"Ugh, I hate ghouls," I cursed under my breath, heeled combat boots slapping against the wet pavement. The rain was relentless, drumming against the cracked asphalt, washing the city's filth into clogged storm drains.
I rounded the corner of a dingy back alley, pulling my Aetherion Mk II phaser from my thigh holster and squinting into the darkness. The neon glow from a half-dead sign flickered against a puddle, casting sickly green ripples across the waterlogged street.
"Where are you, you bastard—there!"
A dark shape darted ahead. I fired twice, the stun blasts hissing through the rain before slamming into a dented dumpster. The impact sent a sharp, metallic screech echoing through the alley, and a trio of rats scurried straight at me.
"Oh my God, ew, ew!" I side-stepped onto my toes, barely avoiding them before glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one heard my embarrassingly high shriek.
I released a nervous laugh, holstering my weapon and pulling my high pony tighter as I took off down the alley. "Get your shit together, Lacey. You're a badass, remember?"
Heck yeah, I was.
I was Lacey Sterling, Vanguard Police Force's mostly newly minted detective. I was a protector of the people of the City of Ebonspire. Upholder of justice. Vanquisher of evil. I was—
I was stuck.
Like, literally.
The heel of my boot had sunk into a rusted sewer grate, sending me tumbling down to rain-slick sidewalk. My black leather bodysuit—fresh from the dry cleaners—landed with a mortifying squelch.
A low cackle echoed through the alley, barely distinguishable from the distant rumble of a hover car backfiring. My ghoul. Watching me struggle.
I yanked my foot once. Twice. "Oh, curse it all to Hell."
With a growl, I flicked a switchblade from my munitions belt and pried the heel off one boot, then the other. Pushing to my knees, I wiped the rain streaming down my face and took off down the alley once more.
Whoever designed these boots as standard issue obviously didn't have Ebonspire's safety top of mind.
It was bad enough that regular crime was on the rise—pick-pocketing, vandalism, the occasional back-alley brawl. But a string of murders targeting career criminals? That was different.
Over the past few weeks, bodies had been turning up in gutters and abandoned buildings—every single one of them a certified scumbag. Drug traffickers. Arms dealers. Enforcers who'd broken bones for a living. The kind of people the world wouldn't miss.
And yet, I couldn't shake the unease curling in my gut.
Murder was murder. No matter how vile the victim, no matter how much better off the city might be without them, there were rules. Laws. Justice had to be served the right way—not by some masked executioner hiding in the shadows.
The whole thing reeked of the Crimson Syndicate.
Which meant I needed to take this ghoul down. Now.
I rounded another corner and spotted the ghoul darting toward an old, decaying industrial building. Rust streaked down its moss-covered walls, and shattered windows gaped like jagged teeth.
I fired.
One shot grazed its shoulder. It shrieked, stumbling before disappearing into the darkness.
I skidded to a stop, heart hammering. Time to end this.
I hit the button on my wrist-mounted ShadowLink comm unit, speaking into my sleeve. "I've got the perp trapped. He's in some crusty old warehouse—looks like a defunct energy mill? I'm about to head in."
"Copy that," Isla—my counterpart and faerie-tech-sister—echoed back. "Watch your six, Lace. I've got backup on standby."
I sprinted through the night, gripping my Mk II tighter. This part of Ebonspire was nothing but a graveyard of forgotten industry—half-collapsed buildings, rusted-out street lamps flickering like dying fireflies, the occasional corpse dumped in an alleyway when someone pissed off the wrong people. Not that anywhere in this city was safe these days.
The warehouse entry loomed ahead, massive double doors hanging askew on broken hinges. I shoved one side open. It groaned in protest, screeching like some kind of wounded beast.
Inside, the air reeked of damp rot, old oil, and something far worse—coppery, putrid, the unmistakable stench of death. Water dripped from cracks in the ceiling, pooling in a large, shadowed puddle at the base of a ceramic silo. To my left were stairs up to a second storey cat walk and to my right were a row of shelves filled with long forgotten crates of… was that bone?
I stepped forward—only for something brittle to shatter beneath my boot.
Kneeling, I scooped up the jagged shards of what was—yep—definitely a skull. "Well, that's not creepy at all," I muttered, forcing a laugh before chucking them back down. With a deep breath, I wiped my hands on my leather suit and pushed to my feet.
A ley line mill. One of the old ones, back from when the Fae ran the show around here—because nothing says follow-my-rule-or-else like stuffing power into dead things—power only they could wield.
