Page 7 of Fake Dating a Human 101

Shayne rolled the dagger over his fingers, waiting for the first of his brothers and former friends to make their move. A horrid, bitter laugh filled his stinging throat as he realized his one foolish mistake would make this the day he died after all, perhaps even the hour. But a sound lifted through the space; a low creaking of hinges being turned, and the dagger stilled on Shayne’s fingers. A footstep sounded behind him. Then another.

Shayne dragged his wildly round eyes over to see the dreamslipper there. Standing beside him. Out of her cage. She looked unexpectedly frightening when she wasn’t behind bars or herded on chains. When there was nothing standing between her and the person she was glaring at—which in this case, was Kahn-Der.

The heel of Kahn-Der’s boot slid back an inch. His ever-present crooked smile remained, but the corners of his mouth wavered. The fairies at his back all reached for the hidden weapons Jethwire had lied about. It was a wonder what everyone was so afraid of while being wide awake, but maybe it was the slightly startling brightness of Mycra Sentorious’s eyes. And that was amusing, so, even though it could cost him his life, Shayne decided to conduct an experiment.

He tossed her the dagger.

Kahn-Der tried to grab the weapon as it sailed, but he missed, and the handle fell right into Mycra’s grip.

“Get that!” Kahn-Der commanded his allies. Massie reached for the dagger only to find his arm being sliced three times over, faster than anyone could blink.

Shayne’s jaw dropped. He slapped a hand over his mouth when four fairies surrounded Mycra and she fell to a knee in a spin, stabbing exactly eight kneecaps. Four fae fell to the ground, and Shayne wondered if he was dreaming. If this dreamslipper was messing with his slumber and he might snap awake at any moment. But he knew it was real when Jethwire and Massie sprang forward and grabbed his arms. Still, he laughed. Because even if he died today, tossing Mycra that dagger was…

Absolutely.Worth. It.

A fairy pinned Mycra to the ground while two others wrestled the dagger from her grip. Shayne punched Jethwire and kicked Massie in his ribs to free himself, then he wobbled across the space and took hold of the fairy’s head who pinned Mycra to the floor. With a quick twist and snap, the fairy seemed to have trouble still being alive. Shayne tossed the body to the floor and kicked the next fairy right in the teeth, sending him sprawling backward and giving Mycra a chance to jump to her feet. Shayne shoved her toward the basement door.

“Don’t waste my death, pretty Fairy,” he said as all the injured fae climbed to their feet, and those who hadn’t struck yet began surrounding Shayne and giving each other hand signals they thought Shayne couldn’t see. Mycra looked like she might protest, but she met Shayne’s eyes. With his gaze, he told her how dissatisfied he would be if she died beside him today. And she seemed to understand that his death would mean nothing if she became a corpse after this.

Something heavy struck Shayne’s head. His arms were grabbed, the backs of his knees were kicked. Vertigo spilled in, but even so, he growled at the fae and raged like a mad crossbeast, ripping himself from their grip only to have more hands latch on again. Mycra sprang back during his show, shooting him one last look of panic. Then she raced for the door, grabbing a spear handle from the wall display on her way out.

Shayne found a small, weak smile watching her escape. It wasn’t even that he cared that much—she was still a stranger—but she must have had something to live for, or she wouldn’t have run. He inhaled a mouthful of stale dungeon air as he was lifted to his feet, thinking all the while of how the beautiful, caged beast was free at last. The flower had a chance to grow new petals. The butterfly might fly again—

A rock collided with Shayne’s temple, and he toppled over. From there, he was kicked until purple blood ran from his mouth, from his ears, from his nose. His cheek scraped the cold stone floor as his body became the stomping ground for a dozen sets of boots. Most fairies would have cried or begged for mercy in his position, but Shayne laughed. He laughed and laughed as his bones were broken and his flesh was torn. He laughed because he came to this House to end his nightmares, and as it turned out, he’d found a way to end them after all.

Truly, dying would solve a lot of problems.

At least, that was his thought until Kahn-Der grabbed his shoulders and ripped him to his feet. The fairy had a gloating sneer as he tossed Shayne back into the hoard. “Walk him upstairs,” Kahn-Der instructed, and Shayne blinked through swelling eyelids.

“What happened to the whole ‘killing me’ thing?” he asked with a voice too dry for much sound.

Kahn-Der chuckled, his icy eyes grazing over Shayne’s cuts and blood. He lifted a hand to smooth his white hair back into place, and he licked his lips. “We have you for ten whole days, Brother,” he said. Past him, Jethwire’s and Massie’s blue eyes grew wild, their grins twisting, and Shayne swallowed against his tender throat.

Torment, then. His household’s specialty.

Jethwire nodded toward the basement door and the hands on Shayne’s body roughly escorted him to the stairs. They made him walk on his own two wobbling legs back to the main floor of the House, through the maze of halls, and into the dining room where he’d issued his first threat to Kahn-Der. Shayne fought a wave of nausea. He hoped he would at least barf on someone tonight.

His dining seat was lifted, carried onto the tabletop, and placed in the exact centre of the table. Shayne was hoisted up and shoved into it. Fairies grabbed his hands, and his forearms were tied to the armrests with vines. He watched it all past puffy eyelids. He didn’t fight them. He didn’t resist. There was no point.

He did, however, crack a small smile in the midst of it all when Kahn-Der said, “You will beg me for death in the end. And I shall grant your wish by flicking you off the roof of the pagoda and watching you fall a very long way to your death, just like in your nightmares.”

The small smile wasn’t enough. Shayne loudly chuckled. “Coward,” he said.

He couldn’t deny it—he was flattered. Flattered that Kahn-Der was too afraid of his Brotherhood of Assassins experience to want to take him on alone. That Kahn-Der would only face Shayne once he was in a weak state of battered body and mind. That Shayne was flat out amazing, and Kahn-Der was basic.

As the cold iron clubs swung, Shayne’s last thoughts weren’t of the dreamslipper who’d gotten a second chance, or of revenge on his family, or even of his failed escape.

They were of a simple café he loved, owned by a blonde human who could deliciously lie through her teeth, and a moody, one-armed fairy he hadn’t even said goodbye to.

3

Dranian Evelry and the Homecoming

Everything in the Ever Corners was bad. Not fit for humans. The forests were dark, the paths were hard on the feet, the pines were prickly, the food was sour, the stories in the wind were grumbling about the latest rise in North Corner taxes—

Dranian looked up when Lily sighed. He found the human standing with her hands on her hips, waiting for him on the path ahead. The golden sun was just beginning to dip toward the hoarfrost-covered mountains in the distance, and soon ice would prism the light into all sorts of wretched corners, threatening to expose anyone hiding in the shadows or walking out on a wide-open path like Lily had insisted they do—

“I’ve cross examined guilty criminals less nervous than you,” she said.

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