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CASUAL LITTLE MURDERS

Rachel

I try to swallow the ball of dread clogging my throat, and plaster a smile on my face as I unlock the front door. I've been uneasy for days. It's not like Rina to fail to give news for this long. And when I asked Mom and Dad, they seemed...wrong. Just like they are when Rina shoots them her best smile, with all those white teeth, a little too sharp in the wrong light. Honestly, I've always found that smile uncanny valley-level terrifying. My heart skips a beat when I see it, and I am reminded my sister is something else. But my parents? They forget what they were about to say, losing their train of thought.

Confused.

They were like that all of yesterday. And today, I can't get hold of them either.

What the hell is going on?

The house was empty and dark when I went to check, although Mom has Zumba on Thursday evenings, so she tends to cook before her class. Dad should have been home, too, at six. Neither was there. The lights were on.

My hand's shaking a little.

"Ben?"

My fiancé answers from the lounge. "Yo, darling. Bring me a beer, would you?"

I sigh in relief. At least one thing in my life stayed predictable. I bet he's playing video games, unless it's time to watch the football game already.

Ben is a simple man. Constant. Rina never understood what I saw in him; the truth is, I'm used to him. I can count on him to be here, with simple needs that are no hardship to fulfill, and in exchange, I get warmth. Companionship. Someone to talk to.

I drop my bag on the kitchen counter, then head to the fridge to grab his beer and my white wine. I don't usually drink in the middle of the week, but I'm stressed as hell, so I pour a generous glass.

"How's your day?" Ben asks, eyes fixed on the gigantic TV screen.

According to the size to distance ration I checked online, we should have a 75-inch TV, as the sofa is seven and a half feet away from the wall where it hangs. And yes, I'm the kind of person who looks up ideal measurements before making purchases. Following a reliable guideline adjusted to my specific needs for the larger purchases in my life makes sense. A TV is a fair bit of change.

There's no excuse for the 98-inch monstrosity stuck to our wall—or the sound system screaming so loud our neighbors complained twice.

But again, that's entirely predictable from Ben. I remember rolling my eyes when he came home with that six months ago.

I don't mind, really. Life is about compromises. He gets his oversized toys. I get my three minutes of oral sex and two orgasms twice a week. Most of my friends can't boast half as much from their partners. Nor can my sister, for all her lovers and her parties and her sexy, tiny body made to be drooled over.

My heart constricts in my chest at the thought of Rina. And Rain.

Rain and Rina. I've always found it funny that their names were so close. Although they couldn't be any more different physically, they should be sisters, really. Rain's a giant, gorgeous brown witch, and Rina, a petite reddish-blonde sup, but they like the same music, the same parties, carry the same wild energy. Meanwhile, I'm an accountant, like my Dad.

I might love my sister, but I have a hard time dealing with two of them. Besides, Rina cares about me. She's always done her best to avoid actively hurting me. The same can't be said for Rain. I can't stand her.

I was surprised when she reached out. More horrified yet when I learned why she called. She hasn't heard from Rina either. That's not normal at all. If she's not with our family, then she should be with Rain. She doesn't really have anyone else in her life. Not anyone that matters.

I consider checking with some of her ex-boyfriends, but I sincerely doubt that'd be useful. Once she breaks a heart, she's done with it, no matter how much the boys she leaves behind beg and plead.

And they beg and plead to me. For years, I've been the in-between, the approachable sister to the larger-than-life, beautiful, gorgeous Rina.

She's the kind of person some guy might be crazy about, enough to kidnap or hurt. If one of her exes has her, it's not consensual.

I bite my lip.Maybe I should call the police. Instead, I try Mom and Dad's house phone again. It's after the Zumba class.

Nothing.

"Hey, what's the matter, babe?"

I blink. "Sorry."

I hand him the beer. Ben paused his game, which means I seriously freaked him out.

"I asked how your day was, and you spaced out."

Oh.

"I…I can't get hold of Rina. It's weird."

He snorts, unconcerned. "She's probably at some sort of rave or whatever."

My eyebrows knit together. "No, Rain would know. And she can't reach her either."

I'm about to say Mom and Dad are also gone today, when a sudden, loud crash resounds from my right. Glass bursts all around me, and I hide my face to protect my eyes, screaming. I only have time to glance up in confusion before someone takes a hold of me, pulling me up, in a painful hold around my throat.

No, not someone. Some thing . It's too strong to be human. My hands go to the arm, trying to remove it before it chokes me to death, but I might as well try to dislodge a vise. Then I start to thrash against it, trying to get away. All I get is a laugh.

"What have we here?" a teasing voice asks. "That's an appealing morsel."

I'm startled that the voice is female, because of the raw strength and the height of my attacker. I can't see them clearly between the tears in my eyes and the fact that my messy hair's tossed all around me, obscuring my vision.

"It's downright lewd, with all those curves." It's a male voice this time, coming from the direction of the sofa.

I notice something else: muffled screams or pleas. Ben. They're doing something to Ben, too.

I let go of the arm—I can't dislodge it anyway—to brush my damn hair out of the way, and I see them for the first time.