These days, magic was stored in leycrystals—gems like moonshale, necrolite, and whatever else could be mined from nearby mountains. They worked like batteries, drawing energy from the veins crisscrossing beneath Ebonspire to power everything from hover cars to refrigerators. Anyone could use them, no matter the species. Some—mostly the uptight showoffs in Uptown—even stitched them into clothing or set them into jewelry. Practical, accessible, and way less horror-movie chic—perfect for a city as diverse as Ebonspire.
But in this rotting husk of a warehouse? The energy was stale, warped. Lingering like an old ghost. Even as a boring 'ole human—a magicless stonebound who had to rely on leycrystals—I could still feel it. A hum just beneath my skin, like static before a storm.
Bang!
I whirled around as the warehouse door slammed shut, reverberating through the cavernous space like a gunshot.
A shrill giggle echoed from the dark.
I cursed under my breath, easing my finger onto the trigger as I moved deeper into the warehouse. "Come out, you bastard. It's time to play."
Speaking of Fae, where was their damn High Council when you needed them? Probably off in their fancy district sipping moonpetal tea while the rest of the city went to hell.
What happen to order? To due process and jurisdiction? To the organizations of this city standing together instead of bickering like pixies at a drama club audition? The Fae High Council had more than enough resources to take out this ghoul—and perhaps even dismantle Crimson entirely—but alas, Ebonspire's safety had dwindled its way into the hands of a rookie detective.
Sexy hands, I might add. Capable. Dainty. And with freshly manicured—
I spun, training my Aetherion Mk II on a pair of glowing red eyes peering out from a shelf several paces away. "Surrender or I'll shoot!"
The ghoul cocked its head, its thin lips pulling into a too-wide grin.
Now that I had a good look at it, the thing was even worse than I expected. Gaunt, its grayish skin stretched tight over jutting bones. Its limbs were long, too long, like something had pulled and twisted them just past the edge of human proportions. Its clothes—if you could call them that—were ragged scraps, damp with filth and what I was really hoping wasn't blood.
And its face… Gods. That face. Hollow cheeks, sunken eyes swimming in some kind of manic light. A grin carved into its mouth, lips peeling away from jagged, yellowed teeth. "Well, aren't you a tasty snack," the ghoul whispered, voice wet, bubbling—like something was rotting inside him.
I swallowed hard, training my gun on his chest. "By the authority of Mayor Selene Duskborne and Chief Inspector Rowan Hale of the Vanguard Police Force, I place you under arrest for murder!"
"Murder?" the ghoul squealed like a possessed meat sack with a personal vendetta."No, no, little girl. I saved them."
I swallowed hard. "You didn't save anyone. You butchered four people."
"My friends. They were better off dead," he giggled, rocking back and forth like a child trying to comfort itself. "Better off with me than with them."
"Them?" My pulse kicked up. "Who's 'them'?"
A rustle sounded behind me. I cast a quick scan over my shoulder, scanning the shadows. An accomplice? A trap, perhaps? Or maybe more rats—
The ghoul lunged, claws outstretched.
I threw myself sideways, hitting the ground hard as I fired off a shot. The blast sizzled past its shoulder, barely grazing it. Fantastic. My aim was really winning awards tonight.
If I'd just finished my lethal force certification instead of arguing with my academy instructor about how it violates the democratic principles of proportionality, this ghoul would be on the ground by now. But instead, I'd left home with a stun phaser. Yay, justice.
The ghoul hissed but kept coming, red eyes flashing wild and hungry, like it didn't even feel pain.
I scrambled backward, firing again. "Who are you working for? Are there other bodies?"
The ghoul shrieked with laughter. "They're gone! Gone, gone, gone! No more whispers, no more hands reaching inside!" He clawed at his own face, nails digging into his skin, leaving deep, oozing scratches.
I swore. This ghoul wasn't a lead on Crimson, was he? He was just some rabid defector trying to…to what? Claw his way through the dregs of whatever dead-end deal had left him on the run? Save his criminal buddies from death by a more violent hand?
Then his eyes locked onto me, and his whole body twitched. "But you—ohh, you're still here." I barely had time to react before he was on me.
We hit the ground hard, rolling in a violent mess of limbs, snarls, and me cursing like a sailor. My Aetherion phaser flew from my grip, skidding across the slick floor and into the shadows. I gasped as his claws raked my arm, burning like acid where they touched. Magic. Feral, unfiltered, and ugly.
