Dawn till Dusk: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Genesis Crystal Saga Book 1)

by Becky Moynihan

  Normally, Fae were strict vegetarians. We didn’t consume animal meat like a ravenous pack of wolves—that was the shifter’s thing. Our options were limited, especially since we weren’t allowed to shop in their stores. Fruit was a rare commodity in our territory, which made our lifestyle that much more of a challenge.

  For the next several blocks, I ignored Benji and his firecracker mouth. He finally grew bored and skipped off, leaving me to my thoughts. With his mom always taking ill, he was practically an orphan. I had snuck into their shoddy apartment across from mine on more than one occasion and tried to heal her. But her sickness was beyond my abilities. If she didn’t get well soon, Benji would be out on the streets to fend for himself. Or worse, taken to the Fae orphanage.

  A shudder rippled through me. When I’d come of age five years ago, I freed myself of those walls, but I still had nightmares. Although the kid was a pest at times, I didn’t want that life for him. And I couldn’t take him in. I could barely take care of my cat, let alone an energetic eight-year-old boy.

  By the time I made it to Smithfield Press, harsh breaths sawed in and out of my lungs. Maybe my rib needed another blast of healing. No time. I slipped through the back door and clocked in. Quickly throwing on an apron, I got to work and prayed to Gaia that the boss was on lunch break. Maybe he’d chalk up the late timestamp to faulty machinery. Most of the machines in this miserable factory were on their last legs anyway.

  But ten minutes later, as I was lifting a fifty pound stack of paper, I felt his presence behind me. More like smelled him. I didn’t think he owned a bar of soap.

  “Tarik, you’re late again.”

  With a grunt, I heaved my load onto the assembly belt. “Sorry, boss. A couple of shifters got the drop on me last night. I won’t let it happen again.”

  I faced him and my chest tightened. He had that look, the one that said I had screwed up for the last time. “If you didn’t pick fights in their territory after dark, you wouldn’t be having these problems. Oh, you didn’t think I knew about that? I had to ask around, but I finally got the scoop.” He muttered incoherently for several seconds as I braced for the inevitable blow. “The thing is, Tarik, you’re a troublemaker and I don’t need that in my workplace. If the wrong kind of shifters found out I let you stay on after three strikes, public discipline would be the least of our worries.”

  He blew out a breath, raking salt-and-pepper hair behind his pointed Fae ears. “I can’t jeopardize my position in Nathra for you. Do you have any idea how hard it is for a Fae to climb up the corporate ladder? No, of course you don’t,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. “Get out of here, Tarik. You’re done.”

  My stomach rolled. Not again. “But, sir—”

  “No. No more chances. You’re fired. I want to see you gone in five minutes or I’ll have Sully kick you out.” With that, he turned, shaking his head some more.

  Bad luck. That’s all I was. All I’d ever be.

  I ripped my apron off. Wadding it into a ball, I chucked the cloth as hard as I could. My bones vibrated with the need to punch the life out of something, but there was only paper. Lots and lots of paper spewing nothing but crap about Fae and praise for the animals who ran this city. Good enough. I grabbed the fifty pound stack and, with a growl, flung the whole thing in the air. Paper burst everywhere, rattling, fluttering to the cement in a disorderly heap.

  A small kernel of satisfaction bloomed in my gut. I had wanted to do that for six long months. A Fae employee ground to a halt in front of me, bug-eyed and slack-jawed. I straightened, then snarled, “What are you looking at?”

  “You—you’re going to get us all killed,” he stammered, staring at the mess I’d made.

  The words almost knocked me over. Grisly images, ones that wouldn’t stop haunting me, rapid-fired through my brain. I struggled to keep my angry mask firmly in place. “Get out of here before I kill you myself,” I barked.

  He skittered away. Loud breaths heaved from my chest. I needed to leave before I destroyed something else and Sully came after me. That guy was scary big for a Fae, but I didn’t want to fight my own kind.

  I forced myself toward the exit, stomping on paper as I went. One stuck to the bottom of my bare foot and I bent to rip the sheet off. I prepared to crumple the ad when a word caught my eye: “Wanted.”

