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There are so many things to hate about them. Their cities are devoid of all natural life. The neat rows of trees lining the occasional street do not count. Even a weed cannot grow here; they have musty and moldy mulch squashing all chances of wild growth next to perfectly manicured flower beds. Some of the grass isn’t even real. Humans seem to think that tiny plastic green blades are preferable, somehow, to the real thing. I think I could spend the rest of this body’s life on Earth, and I still wouldn’t understand these creatures.
Of course, humans are what brought me to this realm. I must know if my fated mate is one of them.
Human women have some short-term appeal with those perky… assets. But it would be one hell of a curse to have a fated mate who was human. They are far below my station. As a Prince of the Fae, I should have a mate equal to my renown. Even as a fragmented soul, I deserve better than a human mate.
The waitress walks by again, her considerable assets jiggling with each motion. I let out a heavy sigh. It’s not her.
Over the speakers, a few radio hosts chatter while dotting their terrible jokes with sound effects.You’re listening to Mad Dog and Maloney on KWX FM. We’ve got TEN minutes of uninterrupted hits coming your way, BUT FIRST…
I swipe my hand down my face, pulling like it’ll make the noise stop if my cheeks come off. The Gods seem to enjoy torturing me, so it’s fitting that a human would be my salvation. It’s moments like these that I justknowshe’s human. A human mate would surely vex me for eternity.
The only thing that humans seem to do well is breakfast food. While I still mourn the lack of decent coffee, I shovel another bite of the crispy hash browns (scattered, smothered, covered, and diced) before finishing my sausage patties. Yes, humans certainly know their breakfasts, and this beacon of hope shining on the side of the road has some of the most exceptional delicacies of all.
I’ve been to many of these establishments before, so I knew when I saw it I had to stop in. Something about the bright yellow sign lit up on the midnight-dark roads of the South makes my heart jump a little in excitement.
I pull out my phone to look at the map where the blue dot marking my current location rests on Gulf Shores, Alabama. It’s taken months to snake my way from the west coast of this country. I’m finally closing in on the eastern seaboard.
One country down in my quest to find my mate.
One hundred and ninety-four left to go.
The sun is barely over the horizon yet. Most of the humans won’t emerge from their domiciles for at least another hour. I pay for the meal at the cash register and leave some money on the table. I don’t understand why they do it, but I just follow suit to fit in.
I open the door for a lucky woman entering The Waffle House as I’m leaving, sniffing at her as she passes. The humidity and heat outside leave a thick layer of condensation on the glass door.
Supposedly, I’ll ‘just know’ when I find my fated mate, but I’m not convinced it will work like that for an abomination like me. What if I’ve already found her somewhere, and we never knew it? What if I missed her ages ago back in Illuemera, and she’s been dead to me for just as long?
The food turns to sludge in my stomach, and I struggle to keep it down.
No, I can’t think like that, or I’ll lose myself again. The hands of despair seem to linger around my throat, poised to take me.
Despondency, grief, those are the only emotions that come easily anymore.
Shaking my head, I clear the thought from my mind. I need to focus. I know I’m getting closer. Hope I’m getting closer. Hope.
Hope is futile.
The dreams are getting worse. I can’t sleep for shit. Rubbing my temples, I sigh heavily, walking towards the old pickup truck I bought in Washington. Images flicker across my mind’s eye. A civil war. Brother against brother. All those bodies. The burning eyes of a scorned lover. A dagger plunging into my heart. A familiar ache lands in my chest like a killing blow.
The memories belong to someone else, but they’re clear as if they’re my own.
I open the squeaky door, hopping onto the torn leather bench seat. Across the street, a Walmart parking lot is already filling up. I let the images simmer and marinate too long, and my shoulders slump as I start the engine.
Another day of trying to smell all the humans I can get near, hoping I’ll feel ‘pulled’ towards one.
My mate.
The one who will make me whole again. And keep the dreams at bay. Maybe she’ll even bless me with the luck of the Gods.
The one I need to find before it’s too late.
I have to tell myself I’m close. I’ll find her soon.
Or even the small hope I do have will be lost.
Standing in the middle of an empty bar, I know immediately something is different about this dream. It’s not quite a Dreamshare, but it’s more than a regular dream too. The buzz of Chroma lines the edges of my awareness, and I breathe it deeply. What I wouldn’t give to touch the source of true power for just a moment. To feel alive again.
Suddenly, a shapely woman in business attire appears in front of me. Her brown hair sways as she turns to face me. A spark of recognition flashes in her hazel gaze. A slow, impish grin spreads across her face. Her nose is crooked, her lips too thin, and her body is padded with more than a few extra pounds.
