Page 6 of Fake Dating a Human 101

The basement was far too dark for someone to live in, but it was where the Lyro family kept their prisoner, nonetheless. Not even a torch or a fireplace was lit. Shayne was sure he’d walk into something face-first and break his beautiful nose if he wasn’t careful. He kept a hand along the wall, brushing over cool stones as he stumbled deeper into the space. He remembered running through these chilly tunnels in bare feet in his childling years; stealing tiny, rare items from the shelves, running his fingers along the weapons on the walls, pretending to fight shadows with a blade like they were real fairies.

Little did he know he’d turn out to be an assassin. That he would get quite good at fighting his enemies for real. That at full strength, he’d become nearly unstoppable.

He should have known his brothers would target his strength first.

Shayne hadn’t exactly been given a warm welcome when he’d waltzed in the front entrance and announced himself months ago. Only his father had accepted him back in with open arms, which was odd considering Hans-Der was the one who’d sent Shayne away in the first place. It was his brothers and all the old House allies that had treated Shayne like he’d walked over from the House of Riothin or some other hated rival. Since that day, the threat of Shayne’s existence had hung in every room he’d walked into like a loud, shiny, eye-catching chandelier. He’d become the focal point of several noble households’ gossip. He was pretty sure the House of Calamity was already trying to marry him off to one of their blue-haired females.

A tiny light flickered on, illuminating an orb of space in the basement. Shayne glanced over to find a dreamslipper, with a particularly pointed look, holding a lantern. He smiled and went to meet Mycra at the bars of her cage.

“You almost walked right past me,” she said. The lantern light made her bright eyes dance as she looked him over, taking in his state. “Tell me what you’re doing down here,” she demanded like she ruled the whole wide world, and Shayne sighed. “You’re not well,” she added with realization. “Don’t tell me they poisoned you with a numbing weed or something.”

“Fine,” Shayne slurred. “I won’t tell you.”

Mycra’s fingers tightened around her light. “Make a bargain for your life before they take it.”

Shayne shook a finger at her. “Never make a bargain with a fairy,” he said, using the same finger to flick a gold bar between them. “That’s my motto.”

Mycra blinked like she didn’t know what a‘motto’was, and Shayne waved a hand through the air. “Never mind. It’s a human thing,” he said. “But forget bargains. I’m here to set you free.”

Her face changed. “Why?”

Shayne shrugged. “Well, if they kill me tonight, they’ll probably kill you next. I think it’s obvious my blood brothers have caught on to our alliance.” Her features went blurry, and he squinted, sure she was disappearing. That his surroundings were all melting. He tried to shake the dizziness from his head.

Mycra grunted in her high voice. “I’d love to see them try. I’ll tear them to shreds from the inside out—mind first.”

Shayne snorted a laugh. It was his favourite when she used her deadly words. “Tsk, tsk. Naughty siren. It’s not even my birthday and you’re offering up presents.” He drew a short dagger from his pocket. “And you know full well you can only destroy one fairy at a time. If you target someone from my household, the rest of the House will come after you in the morning.”

Mycra’s face fell. She put a hand over the bloodlock on the door and said, “Wait.”

Shayne paused with the dagger against his palm.

“You’re not going to run away with me?” Her throat bobbed. “I thought we’d go find your friend together.”

Shayne’s smile widened. “Are you talking aboutmyDranian?” He laughed, and the sound echoed through the basement. “You and I might be allies today, but we have a long way to go before I’ll trust a powerful dreamslipper to be near my forever friend.”

Mycra’s mouth pinched. It was hilarious, and Shayne almost barked another laugh.

“I could just wait until you sleep and steal the information of his whereabouts from you,” she pointed out with extra-thin words. “The only reason I haven’t already is because I thought we were on the same team.”

Shayne dropped the dagger back to his side. Naturally, Mycra’s eyes followed it, and a teensy flicker of regret crossed her face.

“You might as well join my blood brothers in trying to kill me if you want that information,” Shayne stated. “Now, quit begging for things you can’t have and get ready to run. The alarm will sing through the House when I break this lock.”

Mycra’s bright eyes widened. “Wait—”

Shayne slashed his palm and grabbed the bloodlock, but he ripped his hand back when low, dark laughter flitted through the basement. It was too late though—the wailing alarm vibrated through every staircase, room, and hall. Shayne whirled. His oldest brother was hidden by the darkness, but the scent of ripe plums and expensive linens floated through the space. He sniffed.

Manyexpensive linens.

Kahn-Der was the first to step into the lantern light. The glow illuminated the metallic-scaled lamellar armour and the long, thin fairsaber strapped to his hip. Shayne swallowed as more fairies emerged from the darkness. Jethwire and Massie wore cruel grins and the rich, red hanboks of Lyro. Behind them, others drew forward just enough for Shayne to know they were there—fairy faces of males Shayne once knew, fairies he once ran through the cherry blossom orchards alongside.

They all teetered along with the room. Shayne’s vision, limbs, and senses betrayed him as he forgot every trick of his assassin training.

Kahn-Der smiled. Shayne wanted to tell him his smile was ugly, but his throat felt full of pins and needles. So, he balled his hand into a fist around his dagger instead. Not that he could swing it properly. He relaxed and folded his arms, huffing a laugh and looking at the floor. He cleared his throat, but his words still came out gravelly. “You must be a coward after all, Kahn-Der, if you brought all these fairies to kill me,” he said. “How embarrassing for you.”

“We didn’t bring weapons,” Jethwire promised, and Shayne glanced down at Kahn-Der’s long sword with a doubtful face. “We just want to talk.” Jethwire’s twisted smile was a different sort of unsettling; a little too wide to be natural.

“Take him,” Kahn-Der directed in a dark voice barely decipherable against the loud ringing alarm.

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