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“Dominic, no,” I whispered, but it was already too late.
Mathews raised his hands toward him, but whatever magic he attacked with ended up slamming against the door on the other side of the hallway because Dominic ducked down lightning fast. I saw it all as if it was playing in slow motion—when the werewolf swung his spiked bat and when said bat hit Mathews right on the side of his knee, and when he stumbled back, hit the door frame with the side of his head, then collapsed to the floor with a weak cry of pain.
I saw red. My body moved, and before I even realized it, I was in front of them. Mathews was on the floor, his blood coating the crème-colored carpet, and Dominic Dane raised his bat over his head again, his intentions clear.
It was a second’s decision, which, in hindsight, might have not been the smartest idea I’d had. But I stepped in front of him—me, the tiny pixie who washed other people’s dishes and couldn’t hold a gun in her hands. I didn’t attack him. My magic wasn’t powerful, and I’d never used it against a werewolf before, so all I did was stand there and shout, “Stop!” My voice was pretty loud for someone so tiny, too.
And to both our surprises, Dominic Dane stopped. He didn’t bring that bat down on my head like I thought he would. Instead, he stepped back and lowered his arms to the sides, breathing heavily. His green eyes had turned almost completely golden as he held mine, and I could have sworn I saw regret flashing in them for a split second before he gathered himself and shrugged.
“I asked him nicely,” he said, and putting his bat over his shoulder, he turned around and walked away.
He was…he just…argh!
“Fuck!” Mathews cried from behind me, and I turned around, surprised all over again to see him still on the floor, holding his right leg. “He broke it. Fuck, he broke it!”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered and tried to see beneath his jeans, to assess the damage, but there was blood all over, and his hands were squeezing his knee tightly, and I freaked out bad.
“Fucking lunatic!” he shouted at the top of his lungs while I struggled to get my phone out of my purse.
“You’ll be okay,” I whispered. “You’ll be fine, Mathews. I’m calling in the healing crew.”
And I did. Somehow, I got my fingers to work, and I found the number of the healing crew from work, and I called them. Gave them the address. Told them to hurry.
“Wrap this around it,” Mathews said, struggling to get his blue shirt off with one hand, while the other was still locked around his knee.
“Hey, you’re gonna be okay,” I said and did as he asked. “Move your hand a little bit.” I tied his shirt tightly all around his knee and thigh, as tightly as I could. The pressure must have felt good because he leaned down on the floor all the way and sighed. “Don’t sleep, okay? Just stay awake.”
So much blood. His carpet had turned almost completely red with it, and the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Mathews was right—his bones must have been broken, and in several places. Mathews was a selkie—a shapeshifter who turned into a seal when he wasn’t in his human form, and just like all other kinds of fae, including myself, we healed at a much faster rate than humans. But Dominic must have broken his bones to splinters, and Mathews would probably have to get into water and wear his selkie skin before he could heal completely from this.
About ten minutes later, the crew arrived. It consisted of seven nymphs, some of them dryads, some naiads, and one aurae, too—just like Hunter. Though their magic was mostly attuned to the elements, healing came naturally to them, too. They usually stuck to their own environment—dryads were tree nymphs, and naiads usually lived in rivers or springs, and aurae loved the mountains where the wind blew the hardest.
The dryad and two naiads who came to take care of Mathews took him inside and promised me that he was going to be okay. They didn’t let me stay with him because they needed to put him to sleep to work their healing magic on him.
I was shaking with rage. Angry tears pricked my eyes, too, but before I left, I felt the presence of others—two doors were open in the hallway, and humans were looking at me with wide eyes. Damn it, how much had they heard?
On my way out of the building, I made another call to the ODP for a repair crew. They were mostly satyrs—half people, half goats, with curved horns on their heads and everything. They fed on memories and could make any human forget anything by just looking in their eyes. After the lutin crew, they were the busiest bunch in the ODP. They went around after almost every mission to take the memories of humans who’d seen too much. It was a necessity to repair the damage that supernatural creatures left in their trail; otherwise, the whole world would be in chaos. The humans were better off not knowing about what went bump in the night when they were asleep.
All that good mood I’d talked myself into feeling on my way here was gone. The sky was already dark when I made it out in the street, my body still shaking with anger. The guts on that guy. What in the world was wrong with him? Why was he so intent on ruining this for me? Talking shit about me to our boss was one thing, but attacking my partner? That was crossing the line. Half my mind was made up to get to the Headquarters right now and file a report. He was going to end up in jail by morning.
And then I’d be free for real.
“See if you like it when you’re helpless,” I mumbled at nobody in particular as I strode back home. “See if you like it when you’re forced to sit down in the same place every single day without doing anything.”
I’d testify. I was an eyewitness, and I’d seen the whole thing. I was going to get in front of the judge, and I was going to tell them everything I saw. I’d leave nothing out, not even the shrug he gave me at the end, like he couldn’t have cared less about what he’d done. Why would he, anyway? He was a god in the ODP. Nobody messed with the mighty Dominic Dane. Nobody dared oppose him, and now I saw why. Apparently, if you did, he’d just come to your door and break your freaking leg.
By the time I made it back to my apartment, I was seething. I just couldn’t believe it. “What the hell is your problem?!” I shouted at the empty space as soon as I closed the door behind me.
Then, I sighed. It wasn’t even seven p.m., and I was exhausted—but I’d show him. He was going to pay for this, damn it. So, as soon as I changed into something more comfortable and made myself a cup of coffee, I sat down with my laptop and I started on the report, just to make sure I wouldn’t forget any details. When I turned this in, in the morning, it would be perfect. Dominic Dane was going to pay for messing with a tiny little pixie like me.
