Page 14 of Lunar Diamonds
My bus arrived, packed with people. I flashed the fae driver my ticket and found a seat at the back beside a were-something, her aura orange. Without asking, I wouldn’t know what she shifted into it.
There were six unique auras in existence for each species in the world. Humans were yellow, witches blue, goblins green, vampires purple, were-creatures orange, and fae pink. Witches were usually obvious if their bangles were on show, as were goblins, for obvious reasons.
Aura lenses were mandatory, by order of the High Coven, so citizens were always aware of who they interreacted with. If you removed them outside of a replacement appointment, say hello to a heavy fine and possible incarceration.
There were flaws in the system. Much like the were-creature thing, I couldn’t tell what type of witch the woman two seats away was either. There were four types—sacred, scrying, shimmer, and the comparatively recent shadow. Not being able to detect a shadow witch could be problematic, but fixing these lens quirks was proving tricky for the High Coven at the moment.
Hopefully there’d be a better system implemented one day.
The bus turned onto the main stretch of road leading up to my flat. It wouldn’t be long now before I got under that hot shower, my skin tingling with anticipation at the coming spray.
The bus stopped to pick up a goblin and her two kids. A jolly woman, her children well behaved, the antithesis of the book-throwing goblin.
The poor guy. Arsehole or not, he didn’t deserve such a brutal death.
Next stop: home. Thank goodness.
I alighted the bus, hurrying to the entrance of my building. I lived on the top floor of a redbrick building at the top of a sloped road. Behind me was a massive housing estate bordering the edge of Coldharbour Downs—a popular scenic spot that’d once been an arena of bloodshed.
My flat provided fabulous views of the downs, and even the sea to the south of this coastal city. I often sat for hours taking in the view. It soothed me to no end.
My home. My haven. Waiting to embrace me.
As I crossed the threshold of my flat, relief came at me like a tsunami, forcing me to the floor. I sat with crossed legs, riding the high of home, and the high of the hot guy.
Until the weight of the day returned to slap me. All my fears came crashing down like hail. My hands began to shake, my chest choked with a tangle of vines.
“Oh, crap…” I rasped, trying to calm down.
But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I fought, I couldn’t get there, caught in a nasty cycle of panic.
Concrete filled my limbs, leaving me on the ground, overcome with sobbing.
“Leave me alone…” I begged the anguish.
The scar on my thigh flared with the same white-hot pain as the night the shade bit me. It dragged me out of my sorrow.
What the hell?
I got to my feet, wincing through the rising agony, and yanked my jeans down my legs to expose the scar. Blue smoke replaced the usual red marks, tiny wisps curling up at me.
Disbelief got me blinking. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real.”
A blue mist poured from the scar, trailing down my leg like dry ice. I touched it, recoiling from a painful spark.
Crap. I blew on my fingers, the burning sting the least of my worries. My leg really couldn’t take much more.
Spells would help.
The red light blinked on my bangle again, cutting me off. No threat detected.
My eyes watered from the stabbing agony, sorrowful tears on hold. I took a step forward, pain shooting into both feet, my headache blazing with hurt. I lost my balance, falling back onto my arse.
“Dammit!” I bit out.
The blue mist spread across the floorboards, the last wisps leaving my scar. It swirled into an expanding circle, bringing the temperature of my flat down.
Condensation escaped my lips with each hitched breath, my fingers numbing, a bitter sting reaching my bones.
