Aidan has been warned about the dangers of being with a human. His people live on the edges of society, in the shadows and alleys. And one day, if he's willing to submit to the birthright ceremony, he'll lead the next generation to continued wealth...
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We've done this before. Well, not this exactly, but something like it. A few times.
At first, Emmerson's expression is curious when she comes out of the door of the gas station and sees me handcuffed to the mainline gas pipe. But her honey brown eyes quickly morph into the same glassy stare a bunny has when it senses a predator. Not all of us inspire that instinct in humans, but I do. Every time. The curse of my genetics. A long dead fight or flight impulse flickers to life in humans when I choose to reveal myself.
But with her, I really wish it didn't.
Ever since my cousins caught on to how hot my blood runs whenever Emmerson is near, they think it's funny to throw me in her path. To them, the joke never gets old. For me, it's wearing thin. She has no recollection of these encounters, and, with everyone but her, I relish in that power. Who wouldn't? Manipulate people and situations to my own tastes or be invisible. Able to blend into the background of a human's life.
Those skills are the reason my people have been able to live in this town for multiple generations. There are no limits to what my family can do. Protectors. Terrors. Observers. Every generation has had its share of each, but I'm still trying to figure out where I fit. A dab of each quality resides in me, each warring for dominance. Though I'm fully aware of what my parents want and expect. Shame they won't get it anytime soon.
"Here's what's going to happen," I say to Emmerson, and I give a gentle tug on the handcuff that's attached to the central gas line. A test. Definitely can't get free without breaking the metal. My other hand is loose at my side. They weren't strong enough to get them both. "I'm going to rip this pipe off. My friends will appear, seemingly out of nowhere, and throw a match at me. Flames will engulf me, but I. Will. Not. Die."
"You'll die." Her eyes widen, and her ash blonde hair that's pulled into a ponytail, sways in the breeze. She's lit by the lone overhead light of the gas station. She smells like coconut and chocolate, and I suspect she was eating a macaroon before she heard the commotion and came out here. Her shift is almost over, and I really wish my asshole cousins had left me alone.
I tried to stop Rig and Donovan from attaching the handcuff, but my powers seem to be weakening lately. Fuckers take advantage of my stubbornness. And my obsession with the woman in front of me.
"I won't die, and it's critical you remember that." Not likely, and I hate that my cousins enjoy this trauma porn. Hardly fair. Part of me wonders whether humans, despite what I've been told, retain the remnants of these episodes somewhere deep inside their psyche. No evidence of any lingering memory, and my parents have assured me these games are harmless. But when I see the blind panic on her face, there's a vice around my chest. In this moment, none of this makes sense to her, and it physically pains me to be the source of her confusion.
For the briefest moment, I consider sitting down and waiting Donovan and Rig out. If I don't play the game, the game gets boring. But if I wait too long one of my sisters might find me, and that'll start a lecture about how I could have easily defeated Donovan and Rig if I'd just accept my destiny.
