“Morning, Benji,” I drawled as he scooped Callie, my gray and white cat, into his arms.
“Hi, Tarik,” he mumbled, clearly distracted. “Can Callie stay at my place today?”
“Sure, kid. But don’t feed her so much catnip this time. She was yowling and jumping off my head all night.” I ducked down, peering into the ancient mini fridge. Empty shelves stared back. I groaned, thunking the door closed. Shopping wasn’t high on my priority list these days, but something besides tomatoes for breakfast would be a nice change.
“I’ll be on the roof. Don’t skip school today.” At his grumble, I laced some authority into my words. “I’m serious, Benji.”
He dragged Callie off the bed and scampered across the room, slamming the apartment door shut with a little too much force. I grimaced as the tenant above me shouted. With a click, I unlocked my window and slid the glass up, folding my body in half as I climbed onto my balcony. The small cement slab had been turned into a garden as all Fae itched to do with any available space given them.
Every surface was covered in green, the majority of the plants edible. I plucked a bright red tomato from the vine before swinging onto the rusty escape ladder that led to the building’s flat roof. Once on top, I planted a foot on the roof’s edge and bit into my breakfast, taking in the panoramic view. This early, the sky was still a dusky blue, only a slight yellowing at the horizon. The Fae district was old and rundown, unwanted by the shifters. Everything—from the buildings’ dirty exteriors to a few rickety bikes in the pothole-riddled streets—spoke of poverty.
But, if anything, Fae were resourceful. Rain barrels dotted the flat rooftops as well as fruit-bearing trees in large pots. I could even see corn stalks swaying in the breeze on an adjacent high-rise apartment. My kind was downtrodden, but we managed. We always found a way to survive.
Even those of us who didn’t want to.
And that’s why I stayed away from them. I was the bad apple. The disease. Anyone who got close to me would sooner or later regret doing so. Those I’d once called friends had finally let me be. It helped that I spent most of my evenings at The Pit where no other Fae dared to go. I had tried, again and again, to discourage Benji from invading my personal space, but he was like a flea on a dog. Persistent. No matter how many times I plucked him off, he jumped back on.
But, besides him, I was alone. Well, I had Callie, but she wasn’t really mine. Technically, she was—I stopped myself from thinking her name. Sucking in a breath, I pushed memories of wavy blonde hair and infectious laughter from my mind. They were always there. Always hovering. And that’s why I came up to the roof every morning at dawn.
I settled cross-legged on the smooth, still-cool concrete, hands loosely resting on my knees. Closing my eyes, I sought the one thing that had eluded me for three solid years.
Inner peace.
—
“Go back to your territory, Fae scum!”
A rock sailed toward me and I didn’t have time to duck. The pain was sharp and instant, a pulsing throb between my shoulder blades. I gritted my teeth but kept moving forward. Where was the Day Enforcer from yesterday? Lazy, good-for-nothing—
A dark blue dragon dropped from the sky and, with a boom, landed right in front of me. I stopped, searching the light blue eyes for signs of intelligent life. Was the Day Enforcer hungry? Maybe he hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and was hankering after a piece of Fae meat.
His scales retracted—the tail and wings shrank, and the snout smooshed inward—until all that remained was a nude god. At least, that’s what I assumed he thought of himself as he struck a pose. Didn’t he feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable dangling in the wind like that?
“Are we done here?” he said, ignoring me entirely as he peered past my shoulder. The harassing shifters skittered off. That simple, huh? He finally looked at me. “You’re welcome.”
I stared at what I knew to be Mordecai’s son, even if I’d never spoken to him before. He kept puffing out his chest, trying to look down his nose at me. I was taller than him. “Oh. Yeah,” I drew out the word. “Thanks for the show. The sight of naked male shifter first thing in the morning gets me all hot and bothered.”
“Doubtful,” he said, sliding into a prowling circle reminiscent of his father’s. “But I have heard some rumors. About a certain Night Enforcer getting you all hot and bothered.”
At the insinuation, heat flushed up my neck. But admitting that I knew Reagan, even as an acquaintance, would set this guy off. Something unsettling glinted in his gaze. Creepy. “The Night Enforcer?” I pretended to think, scratching at the side of my head. “Never heard of him. I don’t get out much past dinnertime. You know, being an early-riser and all.”
“Yeah. You’re full of crap.” He scowled, rage now glittering in his eyes. “You see, I had a nice chat with my father yesterday. Because after running Fae up and down the border all day, I came home to find my Reagan slumped on the mansion floor. Unconscious. I carried her home, and then I found out about the interesting details of your interview, ScarFae.”
I blinked. Crap. He had me there. But something he said snagged my attention. Not the fact that he knew about my Pit nickname or the botched interview, but that he had been there for Reagan. Had carried her away from the problems I had inflicted. That knowledge doused my simmering anger. And the preening peacock seemed to think Reagan was his. But what if . . .
“How do I know you didn’t burn that mark into her neck? You’re Mordecai’s muscle. I mean, makes