  Reading further, my eyes widened. I didn’t have time to stew over the ad’s contents, though, not when someone yelled for the boss and jabbed a finger at the mess. Fisting the paper, I stalked out of the printing press.

  I didn’t bother saying farewell to anyone. They wouldn’t miss me anyway because they were right. I caused destruction wherever I went. My departure was probably the highlight of their day.

  Spoiled, stubborn, rotten . . .

  A string of names, each worse than the last, slurred through my mind. I screamed into the silence of my apartment. My hands trembled at my sides and I clenched them into fists, ignoring the light prick of angry tears growing behind my eyes. I was nothing like the shifters in this city. The accusation stung.

  His opinion doesn’t matter. At least he’s alive to have one.

  Across the room my cell phone vibrated on the coffee table. Probably Nevaeh dying for an update. She could wait a few more minutes.

  Shattered bits of ceramic stared up at me, mocking me from the entryway floor. I glared bitterly at the mess, then at the door. I should go after him. If any shifters saw him in his current state, they wouldn’t think twice about taking advantage and killing him. Alec wouldn’t stop them. The prick was an easy target.

  I tugged on my lip ring, considering my options. If anyone saw that Fae barreling from the building, they would likely report him to Mordecai. I didn’t need my adoptive father tracing his presence back to me. But, on the upside, most shifters in my building should be at work or asleep right now. The odds were in my favor. Decent, even. That Fae, though . . .

  Damnit, conscience.

  He was in rough shape. Rarely did a fight get that far without my intervention, and usually this Fae held his own long enough that a stern warning would see both sides on their way. Three on one though? Even he didn’t stand much of a chance. Part of me admired his tenacity, that he didn’t just accept his lot in life as his final place.

  Maybe the Fae didn’t want or ask for my help, but they needed it. And that man in particular . . . hell, he might be angry about my help, but if I didn’t save him he was going to end up in an alley, lost and forgotten.

  The thought was a lead weight in my stomach.

  With a sigh, I grabbed the broom from the corner and swept the mess into a dustpan. He could have a head start. I wasn’t keen to relive the last time a vase had broken across my floor—I had forgotten about the mess when I returned hours later, and was rewarded with bare feet full of tiny clear splinters. Moving the vase would mean redoing the entire apartment, but that Fae was right . . . this was a terrible spot for a vase.

  The shards clinked together as I poured them in the trash can, but they were drowned out by a loud thump on the balcony. I flicked a glance at the sliding doors. The dark silhouette of a man strode forward, his body shaking as sharp scales retracted into his skin. He slid the door aside, mouth cracking into a wide grin.

  “Hey, Reagan.” I didn’t like the way my name rolled on his tongue. He wagged an eyebrow.

  I frowned. “Alec. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you, of course,” Alec purred. He leaned across the kitchen counter-top, noisily biting into a stolen apple. “You look like crap, by the way.”

  “You’re cheerful this morning. Do you have a purpose for this visit or are you going to”—I grimaced as my gaze flicked to his bare waist before landing back on his growing smile—“hang out?”

  “Little bit of both.”

  “Little bit is right,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

  Of course Alec dodged giving me a straight answer. He seemed to think no one was impervious to his alleged cha
rms—including me. I could admit he was handsome, in that generic movie star type of way. Sun-tanned skin, toned abs covered in the best tattoo work money could buy, and bright blue eyes. The sides of his head were shaved, the dark brown hair on top long and currently ruffled, strands of which curled down onto his forehead. His beauty was superficial, though. Alec was exactly like his father, equally cruel and malicious.

  “I have places to be, so . . .” I stared pointedly at the door.

  “I did say I had a purpose for being here,” Alec started. “I heard some rumors and I was curious. Judging by the state of your hair, I’m assuming they’re true.”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?” I reached up, patting the matted clump on top of my head. Great. Frowning, I ran my fingers through the blue and black strands, tying them back into a hairband.

  “Did you really bring a Fae back to your penthouse last night?”