My munitions belt pressed against my waist—a reminder. I gritted my teeth, yanked my knife free, and slashed—catching him across the stomach. We rolled again, snarling, grappling, the putrid scent of decay oozing from his skin.
I shoved the blade to his throat. "Tell me where the bodies are, or I swear I'll—"
The bastard just grinned wider. "You'll see soon enough."
Then cold magic slammed into me, hurling me backward. My spine hit the concrete pillar with enough force to send stars exploding behind my eyes. "Oh, for fuck's sake."
I was up in an instant, but before I could move, an invisible force yanked me off my feet. My body lifted into the air, an unseen hand wrapping tight around my throat. Spots danced in my vision. My lungs burned.
The ghoul staggered forward, arms twitching like a marionette. "Don't fight it," he cooed, voice warbling, disjointed. "It's worse if you fight."
The ghoul stalked closer, his rancid breath rolling over me in waves. Then came the worst part—the sound. A thick, wet smacking, like he was salivating.
Oh, hell no.
I thrashed, clawing at the unseen force crushing my windpipe. "The democratic constitution of Ebonspire—states that murder of an officer—of the law, accidental or—otherwise, is subject to immediate detainment—and execution, pending tribunal review," I forced out, each word a strained gasp. "Pleas of instability, insanity—or magical overwhelm—do not constitute a viable—excuse."
Not that this ghoul looked like he cared. His grin stretched wide—too wide. Yeah, he was definitely crazy.
His papery fingers clamped around my neck, and suddenly the magic gave way. My full body weight dropped into his grip, his claws pressing into my skin.
Okay.
This was really not what I had planned for my first big case. "Get off me, you slimy—"
Heat flashed through the air. A long blade—chased by thick black flames—cut clean through the ghoul's arm, sending it flopping to the ground like a discarded chicken wing. The creature shrieked and stumbled back, clutching the ragged stump.
I collapsed, coughing, and pushed up onto my elbows. What the hell?
A low, lazy drawl drifted from above me. "Need a hand with that interrogation, sweetheart?"
My gaze traveled up—past an outstretched hand, up tanned, muscled arms, to broad shoulders encased in glistening dark armor. Damp blond hair dripped over a broad brow, framing a face that was entirely too pretty for someone holding a flaming sword.
Human? Or…other? Either way, his eyes were dreamy. Their hazel depths—or were they amber?—swept over me in slow motion, amusement curling at the edges of his full lips.
Well, hello there, hunky hottie—
I smacked his hand away and pushed to my feet, shaking off the ridiculous flutter in my chest. Get your shit together, Lacey.
"This is a closed investigation and active crime scene." I snapped, brushing dirt off my leather suit. "Unauthorized personnel need to clear the—wait, are those dragon scales?" I gaped at the opaline shimmer of his armor, cut tight around his pecs and trailing down to his narrow waist.
His cocky smile inched higher. "A good eye and good taste. Now that's my kind of woman."
Great, now I was the one salivating.
I shut my gaping mouth and stalked over to my phaser, stepping over a stray femur bone and swiping it from the ground. The ghoul was gone, dammit. But the entry door was still closed, so he had to be in her somewhere. "I meant what I said. Get out of here before I have you arrested for the impediment of justice."
The man let out a low chuckle. "Sweetheart, I just saved your ass. Least you could do is say thank you before you throw me out. Being cuffed, on the other hand…" He winked, sending a traitorous thrill through my stomach.
I knelt, trying to hide the embarrassingly obvious flush heating my cheeks as I studied the ghoul's limb. Blood—thick, blue, and rancid—pooled around it. Had he retreated to the melting vat to lick his wounds? Perhaps the bone grinder? "Oh, my mistake. Thank you. Now leave."
The man clicked his tongue, tilting his head as if considering. "Can't. I'm on assignment."
I frowned, looking up at him. His sword still flickered with dark flames at his side, black fire licking hungrily at the air before fizzling out. The whole thing screamed not normal. "Are you from the force? Some kind of private security?"
He grinned. "Nope. I'm after a bounty."
And just like that, the flutter in my chest turned to lead. A fucking mercenary. Of course. No one swung a flaming sword around looking that good unless they were getting paid for it.
"Great. Another thug-for-hire running around Ebonspire like it's the Wild West." I stepped past him to follow what looked like a blood trail down a darkened alley between two moss-covered shelves. Yep—blue blood. I was on the right track.
