Page 39 of Fake Fae-Ancée

Flashlight feels its way through empty alley. Nothing. Nothing. Garbage. Cat. Nothing special.

Shadow.

Gigantic shadow.

Empty white eyes glowing. Wings. Stormwind whips around my ears. Almost knocking me over.

"P.A.S.H. Metropolitan Police! Identify yourself!"

My voice breaks. The shifter attacks.

A croaking call tears through the darkness. Black wings erupt.

Draw sword.

Ravenshifter propels forward. Massive wing coming down.

Sword up. Deflect.

My sword vibrates from the impact. Hammer blows race through my arm.

A sharp pain as something hits me. A feeling like a small truck colliding with me head-on. A bang. Pain cuts through my ears. Hellish ringing. Infernal beeping.

A blade. Witch-iron. Illegal. And something else. My strength fades. Like someone pulling the plug on my soul. I fall. The sword hits ground with clang. Concrete slabs so cold against my face.

Gigantic claw presses me to ground like bug.

Cannot move. Powers frozen.

Want to scream. Cannot.

"I'm gonna cut you open, little Fae..."

I bounced back with a yelp, wrenching my hand free. Panting, I stared at the Witch. She just blinked back at me, a sugary smile on her ageless face.

"What the hell was that!?"

"I put your memory back in its place. My spell from last night messed up some things in there." She pointed to my forehead.

I swallowed. "Your spell?"

"A spell to protect your Anima from further attacks." The Witch tilted her head. "You know, your life force. The source of your power."

"You put a spell on me?"

"I'd be happy to refresh your memory further." The Witch reached out but I withdrew my hand.

"No, no, no. Thank you very much. Stay away with your brain voodoo." I shifted away from her. "A regular explanation using words will do."

Regardless, the remnants of the missing pieces from last night flickered alive in my memory like broken neon lights. Slicing pain screaming down my spine. Yuri shifting into bear shape. Sharp, dark growls like lions wrestling, dark feathers, croaking cries. Darkness. Then, Yuri scooping me up in his arms, looking like Death himself. More blurred images. Car seat. A motor starting and Yuri cursing in the distance. A door with red, glowing letters above it. Me being laid face down on a table. Someone fiddling with my back.

I squinted.

The Witch measured me with a long glance. "Since you wouldn't believe the prince’s word alone, I figured this would do the trick."

"He didn't explain anything," I muttered, averting my eyes.

"He told you that the assassin wants you dead, no?"

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