Except my eyes aren't working right, are they? I can't be seeing what I'm seeing.

The woman who holds me isn't tall—on the contrary. She must be shorter than Rina's five foot two frame. But she's holding me up before she's flying . Huge, diaphanous wings, like a butterfly's but larger than her entire body, bat too fast for my eyes to track the movement, keeping her in the air.

Her skin's a light purple, almost blue-ish—lilac? —and her face would be unbearably beautiful, if it weren't for the cruelty of her toothy smile. I note pointed ears, so large they poke out of her hair, curving at the tip. She's clothed in black leather, looking seriously slick, except for the copper red French beret on her head. It’s old, a little dirty, not quite fitting with the rest of the picture. I don’t know why exactly, but the very sight of that hat makes me sick.

The man's tall, at least six-five, and golden skinned, like an Italian, if they came with moss green hair and eyebrows. His ears are also pointed, but far more discreetly, the curve barely longer than a normal round ear.

I was born six years after the start of the Age of Blood, so I know humans aren't the only creatures on earth, but these things don't make sense. I had witches in my class. I've met shifters. Our accounting firm represents several vampires, and some occasionally pop by the office. I know what sups look like. Us, but better, or stronger.

These look nothing like humans. They feel nothing like humans.

What are they?

But even as the question come to my mind, the answer comes to me.

Because I know one person who feels like this. I know one person who smells like them, floral and wild and other.

I know one person whose voice is as fascinating. I've trained my mind to stay in the present, ignore her lilt my entire life.

They're like my sister.

"Please," I manage.

"It begs so prettily. Oh, if only I could keep you. But no, you've been bought and paid for, sweet thing. You're going to the bright court. Aren’t you lucky?"

The question is sweet, a lovely offer, and every part of my body wants to say yes. My brain sends alarm bells flaring.

" No ."

The creature blink. "She's got true sight." Now, she smiles, delighted, showing off a row of teeth filed into points, and past them, a dark tongue. "You're going to make your new mistress very, very happy, pet. What's your name?"

I'm starting to need oxygen. I cough, her fist still tight around my throat.

"And here I was asking such a simple question. Tanis?"

It happens so fast. Called upon, the man lifts what looks like a heavy cub ending in a sword, with a hilt in the middle, and lowers it on my fiance's head.

A crack.

Blood, red and thick, pools out a hole formed in his skin.

Ben stops begging.

His blue eyes are open, staring at me, both shocked, and completely, devastatingly empty.

I don't even scream. I don't have time to so much as open my mouth; I just stare in mute horror. And then he’s dead.

Ben is dead, gone in an instant.

Why am I not screaming? I’m trying to, but my vocal cords aren’t responding. I feel myself shaking all over, and bile rises up my throat.

" Tanis ," the thing holding me repeats, with a sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you? Hostages are useful alive. You're supposed to make it last, not just get rid of them immediately. That's why you never take the actual mark, you know."

She sounds both long suffering and instructional, like a patient, exasperated teacher.

While the man I've loved for eight years lies bleeding on the sofa.

"Now," she says, eerie gold eyes returning to me, "I'm sure there are other people we could torture to get what we need from you. You humans always have so many weaknesses. Your name."

I make myself swallow. "Ra—Rachel. Rachel Thorn."

"Thorn?"

She tilts her head, then brings her dainty little nose to the crook of my neck.

"Yes, I think I can smell it. It makes sense, really."

"What?" Tanis asks.

He's pulled out a handkerchief, and started cleaning his sword-mace of the evidence.

"She's touched. There's a fae ancestor in her line, likely many generations back. The blood can come back in some of the descendants. I bet that's why the queenspawn ended up in her family."

In any other circumstances, I'd think her completely insane. None of what she's saying makes sense. Touched? Queenspawn? But she's lilac, and pointy eared, and flying, and so very strong. She's not insane. The world is, all of a sudden.

I've been attacked by fae.

Fairies .

And at the back of my mind, I think, of course. Naturally. Duh.

Because I see it now. The delicate point of Rina's ear in a certain light. The shifting color of her eyes. And the times I swore I saw her hair was blue. Then I blinked and it was just like mine, reddish-blonde.

I dismissed it, because it was my sister and I honestly didn't care what she was. There are so many creatures in the world, all living at peace. If anything, most of the drama is created by humans.

I should have said something. I should have asked. I should have known.

"Hey, you think she can birth halfbloods, then? If she has fae blood, she might." Tanis leers, his eyes narrowing on my crotch, and I feel sick to my stomach.

I'd die before I let him touch me with those hands that bashed Ben's head in moments ago.

The short woman snorts. "She's far, far too rich for your blood. You couldn't afford one hair on her pretty head. At least, so long as she's useful."

Tanis sighs. Then both of them turn in the same direction—toward the broken window—though I don't hear or see anything.

They tense, and the woman lets go of my throat, finally setting me back on my feet.

I rub my poor skin, taking deep breaths, though my eyes stay fixed in the direction they're looking at.

What now?