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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
FUCKING FAIRY LAWS
Darina
Junis announced his ownership of me loud and proud, and most of the friends in his immediate circle don’t seem to care, though a couple frowned and twitched uncomfortably.
I’ve dealt with my share of entitled jerks. I have strawberry-blonde hair, for one, and being sort-of-blonde seems to give every loser the authorization to be as leery, creepy, and disrespectful as they like. I used to dye my hair as a teen, but the color never lasted long, leaking off by the third wash, and spending hundreds of dollars for a week or two is ridiculous.
I also happen to appear athletic—though other than shaking my ass at Night Hall every weekend, I don’t exercise nearly enough to deserve it. Growing up, I gravitated toward unpopular sports, like archery and fencing. I haven’t had the chance to keep up with either hobby since I started college. My parents offered to pay for my lessons, but I hate taking their money. Besides, between my classes, my research, and the conservatory, I simply don’t have the time. If I sweat these days, it’s because I’m dancing—or, occasionally, fucking. But to the assholes of the world, having a slimmer body is yet another invitation to ogle and harass me to their heart’s content.
I know it’s likely about my frame, because Rain and I get treated like piece of meat on display, no matter how we dress, where we are. By contrast, Rachel, with her auburn locks and soft curves, doesn’t get pestered nearly as much.
Oh, many men and women do a double take when she walks past. She’s stunning, though no one can convince her of it. But while manylook, it is rare for anyone to approach her with the certain conviction that her body is meant for their entertainment.
She gets the shy looks, the clever lines, the drinks sent from the other side of the bar. I get the gropers, the men sliding behind me on the dance floor and rubbing their bodies against my back without asking, the bastards forcing a kiss, or more.
She’s often said she envies the attention I attract. I envy the peace she can savor.
In a life of attracting that kind of animal, Junis takes the cake. He’s a hundred times worse than the man I had to knee in the groin when I was fifteen after he cornered me in an alley, or the football player who snuck into my room during his study session with Rachel, though that moron only dropped his pants while I was wearing a face mask and painting my toenails.
My gaze return to the beautiful, bare-chested man, wondering if he heard the mortifying proclamation.
He did, and he’s crossing the wide space under the canopy to join us.
The crowd’s eyes are on me. I’m used to being watched, as is any musician, but I flush all the same. When I’m watched this closely, I’m usually dressed either in a pretty party dress of my choosing, or in an appropriately somber gown, flute in hand.
“The mortal realm?” a woman at his side sneers, looking me up and down.
From her expression, she’s not impressed so much as baffled and slightly disgusted.
She’s easily twice my height, though I’m only five foot two, so that’s not as impressive as it sounds. Still, I hurt my neck trying to look into her eyes. She’s extremely thin, and her translucent, blueish skin makes her look sickly, though I can’t deny her beauty: impossibly long silver lashes, the bluest of eyes, and a face so delicate she would have seemed like a doll if she hadn’t been speaking. She pairs it with at least eight feet of silver hair falling to the floor.
Her eyes stay on me, a frown marring her brows, like she’s trying to understand what I’m doing here.
“What did you go to the mortal realm for?” someone else asks—a man, this time, a head shorter than me and with wrinkled green skin, clashing with the red of his hair.
In the normal world, I’m short. But since learning of fairies, I’ve seen little folk smaller than cats and people standing much higher than the tallest human. I don’t think there’s a thing such as a norm here.
Anyone mistaking small for weak would have immediately reevaluated their opinion upon seeing the creature sneering at me. Each of his teeth are filed into points, and some are stained red.
He looks hungry. Not the kind of hungry I’m used to, though he also clearly believes I’m a snack.
Redcap.
For the love of…how would I evenknowthat? I can’t recall ever hearing of or reading about redcaps. I bet I’m wrong. I must be.
He’s a bloody redcap and you know it! They come in many shades, usually cooler colors, like green or blue, but their hair tends to be warm colors. Their height is often diminutive, though there are exceptions, and they file their teeth when they come to maturity. Their diet is omnivorous, but they need to drink the blood of their enemies to replenish their magic.
I’m silent and still, trying to understand how a voice in my head, sounding suspiciously like my own, would burst into a detailed description like a talking encyclopedia.
A description of somethingI don’t know.
My attention is thankfully called away when the conversation continues, like I’m not losing my mind over here.
“We have plenty of humans here, and they’re far better trained for service,” says the…thing.
I blink. They have humans? That’s news to me. Maybe someone can help me. I might not really be a regular mortal, but I’m much closer to them than to whateverfreaking fairiesare.
