Tony took a long drag from the cigarette as he glared at the tattered sign on his office door. “Private ye.” He exhaled, and a cloud of gray smoke blocked the letters from his vision. He stared at the smoldering cigarette butt before rubbing it onto blank space
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I pulled the handcuffs from my belt and turned to the drug dealer, whom my partner held at gun point. The guy had somewhere in the area of twenty-seven arms and depending on what family he was from might have another—usually with a gun—hiding up one of his noses. I groaned.
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“Of course, it’s genuine.” I rub my sweaty palms together in a vain attempt to relieve my tension. “This is a worthy trade.”
This is the one. Surely this old farmer will deliver me from my burden.
“Burden, am I?”
Orc fumes! Not a moment’s peace.
“This isn’t a jolly jaunt for me either, Master.”
“Don’t you want to solve the mystery?” My friend Tina had a travel bag thrown over one shoulder.
“No,” I replied, laying my long neck back down and relaxing in my bed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Humans are a myth.” We had stories, sure, but they were just that—stories.
“I’m gonna find them.”
The monstrous leviathan rises from the depths, swimming across the bay toward Super Awesome City. I grin. At last, the battle where I prove myself has come. Every shortsighted inventor who dismissed my ideas, every teacher who gave me detention for starting food fights in class—they will all look upon me as their savior.
“Load the pineapults!” I bark.
Today was my birthday, which meant waking up early to lock my windows and doors. I’d already powered down Ynette, and my cell-glasses rested on the charger. The lenses flashed red, green, then yellow—voice mails, text messages and vid chats.
Oh my. The birthday wishes were starting early.
I’ve been getting out more ever since the tiger chose not to eat me.
I don’t care for the brittle air poking my eyes, nor do I enjoy the shrieking pigeons that habitually scatter when I—and only I—approach. But today, as I bump against strangers on the public bus, I have a mission: my first date with Harry.
“Psst. Lase, where are you?”
“Over here.”
Brande wandered between bookshelves. “Where? I see only books.”
“Yes, isn’t it amazing?” Lase appeared from behind a stack holding four musty tomes.
There were no bats. So weird. Most vampires enjoyed playing into the stereotypes. Throughout her volunteering as a bloodlender, Emily had seen shutters painted blood red, fang-shaped windows, and even encountered guard bats that pooped on her head.
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A sizzling screech reverberated through the Mud Runner as the laser gouged a line across my hull.
“I never expected to be grateful I didn’t repaint her.” Or so thrilled I hadn’t had the merits for it. I gritted my teeth. “Earl! Why are…”
My co-pilot was not in his seat. I muttered a curse against all androids and rolled the spaceship to one side, avoiding another blast.
“May I ask a deeply personal question?”
“Again?” I turned to the dwarf, taking care to roll my eyes dramatically enough for him to notice from his position below.
“It’s been five minutes since my last one.”
“Not long enough.”
“Oh.”
He was quiet for a whole sixty seconds while I rigged my net in the trees. Knots: secure. Branches: sturdy. It would work.
“Today is going to be a good day. I can feel it.” Roe strapped on his belt and gave his sword, Mike, a pat.
“Ow.” Mike huffed. “I told you. No touchy-touchy.”
“Somebody’s grumpy today.” Roe pulled on his boots and stretched. Nothing was going to sully his fine mood, not even his sort-of-faithful sword he’d stolen…
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