“Oh really? Ancient fae who like that eldritch style too much too or something else?” He tapped out a rhythm on the bar, unintentionally and unavoidably a feel of amusement flowed out with each tap. Not enough to influence anyone, but enough to broadcast how he was feeling.
“Something else entirely. We don’t get too much fae out this way.” Except for her mom’s friend’s family and even then, those kids were rare in coming around. She didn’t blame them, really, she liked New York a lot better than Ruby Hill too. More to do, she supposed.
Her own tricks for evading law enforcement were a little more complex and showy in terms of execution, but he’d see that soon enough, even if her antics n the store hadn’t already given him a taster.
“So long as you’re ready to bolt when we need to, it’s all good.”
“Shock. The only reason I didn’t get shot.”
Not that regular bullets would have done much. Oh they would have hurt like a bitch, sure, but he would have healed. Silver would have dropped him in under ten minutes if they got a good shot and the bullet stayed lodged, but cops didn’t carry silver.
“A couple more of these should make it pretty damn certain.” he nodded, holding up his glass and tipping it a little as he spoke.
“And I drink faster with company.”
“I wouldn’t call myself good company to sober people,” she answered, a sort of bitchy laugh punctuating her words.
It was true enough. People tended not to like her if they weren’t under the influence of anything. She just didn’t have the best people skills overall.
It had been decades since she had died the first time, but she remembered. It wasn’t just the stuff with Teddy that had come back to her over the years. Memories of her first life, of her dads and her brother, had come back in full. There had been other things she had missed from the other lives; Angie’s mom, Harriet’s baby cousins, that sort of thing. Mikayla’s life was the only one she could have easily done without remembering.
But her dads and Hawk had always been the top of the list.
Layla had known that there was a chance that her brother and one of her dads were still alive, but it wasn’t until she actually saw Hawk did that flicker of hope turn into a wild fire that consumed her.
It didn’t even occur to her to look before darting across the street, narrowly avoiding getting hit as she tried to catch up to him. It didn’t even matter to her in that moment that she wasn’t actually Aislynn anymore, despite that being her middle name this time.
She didn’t hesitate to grab his arm, blue eyes hopeful but verging on tears.
It was hard to keep track of days when she stayed shifted, so Frey hadn’t noticed the passing of the full moon until the early morning after when she was woken by that familiar, uncomfortable feeling.
It hadn’t started yet, but she didn’t have much time before it did, her breathing already laboured as she got up and hopped down off the bed, only just making it to the floor before her shoulder dislocated itself, causing her to whine in pain.
Dyson was barely aware enough to feel her get down from the bed, but the pained sound that came from her was more than enough to wake him. He sat up quickly, looking a touch confused as he glanced around while scooting to the edge of the bed.
It wasn’t until he actually saw her shoulder did he realize what was happening and he wasn’t sure if touching her was okay or not. Either way, he wasn’t about to leave her.
“I’m here.. It’s okay, promise,” he soothed, clearly upset at seeing her in pain but trying to reassure her anyway.
ofviolentdeath 