Constabulary

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The long black coat flapped by his legs as Philo ran up the steps to the Constabulary. He had tied his hair back as soon as he crossed the bridge for the same reason why he threw a coat over his wings - Leggers treated him differently when they thought he was one of them.

At the Carnival Row, he did the opposite: he let his wings out, embracing his Fae features, and set the hair under his hat loose to cover his too-human ears. Most Row residents didn't care that he was Half-Blood, but Faerishyn gave him a look of pity he'd rather avoid.

But on this side of the city, he wouldn't be seen as a Half-Blood. Here, he was just one of the Critch, a subclass of beings unworthy of time or attention of the police. Though it hurt his pride, he needed to be heard today. He had to pretend to be a Legger.

"Good Morning. I'm looking for Darius Sykes," he told the bored clerk who awarded him a fleeting glance.

Philo drummed his fingers on the wooden counter as the clerk did nothing but continued chewing his sandwich. If this was how they treated someone who looked like a working-class human, how would they have handled a Critch?

He adjusted his coat which constricted his wings but it didn't take the discomfort away.

"Check this out, Hank," one of the Constables addressed the clerk who walked away, without acknowledging Philo.

They moved to the side of the large room where some rowdy commotion was taking place, and Philo craned his neck to scan the crowd.

"Darius!" he called out, seeing a familiar face.

His friend smiled in recognition but then cast worried glances at his colleagues and silently led Philo to a dark corner.

"Afraid to be seen with me?" Philo snapped. "I covered my wings, no need to freak out."

Darius raised his hands defensively and stuttered, " That's... That's not..."

"Save it. I don't care." Philo straightened the lapels of his coat. "It's not about me. There was another attack and yet I don't see any of yours sniffing around the Row."

"There are no leads yet on the Unseelie Jack case."

"They're not even investigating!" Philo threw his hands up. "A fourteen-year-old girl was beaten to a pulp and what are they doing? Nothing! They took down her father's statement and left. No one showed up to speak with the witnesses or to inspect the crime scene."

Darius shook his head and put his hands on his hips. "I tried to urge them, and they keep pushing it off, saying other cases are more urgent."

"If she was a Legger, they'd be swarming the Row, but for a Puck, they can't get off their fat saddles."

"Calm down, Philo." Darius put a hand on his shoulder and cast glances in both directions.

"Let them hear it," Philo spat. "Maybe I should make a complaint. If they think a Legger cares..."

"Don't risk it." Darius shook his head and squeezed his shoulder. "If they catch you trying to pass for human, not only they would arrest you but abandon the case altogether just to spite you."

Philo shrugged him off. "If we do nothing, Fae blood will continue running down our streets. You're the police. Do your jobs!"

Darius dropped his eyes and it reminded Philo that it wasn't his fault that the law did not care for Fae lives. He was a good man. One who was wasting his talents by pushing papers.

"Why haven't you applied for an Inspector job? The Row could use a copper on our side."

"You know why." Darius rubbed his temples. "No one pays attention to a clerk. My secret is safer this way."

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