Page 54 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

The Shadow bowman loaded a fresh arrow, aiming it for Mor’s heart. Mor took in a breath and held it, relieved the Shadows weren’t aiming for Dranian anymore. They’d be fools to target Dranian with a black-marked Shadow Fairy present.

Prince Reval raised his fairsabers, eyeing Luc as he plotted his first blow. “Obviously, you can’t save yourselfandthem—” Reval’s words lurched to a halt when the bowman released the arrow, and Luc…

Luc twisted around in front of Mor just in time to take it.

The metal arrow broke through the fox’s back and came out his chest, stopping an inch from Mor’s heart. Luc’s face warped, his jaw setting, his lashes fluttering. “Are you ready, Trisencor?” he bit out.

Mor didn’t know how to reply. He looked over at the bloodlock on Dranian’s wrists. On his own wrists. Up at Luc again.

Luc spun, slashing with his left fairsaber and nearly catching Reval at the throat. The Prince tipped back to avoid the swing, and came up with one of his own. Luc’s hand flashed out and grabbed the blade midair. Purple blood oozed between his fingers and sprinkled the grass—Reval’s eyes widened.

Luc swung at Reval, forcing him back another step. The bowman quickly loaded another arrow as Luc dropped his grip on Reval’s blade. The foxes exchanged a series of swings and misses too fast for most fairy eyes to behold. Luc marched after his father and raised his saber, but he didn’t stab at Prince Reval—his blade went through the bowman.

The bowman gasped as Luc tore his blade back out, sending the quiver to the ground and a dozen cold iron arrows rolling through the grass.

“Take his place!” Reval barked at the Shadows. Two new war fae lifted bows and stepped into line, drawing arrows and taking aim.

Luc vanished. Shadow Fairies turned in all directions to give chase, looking up at the sky. But he reappeared facing Mor and Dranian as the bowmen released their arrows.

Arrows speared into him—one into his lower back, one through his shoulder. Luc buckled forward, barely catching himself on a knee. He slapped his hands together, smearing around his purple fairy blood. Mor blinked as the fox smacked his hands down on Mor’s and Dranian’s bloodlocks.

Luc cast Mor one last glare and rasped, “No need to thank me. We’re enemies to the end, right?”

Mor wasn’t sure if Luc was speaking to him or Dranian.

It didn’t matter. The second the locks fell, Mor took the opportunity and grabbed Dranian, ripping him into the air. Dranian dripped blood, colours, and sweat into the gale. In the rush, Mor was vaguely aware of Luc below, shifting into the wind and grappling the ankles of any fairy who tried to follow them. Through the air threads, Mor escaped to the sight of Luc taking hit after hit. After hit.

After hit.

Three arrows impaled his body.

22

Dranian Evelry and the Thing that Happened After

The insides of his eyelids were pink. Dranian peeled his eyes open, wondering for just a second why he’d been able to sleep in peace. He brought a hand to his forehead, realizing his head was thudding like a mountain village war drum. He winced and sat up, finding himself in pink bed sheets. He lifted a handful of the bedding to his face to study it. He knew these sheets.

This was Kate’s bed, above Fae Café.

He lowered the sheets, his mind taking him back to his dream—the quiet one. The dream that wasn’t really a dream at all, just an absence of anything.

Where had the girl gone? The dreamslipper? The girl with no name?

Why hadn’t she shown up this time?

Dranian pulled the covers back and headed out of Kate’s bedroom into the kitchenette. He slowed to a stop when he saw Mor was there. His faeborn heart tumbled when he realized Cress was there, too. And Lily. And Kate.

There was a tense silence in the room. Then Kate cleared her throat. “Are you okay—”

“Un-real, Dranian!” Lily said, and Kate scowled at her for interrupting.

Dranian opened his mouth to ask, but he closed it again, trying to determine what exactly he was in trouble for. He finally thought to ask Lily, “Did you tell them—?”

“I think the cat’s out of the bag.” Lily’s folded arms tightened like it was taking all her human self-control not to reveal other things, too.

“What cat?” Cress asked. He began looking around. “I don’t see a cat.”

Mor closed his eyes in disbelief, and Dranian took the opportunity Cress provided by constantly misunderstanding human word expressions to come up with something proper to say. “It’s not what it looks—”

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