"That's a little harsh." The man fell into step beside me, annoyingly at ease. "I prefer problem solver."
"Right. Solving problems for the highest bidder," I muttered, picking up my pace. I followed the trail to the end of the row, then left along a concrete wall covered in graffiti. My hand tightened around my phaser. "Who hired you? ArcanaTech? The Rune-Crafters Guild? This is a classified investigation. You shouldn't even know about it."
His lips pressed together, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes—those eyes—grew a little darker, a little more unreadable. So he can be quiet—when it counts.
I threw my hands up, frustration bubbling up as I kicked in the door of an office, checking the room before moving deeper into the warehouse. "You know what? It doesn't matter. You people are part of the reason this city is falling apart."
"You people?" His hand shot out, grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him. My breath caught in my throat. His grip was firm but not threatening—just… there. And damn it felt good.
"You don't even know me, Officer…" He glanced at my badge, brow lifting with a slow, lazy smile. "Lacey? Just like my favorite kind of underwear. Hot."
"Detective," I corrected, feeling heat rush to my cheeks.
He stepped a little closer, his presence swallowing the space between us. "Blackfyre. Kade Blackfyre."
Blackfyre. Like his sword? Gods, was he some kind of self-parody? A walking, talking cliché?
"I don't need to know you, Kade Blackfyre." I jabbed a finger at his chest, refusing to acknowledge just how solid it felt. "I know your type. Moral flexibility, no allegiance, no accountability."
"Sounds about right." He gave a careless shrug, but there was that shadow behind his eyes again—something that made the words come out a little quieter. It passed before I could put my finger on it. Kade leaned in. "You sure you don't want to get to know me? I promise, I'm very—" his voice dipped, low and smooth, "memorable."
Heat curled low in my stomach. Damn him. He knew exactly what he was doing. I forced my expression into something resembling authority. "I'm not interested in—watch out!"
I jerked Kade aside just as a crate of bones crashed down from above us. He hit the ground, and I toppled over him, smacking my face against his infuriatingly hard chest.
"Oww, gods dammit. You better not have broken my nose."
He was already moving, his hand cupping my chin, tilting my face up to inspect it. His touch was careful, almost reverent. I could feel the warmth of his fingers on my skin, the weight of his gaze on my face.
I tried to focus on anything but the heat that crawled up my neck. His lips were inches from mine, and for a moment, I almost forgot where I was. My gaze locked on them—gods, they were perfect. And his eyes—amber, not hazel—were dark like his fire, wild and untamed as they drank me in. Tension stretched between us, pulling, threatening to snap.
Boom.
Another crate crashed down to my left, snapping me back to reality. Kade ducked over me, taking the brunt of the falling debris in his back with a grunt. He dragged me to my feet, his expression hardening as he scanned the shelves above. "He's on the catwalk."
I pushed off Kade, scrambling toward the stairs I'd seen by the entry, dodging dedicated bones and splintering crates—and came face-to-face with a chain-link safety gate blocking the first step. "Dammit," I gritted, pulling at the lock. Chains rattled, metal scraped, but the door stayed put.
I trained my Mk II at the lock, firing once, twice—black flames cut through the air, slicing the lock cleanly in two.
I yelped, glaring at Kade's sword. "You better have a license for that…that thing."
"Oh please, bureaucracy's got not place where this beaut's concerned." He yanked the chain off the door, swinging it wide. "Ladies first?"
I snorted, gripping my phaser and taking the stairs two at a time. "Bureaucracy? There's rules for a reason, Kade. You could set half the damn city on fire with that thing. What's it run on, anyway? Emberite? Bloodquartz?"
"Relax, officer—"
"Detective."
"Relax, detective. I'm great with pointy objects. And besides, a sword like this is too special for some serial code nonsense—wait, what happened to your shoes?"
I glanced down at my carved up boots, groaning. "Look, I appreciate the assist, really, I do. But I've had a long night." Make that a long year trying to prove to Hale I was ready to chase down cases like these. "I'm just trying to get my job done—to bring some damn order to this city and do right by the people of Ebonspire. I don't need some vigilante merc showing up and—"
Kade knocked me aside as a snarl split the air.
The ghoul lunged.
I slammed into the railing with a thud, wind rushing from my lungs. The ghoul's jagged teeth sank into Kade's shoulder, and he let out a vicious growl. His sword flashed, but before he could swing, I fired twice—one blast knocking the ghoul off and the second sending Kade's weapon clattering to the catwalk.
