Page 19 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

Dranian pulled a small ball out of his pocket. The hairy beast went wild, barking and making Luc jump. The animal began breathing evenlouder—a thing Luc didn’t know was possible.

“Here, Shayne,” Dranian soothed, patting the top of the dog’s head.

“You named himShayne?” Luc scoffed, recalling Dranian’s apparent forever-friend having the same name. “That is utterly pathetic—”

“Fetch!” Dranian hurled the ball toward Luc, and Luc screamed.

The dog channelled across the living room as Luc dove over the back of the couch, landing on the cushions with a bounce. Sounds of the dog’s tiny hooves over the floor filled Luc’s ears. It was a sound worse than a thousand charging reindeer in war.

He peeked over the back of the couch in time to see the dog racing back to Dranian with the ball.

“Good boy,” Dranian praised in his low, ever-monotone voice as he scratched the animal behind the ears.

A fresh rage swept through Luc’s heart. At the dog, at the North Fairy, but mostly, at himself for allowing this to happen in the first place. But he would not hold back any longer. He would not sit by idly for the sake of warm water and a soft bed.

He rose from the couch slowly, a dark power rumbling through his bones and making the dog whine and hide behind his owner. A dog he couldn’t even kill.

“I assure you, North Fairy,” Luc began, his sharp eyes narrowing on the pair of mutts, “you’ve begun a war.”

The day turned cold. Winter air threatened to arrive in an untimely manner. Luc shivered as he marched toward the ice cream shop downtown. He knew they wouldn’t be open to receive him, but he wanted to check anyway. He craved pink strawberry flavour and the cool, whipped taste.

And he would have given his left arm to avoid going back to the apartment for a little longer.

But as he took step after step, killing time with his own two feet and refusing the call of the wind, he found himself in another place entirely.

He sighed to himself as he looked up at the tall building before him. “Oh dear. Why, Zelsor, why?”

The bell tower was in the same rough shape as the last time he’d seen it two months ago. All the ground-level windows Luc had smashed during his first visits had been boarded over. Nothing about the cathedral looked pleasant or inviting. He could ask himself all day why he had come. Why he wouldevercome back here.

But heknew the answer.

Because while his pride was his most precious possession, he didn’t have anyone else.

“Trisencor,” he greeted coldly. The disgraced Shadow Fairy had arrived nearly silently behind him.

Luc was grabbed.

In the blink of an eye, he found himself channeling upward. He didn’t try to fight it.

He was dropped on the rooftop of a tall office building in a heap, the air around him turning solid, the cool breeze returning, the sounds of the city finding him once again.

Luc sighed through a pitiful laugh and rolled onto his back, looking up at a foe with skin a little darker than his, hair a little curlier than his, and an expression far more deadly.

“You must have been expecting me,” Luc said. He slipped into the air just enough to stand. He appeared before Mor with his arms folded.

Mor’s dark, luminous eyes were cutting.

It was to be expected. Luc had tried to kill him.

A few times.

Mor’s arms were folded too, showcasing his life story in tattoos. He smelled of coffee, fresh paper, and wet ink. It seemed his little printing business with the humans was going well.

Luc cleared his throat. “Since we’re bound to cross paths now—considering the circumstances—I figured I would speed up the process—”

“What are you talking about?” Mor’s voice carried the samelow, guarded tone it always had.

Luc stopped speaking for just a moment. He studied the tale in Mor’s expression, in his stance.

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