The Day Enforcer’s nostrils flared and he lowered his voice to a soft snarl. “I would never hurt Reagan. And I never said she was branded. How did you know that? Are you stalking her?”
Without warning, he swung. I wasn’t expecting the brute to actually put his enforcer skills to use, so I couldn’t avoid his fist in time. He slugged me right across the jaw. My teeth sank into my tongue, and with a groan, I spat blood on the ground. As he slipped into a fighting stance, I slowly settled onto the balls of my feet, knees slightly bent.
“Look, man, your job is to get me inside the mansion in one piece. Are you sure you want to do this right now? Besides, if you cared about Reagan so much, wouldn’t you have saved her before she got hurt?”
“Reagan knows her place. She’s known since she was a child. Sometimes she needs a reminder that Fae scum like you are trouble. She got what she deserved. We don’t help the Fae.” The Enforcer paused, then added, “I wouldn’t have saved her anyway, whether I like what our father did or not. He deals fair punishment and she knows that.”
I straightened, completely mind-blown by the drivel leaving his dumb mouth. For a moment, I thought he might truly care for her, but this . . . this was sick. Fair punishment? A brand to the neck was fair punishment? Mordecai didn’t even do that to the Fae, but he would brand his own daughter?
My stomach churned as I fought the urge to vomit all over this sorry excuse for a man. No, he needed worse than that. Far worse. I curled my hands into tight fists, ready to unleash every ounce of rage roaring through my blood. But, as I took that first step, right before I could end my life—because this Enforcer would no doubt have me killed after I struck him—a flash of light purple barreled toward me.
“Nooope, nope, not today,” a female voice said loudly, halting my progress with a quick shove. Her next words were hushed, meant only for my ears. “Reagan saved your life at great personal risk. Don’t you dare squander that on this piece of crap.”
I made to go around her, too angry to think straight, but she persisted. Like a flea. Like a—Benji. I froze. What was I doing? This tiny, purple-haired woman was right. I couldn’t throw my life away, not when Benji still needed me. I blew out a breath, glancing down at her heart-shaped face. Big brown eyes ringed in silver blinked up at me, almost pleading with me to walk away.
“You’re right.” I rolled my shoulders, tamping down the rage that still demanded I punch this guy’s lights out. “He’s a pile of crap. Thanks for setting the record straight.”
“He is, and you’re going to be late for work. Please. Please, go. Reagan is in enough trouble, and if you’re late . . .” She huffed. “I’ll deal with the puffed-up dragon boy. Go. I’m Nevaeh, by the way.”
If there was one word I understood abundantly clear, it was trouble. And I didn’t want to be the cause of more right now. Reagan had been through enough. “Tarik,” I muttered without thought, peeking through my lashes at the irate Day Enforcer.
“I know,” she said, shoving me some more. I looked at her, confused. How come this shifter knew so much about me? I had never seen her before. A bright pink tattoo on her left forearm caught my eye and I focused on the shape. When I realized what I was looking at, a bubble of laughter almost erupted from me. A chubby pig. With a rainbow unicorn horn on its forehead. I clamped my lips together and met her stare. As if reading my thoughts, she winked, and simply said, “I’m the best friend.”
Despite her short stature and thin frame, she was quite strong. Nevaeh pushed me forward a step, and my legs did the rest. As she maneuvered me around the pompous dragon shifter, I couldn’t resist glowering at him. He glared back with equal intensity. Great. I’d made a new friend.
Walking the rest of the way to the mansion without an escort proved hazardous to my health. Three more rocks struck me, and my shirt now sported a sticky green stain. What the substance was, I didn’t care to know. When I arrived at the mansion—barely on time—a thin shifter with poofy, reddish-brown hair led me down the stairs to the mines.
I decided to nickname him Bushy.
Jocelyn—I couldn’t even imagine what kind of shifter she was . . . poodle, maybe—gave us the grand tour when the last Fae employee was accounted for. “And these are the required uniforms you will all be wearing. Go ahead, put them on. One size fits all.”
I couldn’t quite contain a small eyeroll. Uniforms? They were hazmat suits. Big and yellow and—
As I slid one on, I groaned. Hot. Stifling hot. If I didn’t need the money so badly, I’d be charging up the stairs right about now. This job was going to be hell. I heard a few grunts and curses and glanced at my new coworkers. We all seemed to share a similar train of thought.
And that’s when I noticed something a touch peculiar: Jocelyn was the only female in the room. Mordecai had only hired male Fae. The realization tasted bitter. Perhaps Reagan was on to something. Maybe there was more to this job than mining.
“All right, men.” Jocelyn clapped like a spectator at a carnival. “This way, please.”
As we shuffled after our mother hen, waddling like oversized chicks, she pointed out various nooks. “Here’s where you’ll find the mining tools. One pickaxe and shovel will be assigned to each worker. Treat your equipment kindly, because if you break anything, you’ll be docked pay.”
The bathrooms were next, then a long unlit room she dubbed ‘In