Kade hissed, glaring at me. "What the hell!"
"Don't kill him, asshole. I need answers." I wheezed, pushing off the railing and darting after the ghoul.
Metal gangplanks rattled and swayed beneath me as Kade gave chase. "You think you're going to get answers out of a deranged monster?"
"I have to try—it's standard protocol." Not that he seemed to know a thing about following rules.
Ahead, the ghoul crouched on a swaying catwalk between a rusted melting vat and the massive ceramic silo. I flicked my chin at a crossbeam to our right. Kade caught my meaning and moved, stalking the ghoul from the opposite side. Somewhere outside, thunder rolled.
"Ah, so you're the teacher's pet kind?" he snorted, sword back in his grip, his steps quick and sure.
"What? No, I'm not." My voice came out a little too fast.
The ghoul darted my way—I fired a warning shot, forcing him back. He turned to Kade, only to recoil from a twirling stream of black fire. Merc or not, the man could fight.
"I just want justice," I muttered, "and I want it done by the book."
Kade gave me a sidelong look as we closed in, our steps in sync. "That's what I said—a paper pusher. You know, I normally go for dark, dangerous women, but I gotta say—this whole morality complex you've got going on? Kinda turning me on."
Who the hell was this guy?
I shoved him. "Would you quit hitting on me and help—"
My phaser misfired.
The blast slammed into the two-story ceramic vat beside us.
"Oh, shit."
A spiderweb of cracks splintered across the surface before—
Crack.
The whole thing shattered.
A thick, black plume of dust filled the air. My lungs burned as I staggered back, coughing. A bitter, chalky taste clung to my tongue. "Oh my god, is that—"
"Bone ash," Kade grimaced, waving a hand in front of his face as gray and black flakes settled in his hair.
Movement flickered in the cloud.
"The ghoul!" I rasped.
Kade swung his sword, knocking a stack of barrels loose. They tumbled, rolling fast—smack. The ghoul screeched as they slammed into him, sending him hurtling over the railing.
I ran to the edge, Kade right beside me.
"Well, fuck," I swore.
I jammed my ShadowLink comm unit, darting back toward the stairs. "Isla, send medical. Code six, supernatural suspect down."
My wrist buzzed as her voice crackled in. "Roger that, dispatching now."
I leapt the last three stairs, boots skidding through the settling ash as I ran to where the ghoul lay twisted on the concrete, a jagged bone protruding from his chest. Rancid blue blood seeped into the soot beneath him.
"Gross, gross, gross." I dropped to my knees, pressing down on the wound. The pulse beneath my hands was slow, thick, acidic.
"The criminals—why did you kill them?" I demanded.
The ghoul's ruined chest hitched. A wet, rattling breath sucked through his teeth. "Mercy."
"You're dying," I said. "There's no mercy for you now."
A wet, rattling laugh tore from his throat—weak, broken. "Not for me." His bloodied lips trembled as they curled, desperation flickering in his hollow eyes. "Mercy… to save my friends from them."
My stomach tightened. He wasn't just crazed—he was terrified. Someone had shattered him, warped him into this desperate, broken thing and whatever horrors he'd endured had driven him to kill the very people he once swore to protect.
"Who is them?" I pressed.
The ghoul lifted a long, bony finger. It wavered, pointing over my shoulder. His rattling breath escaped in a whisper.
"Crimson."
I turned sharply, following the line of his papery gray digit—to Kade.
The air between us stretched thin. His sword glinting under the flash of lightning. My fingers tensed around my phaser.
He held my gaze for half a second—long enough for something cold to settle in my gut. Then, without hesitation, he raised his blade.
Steel flashed. Bone crunched.
The ghoul's head rolled off his shoulders, landing in the blackened ash with a wet thud.
"I told you not to kill him!" My voice echoed, raw and disbelieving.
Kade shrugged, flicking his sword. Dark blood sprayed onto the ground. "He was already dead. I just expedited the process."
"You just threw away our only chance to get answers!"
"Answers?" He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of regret in his eyes. "Case closed, detective. Murderer's dead. That's all the truth you need."
I took a step closer, fists clenched. "That thing could've told us—"
He cut me off. "Told you what? Some sob story? You think justice is about tying everything up in a neat little bow?" His voice dropped, sharp as a knife. "Not everyone gets the luxury of hiding behind a badge, Lacey. Some of us don't get to pick the way we survive."