  I stared at him, schooling my expression into careful amusement even as my mind raced. “Why would I bring a Fae up here? I had to chase that redhead from The Pit again. When I got home I was too hopped up to go right to sleep.”

  Alec stepped around the counter. “What happened to your vase?”

  “I knocked into the table, right before you showed up. Thus the broom. The shards are in the trash. Anything else, Sherlock?”

  His eyes fell to the trash can and my lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. When he looked up again, he seemed sated. Not enough though, when the next words from his lips were, “Where are you going then, if you didn’t sleep?”

  “I need a new set of earbuds,” I said evenly. “You know damned well I don’t sleep without them, and I’m exhausted.”

  Alec stepped closer, a predatory glint in his eyes. I knew his routine and still fell into step, not moving fast enough to stop him from trapping me against the counter-top. Gritting my teeth, I stared up at him and crossed my arms over my chest. He licked his lips.

  “You know, if sleep is a problem . . . I can help you with that.”

  “Ew. You’re like my brother.”

  “Adopted brother, doesn’t count.” He grinned. “And we were never close siblings anyway.”

  “You’re disgusting.” I gagged, placing my hands against his bare chest and shoving him backward. He resisted for a moment, then stepped away with a shrug.

  “I have to run my patrol. Maybe tomorrow morning?” Alec winked and chucked his mostly eaten apple at me. I caught the wet core at the last second, right before he strode to the balcony. His wings extended, arms and legs shortening. Within moments, he changed into a shimmering, dark blue dragon that flapped once and disappeared.

  —

  I almost went to bed. I almost decided that the asinine, mouthy Fae didn’t deserve my help. Or my precious sleeping time.

  But some part of me felt responsible for that Fae. I had rescued him, after all. I knew what condition he was in. I really should have insisted he stay; let him throw his tantrum, maybe learn his name so I didn’t have to keep calling him “that Fae.”

  “Prick” could do as a filler.

  I snorted. He wouldn’t have stayed without a real fuss and Alec would have murdered him in a second flat. A male anywhere near me? Alec was as possessive as his father, and they both seemed to think I had some sort of property value to them. Once, I had even overheard them talking about how many children I would bear Alec. I shivered. No thanks.

  Shoving those unpleasant thoughts aside, I tugged on my boots and punched the elevator button for the bottom floor. If Alec hadn’t been so suspicious I could have asked him where this Fae worked. The streets weren’t overly busy this early in the day, but searching on foot could still take a while. Using my bike would draw too much attention, though.

  All I had to do was see him safely to his own district. No engagement needed. Then I was free.

  I was going to regret cutting my sleep on patrol tonight.

  The thought echoed in my mind again when ten minutes passed with no luck. Twenty. An empty soda can clattered away from the toe of my shoe and I sighed, searching the doors and streets around me. I was on the verge of returning home when the door of Smithfield Press banged open. A shock of red hair caught my eye. I ducked around the side of the building, seeking a hiding spot. The roads in this part of the city were narrow, mostly used by foot traffic, so my options were limited. If I crossed the street, he would see me; playing the invisible guardian would be far preferable to dealing with that nasty temper again.

  Rough concrete bit into my palm as I leaned out, peering around the corner. He wasn’t moving quickly. His head was downturned, like he was staring at something in his hands.

  I took advantage of his distraction to creep closer, crouching behind a line of trash bins. He looked up, as if he could hear the thunder of my pulse. My heart skittered, but he turned, oblivious to his tail. I waited for another chance to move. His right hand was balled into a fist at his side, his shoulders trembling—angry. Again. Always, with this one, always so angry.

  In my peripheral, a coyote shifter prowled the borderline, almost parallel to where the Fae was walking. He didn’t notice me, his attention locked on his distracted target. I bit back the growl that rose in my throat. Alec should be watching this area, but as I scanned the skies all I saw were puffs of white drifting across clear blue.

  No shifters should be this close to the Fae district unsupervised. There were rules and, as usual, Alec was disregarding them. I could clear the shifter out easy enough—most of them weren’t willing to tango with an Enforcer—but if I moved, the Fae would be alerted immediately. He would know I was basically stalking him.

