Courts and Cabals by G. D'Moore (e reader comics txt) 📕

in French and English. Maybe that rubbed off on me in the womb. Other than those few things, my mother didn’t leave a lasting impression. As shitty as that was to think, my own inability to remember was proof of her fleeting impression on the world.

With a manly grunt of not wanting to deal with my emotions, I shoved everything back in the box and check my phone. It was time for dinner. Then study time, and finally lights out.

“Then we get to start it all over again. Yippie!” I sighed and collapsed on my bed suddenly very very tired.

Chapter 4

My life was mundane and repetitive at St. Vincent’s. I’d wake up with just enough time to make it to the dining hall for breakfast, then classes, eat lunch, more classes, and then head to the bleachers. I didn’t always run my less-than-legal operations down there. Too much of a good thing was bad for your health, and in this case, bad for my attendance at St. Vincent’s. Mr. Miller already had a hard-on for me, but I knew his schedule well enough to avoid him. Still, there was a supply and demand nature to the services I provided, so Thursday saw me back beneath the bleachers.

Brad’s hacktivists were taking the day off, but he sat on the gravel beside me typing away. Today, it was just homework. Jerome’s business never took a day off. Kids always wanted something to relax, especially with midterms and the weekend on the way. Jerome moved like a blur, taking money with one hand and delivering the product in the other. It was impressive, and he’d had plenty of practice.

Last but not least, Makaylah, who looked like she’d swallowed something sour. To be honest, she looked that way most of the time; apparently, constantly fighting for justice gave you resting bitch face. Today’s issue was that she’d been denied something she deemed vital to her existence. Was it vital to her existence . . . probably not? But it was vital to something she felt strongly about, which of course equated to her existence. I didn’t know if it was vampires, women, or SJWs, but I just didn’t get it.

She was in a funk, and it was putting me in a funk. I was about to call her on it when a wave of cold air swept under the bleachers. Since it was sixty degrees today, that didn’t bode well.

“Shit,” I gulped as a regal girl swept between the pylons followed by her entourage.

I knew Aveena Foxbelle by reputation only. She didn’t venture down here to slum it with the likes of me. I had two classes with her, but she was always surrounded by the cream of the crop. That’s what happened when you were noble Fae. A flawless face, high cheek bones, perfect body, cold silver eyes, and ears that came to a sharp point beneath sun-blonde hair; not to mention the power she wielded. She was a prime example of a species not of this realm.

That was another thing the Revelation taught us mere humans: there were more realms than ours out there, and one of the closest was the Faerie Realm. I wasn’t sure what to think about that place. I’d sure as shit never been, and was never going to go. Some people said it was candy land with gumdrop mountains and sugar waterfalls. Others said it was a land of constant warfare, between vying courts, for power and the favor of their eternal queen: an immortal goddess who made Machiavelli look like an inept toddler. Looking at Aveena, I’d put my money on the latter.

All you had to do was look in her steely eyes to see she was dangerous. It wasn’t “I’m a killer” dangerous, but it was definitely a “don’t fuck with me dangerous”. All Fae were dangerous. They literally had the ability to create something out of nothing. That wasn’t quite true, although their magic seemed to do just that. Apparently, they used their magical energy to create constructs of their will that were called glamour. This could be anything from a chopstick to a sword; or they could glamour themselves to create disguises or distractions. Whatever they chose to do, they were definitely one of the most formidable supernatural species.

Beyond what every Fae could do, I knew there were two primary factions: the Seelie and Unseelie. Those were human terms for them. If the Fae had their own distinctions, they didn’t share them. Each faction had their own culture, traditions, and societal norms, but the real difference that matter to me was how they treated others. Seelie tended to be amiable, or at least tolerant of others. More tolerant of people like shifters and other magic users, but they seemed to accept humans were part of the equation. The Unseelie . . . not so much. They tolerated shifters and other magic users, while seeing humans as humans would see bugs. At best, not worthy of their attention, and at worst, something to be squished if they became to irritating. Aveena was Unseelie.

“Mortal,” her gaze fell on me, and I felt the same cold chill as before, but this time deeper. It was in my muscles, bones; I could even feel it in my fucking teeth.

“Yes, Lady Foxbelle,” I bowed deeply to her, and would have considered full prostration if she’d make the cold go away.

Brad got up from where he sat and quickly moved away. Jerome was far enough away that he could stay put and be out of her eyesight. Makaylah sunk back into the shadows. Unseelie looked at vampires worse than humans. They saw them as lepers. Makaylah even being in the noble Fae’s presence could lead to violence.

“I hear you can acquire things . . .” she didn’t say any more, and I didn’t need her to.

I’d worked hard to earn the reputation