I studied him, my gaze tracing the tension in his shoulders. He didn't want to kill the ghoul—he was ordered to. But why? Burying loose ends, perhaps?
Kade's jaw tightened, like he felt the weight of my judgement. He turned on his heel, stalking toward the exit, boots crunching over shattered ceramic and bone ash, each step sharp, deliberate.
I moved after him, not ready to let this go. "Are you working for the Crimson Syndicate? The ghoul pointed at you and said Crimson."
Kade's stride didn't falter. "Crimson? Never heard of it. Perhaps it's just the ghoul's favorite color?" His voice was flippant, dismissive—too dismissive.
"Liar." Everyone in Ebonspire knew of the Crimson Syndicate—especially these past few months. "I don't know who you are, but I'm starting to think I should find out."
I quickened my pace, reaching for my cuffs—then hesitated. Taking Kade down wouldn't be simple. He was fast—too fast, and had already proven he knew exactly how to put someone like me on the ground. Maybe if I caught him off guard, but if he fought back?
My pulse hammered as we stepped outside, sirens wailing through the night, red and blue flickering against the grime-streaked walls. The cavalry was closing in fast.
I tapped my comm. "Isla—"
A hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me off balance. My back hit cold concrete as Kade swept me into the shadows between two rusted-out cargo containers, his body pressing close, caging me in.
"Careful, detective," he murmured. "You're stepping into something you don't understand."
I swallowed hard, refusing to let him shake me. "I understand plenty. You're connected to Crimson. You're cleaning up their messes."
His jaw tightened. Again, that shadow flickered in his eyes—regret? Guilt? Fear? What does a man like Kade have to fear?
I braced my hands against his chest, ignoring how solid, how warm he felt beneath my palms. "You don't have to run," I said, softer now. "Tell me what you know."
His gaze darkened, a war playing out behind those burning amber eyes. Longing. Conflict.
For a moment, I thought he might actually say something. "Who are you, Kade?" I pressed.
And just like that, his walls slammed back down. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Some questions are better left unanswered, sweetheart." His voice was quiet now, almost... tired. "Trust me when I say this is one of them."
"But—"
A fresh burst of sirens echoed off the buildings, closer now. Kade's grip on me loosened just a fraction, and I seized the moment—shoving forward, breaking free.
But he was already moving.
By the time I spun to chase, he was a blur of dark clothing slipping between the stacked crates. I took off after him, boots pounding against the loading dock, weaving between rusted-out machinery and discarded pallets.
"Kade!" My voice cut through the night.
He didn't stop. He hit a chain-link fence at a run, grabbing the top with one hand and swinging his body up and over in a single, fluid motion.
I reached the fence as he dropped onto the other side, sprinting away. I jumped up, but my grip slipped on the wet metal, sending me stumbling down. I grabbed the metal links again, but he had already vanished into the maze of alleyways beyond, swallowed by the city's shadows.
Gone.
Like a breath of wind, a shift of shadow, nothing left but the lingering warmth of his touch and the electric charge he left in my veins.
I slammed a fist against the fence.
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
"Lacey! Are you there?" My ShadowLink crackled to life, Isla's voice snapping me back. "Hale needs a report. Backup's on site."
I stalked back around the front of the warehouse. "Too late. Perp's dead."
A pause. Then Isla sighed. "Shit."
Yep. That about summed it up.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, flicking raindrops from my fingers before tapping a few buttons on my comm. "Tell the Fae High Council to get their asses down here and clean up this mess."
"Will do." Isla hesitated, then her voice softened. "You okay?"
I swallowed, my throat tight. I should be furious. And I was. But beneath the frustration, there was something else—a nagging, restless energy, a feeling I couldn't shake.
Kade had answers. He knew something. And I wasn't about to let this go.
"I'm fine," I lied, striding toward my hover bike—a cherry-red VoidRunner 650—where it whirred down the alley, responding to my call.
"Uh-huh. Sure," Isla said dryly. "Well, if you're done brooding, we've got a shapeshifter situation developing downtown. How soon can you get here?"
I grabbed my helmet, shoving it over my ponytail. Another crime. Another case. Another night chasing criminals ten steps ahead of me.
But maybe, just maybe, I'd stumbled on something bigger.
"I'm on my way." I swung a leg over my seat, my mind racing. "And Isla?"
"Yeah?"
"I need you to dig up everything you can on a merc."
"You got it. What's the name?"
I tightened my grip on the throttle. "Blackfyre. Kade Blackfyre."