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Everyone looking way cooler than I probably ever could.

I tapped my phone against the turnstile and walked through after a pleasant-sounding ding, going down a white-stoned and well-lit tunnel lined with advertisements for new movies and plays and books, following the signs that pointed to the northern-bound Rodeo Line.

I kept looking over my shoulder, to the left of me, to the right. Couldn’t help it. The feeling of being followed was pervasive and maybe walking into an underground passage with limited exits wasn’t exactly the best idea…

Was that beady-eyed man leering out from under a dirty hoody looking at me or the map behind me? Was that fae standing a little too close to me? Her pink, jewel-like eyes seemed to be flicking my way. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was silently feeding off my nervous energy, or could her intentions be even more sinister? Vamps could only turn us non-magic-wielding humans—all supernatural beings had some kind of immunity to their venom—but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get a fae or shifter to work for them.

Shit. I just wanted to get home. A bone-searing exhaustion began to take hold. I went over to the smooth bench and sat down across from a moving advertisement for some random shampoo brand. The ceiling in the snake-way had been enchanted to reflect the sky above, giving the illusion that we were out in open air and not crammed together in a tunnel under the ground.

I chewed on my nails as I waited for my ride. The platform filled up, the blinking sign near the tracks announcing that the basilisk would arrive within three minutes.

Good. Then another ten minutes, and I’d be home. I could shower, lock my door, fall into bed, and binge TV until I fell asleep. Then it would all be behind me, and I could focus on the future: like kicking ass at my new job.

That thought helped me breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, I had to be attacked by vampires and saved by dragons to get it, but who was I to look a gift-centaur in the mouth?

“Excuse me, this seat taken?”

I looked up and immediately tensed. Vampires weren’t the easiest to pick out of a crowd if you didn’t know what to look for: the slightly protruding lips hiding inches’ worth of fangs, the penetrating stare, the agile movements, the airbrushed skin that wasn’t attainable regardless of how many make-up tutorial videos you watch.

That predatory red-lipped smirk, advertising a permanent hunger.

Everything about this woman shouted at me: DANGER, DANGER.

“No, it’s all yours.”

I stood up and gave her the entire bench, shouldering my way up to the front of the platform and putting enough people as I could behind me and the bloodsucker.

Maybe I should have gone with Damien… fuck.

A gentle breeze whipped up into a sudden whoosh of wind as the sound of scales sliding against stone grew louder and louder. The head of the basilisk appeared first, its globe-sized yellow eyes aimed straight ahead as it filled up the platform with its massive body. A robed Marvel sat on a seat just behind the basilisk’s head—the beast’s bonded trainer and handler. Strapped to the giant snake’s back were seven seats with about thirty rows stretching down its length, the colors of the chairs identifying this basilisk as the Blue Line, the one I needed to get home.

It came to a smooth stop at the station and sunk down, allowing the riders already on it to step off. I looked around and spotted a nearly empty row of seats. I stepped up and onto the snake’s back, its spine and evergreen scales as solid as concrete. These basilisk were all well fed and cared for, trained to make sure no one was accidentally eaten or turned to stone on their early morning commute. Not everyone trusted the snake-way, and many preferred to just drive or take the bus, but I didn’t mind it that much. Especially not when all I wanted to do was get the hell home.

I sat in the plush blue-and-white seat, strapping on the seat belt. The aisle filled up with other riders, none of them seeming to want to sink their teeth into my neck. Above me, the paneled sky glittered with stars, a couple of stray wisps of clouds inching their way across. It was a nice touch. Kept the claustrophobia from hitting too hard.

And trust me, I had plenty of phobias now. Fear of shadows, fear of quick movements and long glares, fear of perfectly friendly-looking strangers.

It made sense, considering I grew up being a jumpy kid with the courage amounting to that of a cowardly dog. I would run from spiders and fox moths as if their quick little legs or furry orange wings were poisonous to the touch (they weren’t). Other things I ran from?