Outside the glass walls of my office, people bustled purposefully about the main floor of the Magical Persons Agency. I, however, sat behind my desk ready to hit my head against one of said walls.
Someone knocked on my door, then rattled the handle. I looked up just as Agent Natalia phased through the
Pushing Gran’s wheelchair across the threshold into the city’s largest art museum, I was immediately struck by the grandeur of the place. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I wasn’t sure whether Gran’s apartment or this museum held more fascinating paintings, books, and artifacts.
For today’s weekly excursion, the care home
“Baku-san, come eat my dreams.” Woozy with exhaustion, I laid my head back on the clean white pillow to wait. But not to sleep. I could never sleep until the mission was over.
Outside the window of the tiny hotel room, a neon sign flickered in the endless city lights of Tokyo.
“Another human got in.”
Clio yawned and preened one long coppery feather. Annoying humans. “Another? Which portal this time?”
“That’s the problem.” The minotaur shifted his hooves in the sand of the desert zone. “We don’t know how she got in.”
“You’re too soft, Terminus. You should block every portal. How are
Katrina stood poised at the edge of the cave, her breath held behind clenched teeth. Her sword was raised as she waited for the sandworm to smell its prey. Breathe in… Quietness burned in her ears. Breathe out… Nothing stirred from the depths. Katrina couldn’t move. Her eyes vibrated from staring into
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When facing a monster, espionage missions don’t have to be lethal.
Hopefully this is one of those times, Secret Agent Rebecca Edelweiss thought as she knocked on the cabin’s entrance. She squared her shoulders and put on her I mean business face while waiting for the creature to answer.
A bushy-haired, seven-foot man
We all face certain choices: Life or death, nurturer or destroyer, violence or peace. Each kitsune must choose her own path.
When grown, we travel into the world of Men, choosing a man to bind ourselves to… for the rest of his life. If we choose the path of violence, suffering and death come
Cal Ravenwood would have killed for a cigarette. Much to his chagrin, he was trying to quit. Not so much for health reasons, but because nicotine and the use of magic didn’t mix well. It was one of the unspoken laws of the Dark Matter, the entity from which all magic was born.
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The air smells like history, old paint, and other cats.
Your stomach flips as you look around the basement, the human who carried you down already retreating back upstairs. Cats of varying breeds mill about, lounge atop antique pipes, and nap in the crumbling nooks and crannies of the hall, a patchwork of…
Whoever imagined living on a cloud would be comfortable is an idiot.
Now, obviously, I don’t mean a real cloud. Those are just water droplets suspended in the atmosphere. No. I mean the type of cloud children envision: big fluffy cotton balls where naked babies sporting soft, feathery wings hang out and play the harp.
Gentle waves brushed against the rocks of the southern California beach, the sun dipping into the ocean. Seagulls chattered as they pecked over scraps of food left on the empty beach.
Mariana jogged down the worn boardwalk, her bare feet stinging from the fading heat of the day. Glancing over her shoulder,
“Officer, what you mean I can’t pump my own gas?” The shorter man scowled up from his car, biting off his words. The neon sign of the station flickered on and off while the smell of exhaust filled Officer Ortega’s nostrils.
Ortega sighed. “I’m sorry sir, that’s the law in New Jersey,”
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