it off. All I had to do was recover his money and find his drugs. Terry Moore was dead, but I could sniff out his past w
ith a bit of work.
There was something calming about planning for the future and taking steps to protect myself. I drew a deep breath, held it until my lungs burned, and released it in a quiet sigh. Escaping Kenneth’s clutches was the first step to finding my place in the world.
The strange dae making themselves at home in my apartment were merely an inconvenience. I dealt with those all the time. That two of them were naked and attractive made no difference in the grand scheme of things.
Inconveniences were dealt with, filed away as bad memories, and ignored whenever possible.
“If you’re going to be guests in my apartment, please wear clothes,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. While my skin was still too tight and sore from so much exposure to heat, I no longer felt like an overcooked roast. If I saw the cops who had recommended the cream—and made sure I got it on the government’s dime—I would have to thank them.
The stuff really worked.
“Mommy!” While Colby’s vocabulary was limited, I had no trouble recognizing the laughter in its voice.
“Clothes, please,” I said, and I was quite proud of my even tone. I was torn between laughter and tears at the absurd ruins of my life. Why couldn’t I, for just a few minutes, be a normal woman?
Lily could—and would—have joined both men on the floor without a second thought. I didn’t want to be jealous of her, but I couldn’t help it.
She could have anyone, and if the unblemished skin of my elbow was any indication, the only man I could touch without consequence thought I was a piece of property.
“Yes, please do put your clothes on, you inconsiderate louts. This is not your home. Go play with each other in private. I certainly do not wish to see you two like that. I apologize for them, Miss Daegberht. Youth these days. They simply do not know their manners, do they?”
“Not at all,” I agreed. Did I count as a youth to a dragon? It probably didn’t matter, since they had invaded my apartment. “Are you planning to return to your own homes tonight, or will I need to make sleeping arrangements for you?”
“Such a considerate hostess,” the dragon murmured. “Rest assured, Miss Daegberht, we will be returning to our domiciles anon.”
“Colby excepted,” I added. Forcing the consequences of my culinary disaster on someone else didn’t seem fair, and Colby made one damned good roommate.
“Of course, of course.” The dragon laughed, although I had no idea what it found funny. Was the idea I’d take responsibility for the odd little dae so amusing?
More likely than not, Colby didn’t need my help to get by. If its cleaning abilities were any indication of its life skills, my sentient macaroni and cheese would do well enough on its own.
I tried not to think too hard about how outclassed I was as a normal human. Things were difficult enough for me as it was.
“They’re in proper attire now, Miss Daegberht,” the dragon announced.
What classified as proper attire to the dae? I turned around, tense in case the dragon was leading me on.
Dae, apparently, favored suits. I never thought the tattoo artist would clean up so nice, but he did—and the winged one was even better dressed. It took every bit of my willpower to prevent myself from cursing at my misfortune.
“Very nice,” I said, meaning it. “Not to be rude, but what exactly are you?”
The way they both smiled triggered every last one of my internal alarms. Maybe I was inexperienced by necessity, but I recognized predators when I saw them, and I faced two of them. I clenched my teeth, narrowed my eyes, and stood my ground. “I know what you are, vampire,” I added.
The tattoo artist pouted. “Sullivan.”
“I am what you would refer to as an incubus, my dear,” the other replied, and he took a step towards me. “You’re lovely, you know.”
I arched a brow, took one good look at myself, and burst into laughter. “Trust me, I’ve seen my reflection in the mirror. If you want lovely, I can give you an address. You’ll have to fight her pimp for her, but hey, if you want lovely, she’s it.”
Lily would forgive me for the mess to have a chance at someone so gorgeous. She probably wasn’t human anymore, either, so an incubus probably wouldn’t worry her one bit.
“No eating our hostess,” the dragon chided.
“I wouldn’t!”
“On purpose,” the vampire muttered.
I sighed. “Do you have a name, Mr. Incubus?”
“Earl.”
I didn’t know many Earls, but none of them oozed sex appeal quite like the incubus did. Most of them came from the fringe, like me, and embraced their roles in life with enthusiasm. I doubted any of them had ever worn a suit in their life, nor would they care to. Whether the consequence of nature or nurture, they hadn’t been the type to try to break out of their birth rank.
The elite loved men like that: easy to control, easy to please, and hard workers.
