Emilia Vos & The Swipers' Tale

Part I: The Audible Clause

Blonde curls blew across Emilia Vos's face causing a small scowl to grow on her purple lips. The moderators told her to look nice for the target, and now her efforts were being ruined. Not that she cared. Emilia would rather be at home in leggings and a baggy sweatshirt, throwing popcorn into her mouth while swiping on the mythical and human men on Bifrost. Her purple lips turned slightly upward, thinking of the app's slogan, Bifrost, where all creatures can unite on the bridge of love.

She wouldn't cross that bridge for any of her recent matches. Then, there were the ones who seemed a bit questionable. Those became screenshots and saved for further investigation. Well, if she ever decided to investigate. All creatures were allowed to roam free here. So, who cares if a werewolf or vampire had a dating profile trying to find love? It isn't like they would be so foolish to use it as a meal delivery service.

The blonde curl flew into her face again. Emilia let out a low curse. She stopped to look at herself in a shopping window on Oxford Street. Bright street lamps illuminated the sidewalk. She did not look like a complete mess in her plum double-breasted coat. Well, yet anyway. The beaded edges of her black dress barely visible along the coat's hem.

London still had people out but not enough to jostle someone standing on the sidewalk. Couples with heads drawn together could easily sidestep her as she took this moment for herself. Emilia took the offending curl and played with placing it in a few places. There was still enough time to get to the meeting spot by midnight. Her black stockings and booties completed the outfit.

Emilia smiled to herself. The stockings did look nice but provided more of a protective function than anything else. Strong threads united to stop any offending teeth from getting through to her flesh. Emilia knew better than to trust all the creatures of the night. Her mother always said it is better to dress prepared than to be dead.

Her hazel eyes flittered up to see a man in his mid-thirties stop a pace or so behind her.

"You look good to me," he smirked, adjusting his tie.

His friend stood awkwardly beside him while looking at the time on his watch. Behind them, a centaur passed by with a lady riding his back and hugging his neck. She mused about a time would this was not normal in the United Kingdom. The United States seemed almost authoritarian over creatures compared to the UK's regulations.

Emilia flashed him a smile while adjusting her hair.

"Thank you," she responded evenly, her American accent showing on the vowels.

He smiled on unsteady legs. "American," he almost leered. "I'm Caleb." He took a step forward as his friend rolled his eyes.

The blonde took a bobby-pin to move the offending curl into the exact spot she envisioned before starting to walk again. Emilia did not have time for this.

"Hey-hey!" The man yelled from behind her. She could hear the slight slur that came with a few hours at the pub after work.

"Caleb!" Another man yelled. "Get a fuckin' move-on! We don't want to miss the train!"

"But—"

"Don't miss your train, Caleb," Emilia called over her shoulder with a small wave.

The two men disappeared into the crowd, moving towards Bond Street.

Emilia pulled her coat tighter around her body to ward off another bout of wind. London had a way of sending a chill to cut through to the bones, but it was her city now. By choice or not, it had become her city, and it was her responsibility.

"Emilia, this is your home. You can protect it," she whispered to herself. "And, you have cover for this. You won't be doing this one alone. No one will find out you're here. You just need to fulfill the contract."