  In my distraction, I missed the coyote shifter moving forward. The animal was mangy, its tail flicking back and forth. I shivered. That patchy, clumped fur . . . what if he carried diseases? Uncertainty jumped around in my stomach. I could stop him right here. Reveal myself.

  And that Fae wasn’t in any condition to fight today. The coyote would tear him to shreds. Releasing a string of swears under my breath I stepped out from my shelter, cracking my knuckles. Dark eyes met mine as the coyote’s ears caught the sound.

  “Why are you on Fae territory?”

  His eyes darted from mine, seeking an escape, but I prowled closer. He tensed, then shifted into human form. “I’m sorry, Enforcer. I’m a bit lost.”

  “Lost? In the only part of the city shifters aren’t allowed unescorted?” I loosed the growl I had been holding, watching as fear shivered up his spine. Good. He should be afraid. I moved closer and said quietly, “If I catch you anywhere near this district again you’ll wish the dragons had found you first.”

  He nodded and fled, but I didn’t miss the glance he shot over my shoulder. Another shifter with a vendetta against this Fae. I sighed. Alec was going to catch hell from me for not watching the border. When the coyote shifter was almost out of sight, my shoulders relaxed.

  Then tensed again when a voice behind me snarled, “What are you, my personal stalker now?”

  I spun on my heel. A muscle ticked along the line of his jaw, his expression blazing with anger. His fist tightened around a piece of paper. I scanned the purple marks that darkened his skin—and paused. The bruises on his face and arms were significantly better. More so than they should have been, even with my aid. “How did you heal so quickly?”

  The Fae crossed his arms, hiding the paper from view. “I asked you a question first.” He raised his eyebrows mockingly.

  “I followed you, yes. I wanted to make sure no shifters tried to bother you. And good thing I did too.” I motioned behind me, at the spot where the coyote shifter had been.

  He clenched and unclenched his jaw, green eyes narrowing. “Let’s make something crystal clear: I’m not breaking any laws, so butt out. You’re crossing a line, Enforcer.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I am crossing a line. The Fae-shifter borderline.” I hopped back and forth over a crack in the sidewalk to emphasize my point, grinning as I added, “A
nd I’m paid quite well to be here. But don’t worry. You’ve cashed in your last favor.”

  I turned on my heel to leave. Sleep and a soft pile of blankets were calling my name.

  “You cost me my job. So keep your nosy self out of my business.”

  I stiffened, rolling my shoulders back as I turned to face him once more. “You cost yourself your job, you mean. Picking fights like you do . . .” I shrugged. “Mordecai has rules about Fae jobs. I know one tardy isn’t enough to get you fired. Nice try, but you can’t put this one on me.”

  My hands slid to my hips, heat simmering through my blood. He didn’t have to want or accept my help, but to put his job loss on me? I wasn’t about to take the blame for that. He started to open his mouth, but before he could speak I snapped, “Remember who you’re addressing. Watch your mouth.”

  His expression changed then. He looked almost . . . comfortable. Like he was settling in for a fight. Sure enough, he opened his mouth and off he went.

  “Oh. My bad. Remind me again what exactly you do?” I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore him. I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted to hit anyone as much as I wanted to deck him right now. He smirked. “For an Enforcer, you’re quite the pushover. Why don’t you hit me already for being—”

  I didn’t know what came over me. Exhaustion, maybe, but that was no excuse.

  One moment my Enforcer training was carefully reined behind shaking fists and gritted teeth. The next? Venom exploded in my veins and I—

  I slapped him.

  Hard.

  Shock lit up his eyes, likely to match my own, and the muscles in his arms tensed. I shook my head, blinking away the red.

  “What is your problem?” I growled, even as my mind reeled. I hit him. I hit him. What the hell was wrong with me? I reined in my riotous emotions long enough to add, “Why are you so angry all the time?”

  Slowly, he raised a hand to his cheek, eyes wide as if he couldn’t believe what I had done. That makes two of us. I had never actually hit him before. Threatened to, once or twice, but I had never intended to follow through.