“I’m not interested, but I’m still pleased to meet you, Earl,” I said, and the truthfulness of my declaration depressed me. I really wasn’t interested in a shortened lifespan, and some things weren’t worth the risk—including death by sex with a gorgeous man.
But damn, he was tempting. Incubus, indeed.
His eyes widened while everyone else laughed. Deciding I had won that round, I headed for the kitchen, slumped across the counter, and asked, “What’s for dinner?”
The dragon opened its mouth to reply, and the unicorn kicked it across my apartment. It squealed, smacked into the far wall, and slid to the carpet. “Don’t ask,” the unicorn said, then turned its attention to the pot on the stove, picked up the spoon in its mouth, and gave the contents a stir.
I worried, but I kept my mouth shut.
Dinner looked like beef stew and tasted like beef stew. What looked like beef stew and tasted like beef stew had to be beef stew, and that was that. My determination to cling to my ignorance would get me killed.
Of all of us, Colby ate the most. I had no idea where it packed it away or hid the evidence of its gluttony. There was no sign Colby had eaten anything at all. I wasn’t really surprised when the dragon gorged on enough food to feed me for a week.
Earl ate more like a bird, and Sullivan regarded the stew as though it would poison him if he touched it.
“You invited me over for a bite,” the vampire whined, prodding at his meal with his fork. “This was not what I had in mind.”
“Bite Earl,” I suggested. “Incubus like it rough, right?”
“You, Miss Daegberht, have a very pretty face but a very nasty mouth,” Earl muttered.
“I am merely feeling guilty I interrupted your entertainment earlier,” I replied, stifling a yawn. If dinner guests were going to be a trend with the dae around, I was going to have to invest in stools. While the unicorn and the dragon didn’t seem to care, Earl, Sullivan, and I stood around the counter in the kitchen.
I could have suggested we eat in the living room, but sitting down in such close quarters with two men seemed like a good way to earn a few extra rashes I really didn’t need. The ones from shaking hands with Terry Moore were still around, although the burn medications did a good job of counteracting the reaction.
At least none of my guests seemed interested in invading my personal space.
“You’re quite the interesting individual, Miss Daegberht,” the dragon said. “When I was told about you, I simply had to see for myself if what I had heard was true. Fascinating.”
I frowned, wondering who was talking about me and why. “What, exactly, were you told?”
Opening its mouth, the dragon displayed all of its sharp, pointy teeth. “That you were absolutely, positively, and without a doubt, the most normal person left alive. To think there’d still be someone like you around.”
The undertone of scorn in its voice put me on edge. I scowled. If the dragon knew I broke out in hives whenever someone—except bloody, stupid Rob—touched me, he’d swallow his words. With luck, he’d choke on them
. “I see.”
“Normal and completely unflappable,” Sullivan said, saluting me. “Ignore him. He likes to think himself so superior.”
“I am,” the dragon snapped, snorting fire in the vampire’s direction. After my day, the display seemed almost pitiable.
The unicorn turned and, once again demonstrating it had wicked aim, cracked both of its hind hooves into the dragon, launching it across my apartment. “You are rude.”
Instead of flopping to the floor like before, the dragon punched through the drywall, leaving its rump dangling out of the opening. I sighed at the damage. Over the years, I had picked up the skills to do repairs, but it was money I didn’t want to spend—and no one would believe me if I said a unicorn had kicked a dragon’s ass out of my kitchen for mouthing off.
Then again, maybe they would. The world was a strange place made stranger still by the Dawn of Dae. It didn’t matter. What did matter was getting the destructive forces of nature out of my apartment so I could get some sleep.
“I have work tomorrow. Thank you very much for cooking, but please get the fuck out,” I said, pointing at the door. “Destroy someone else’s home, thank you very much.”
“Mommy!” Colby agreed.
My unwanted guests left—eventually. I wasn’t sure exactly when they departed; I had given up trying to get them to leave and collapsed in an exhausted stupor on my bed without changing clothes.
When morning came and my tablet’s alarm warned me I was about to be late, I was alone. I staggered into the living room to discover Colby hard at work repairing the damage to the wall.
“Damn, you’re good,” I blurted, wondering how it had managed to fit a new piece of drywall in place without any evidence of a seam. When I did it, there was always some stupid line betraying where I had patched a hole. Once I got around to painting—or Colby decided to do it—no one would suspect a dragon had taken flight with the help of a unicorn.
“Mommy!” Colby bounced in place and stopped working.