The late bus ride home seemed longer than usual, and by the time it arrived at her stop, she vacillated between putting her fist through a window and sobbing.

Wine. That’s what I need. Wine with Victoria.

Her best friend was a vampire and had always been able to pull her out of any funk… or make her laugh when she felt down or angry. They’d met four years earlier at a bar and ended up tying for the grand prize in a karaoke match. Most of the time, Avery didn’t associate with her kind because Fae were taught from an early age that their blood was a delicacy to vampires. Fae had been murdered simply for their blood.

Victoria was different from other vampires Avery had dealt with. She hated that she needed blood to survive, and only hunted when absolutely necessary. She never, ever killed. Avery thought of her like a kitten in a tiger suit—she seemed fierce, but really didn’t possess a mean bone in her body. Thankfully, the only danger Victoria posed was drinking more than her fair share of wine and tended not to bother Avery’s veins unless she offered. It didn’t happen often, but sometimes Victoria preferred to take her nourishment from Avery instead of hunting down a complete stranger.

Avery stepped off the bus and reached for her cell phone. When she dialed her friend’s number, it went straight to voicemail. Frustrating. I really need to talk to her, but she’s probably just waking up. Not being able to reach her friend annoyed her just the same.

She walked to her apartment complex at a faster pace than normal… and on high alert. The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that she would see more of Jake. The dumb dog probably wouldn’t allow a faery who had bested him to go unpunished.

Once inside the lobby of her apartment building, she retrieved the keys from her pocket and opened the mailbox. While Avery thumbed through the pieces of mail, she realized she probably wouldn’t be able to pay the power bill or the gas bill she held in her hand. With a sigh, she slammed the box closed and locked it.

After climbing the stairs to the second floor and pushing open the door leading to the corridor, she hoped the worst of this day was over. Instead, she rounded the corner and stopped short. Two men stood in front of her apartment, their backs to her. She took a few steps away and moved out of their line of sight. Her legs wobbled with fear and uncertainty. Leaning against the wall for support, she closed her eyes for a moment.

Could this be the Rainier pack here for revenge? If so, they didn’t waste any time.

She peeked around the corner at the two again. The tallest man, thin with neatly combed hair, pounded on her door. A shorter, stocky guy with greying hair stared at it, as if willing it to open. She’d never seen a heavy were-shifter. All that running through the forest searching for prey tended to keep them very lean. Besides, when was the last time she’d seen one of the dogs in a suit? Never.

Avery stepped lightly and rounded the corner, taking a long inhale. Although a full fifty feet away, she thought she may be able to catch the scent of a shifter. The air smelled clean. Taking another deep breath, she decided to draw some attention to herself and take a chance on their reaction.

“Can I help you?” she called from down the hall.

They both turned to face her. “We’re looking for Avery Dubois,” the taller one said. “We understand she lives in this unit. Do you know her?”

They certainly didn’t act like shifters. Instead, they were respectful. She took a few more steps in their direction.

“I know her. Can I ask what this is about?”

The men exchanged glances, and the taller one shrugged as if he gave the shorter guy permission to speak.

“We’re from the Seattle Police Department,” he said, pulling a wallet from his back pocket and revealing a gold badge. “I’m Detective Black, and this is Detective McAllister. It’s personal.”

As she stared at the shiny emblem, her limbs became paralyzed when an icy feeling settled in her chest.

I hope I’m not in trouble with the law. She speculated about possible reasons why the detectives might be there. Had someone reported the incident from work? Avery hadn’t been able to reach her mother for two days. Maybe she was sick? Or she’d been in an accident? If she was sick, why would the cops be here? If she’d been in an accident, wouldn’t the hospital or someone else call her?

Avery became dizzy and forced herself to push other possibilities for why the cops would be standing at her door aside.

“I’m Avery,” she said, afraid to give them any other information until she knew their purpose for being there.

The two exchanged glances again.

“We’re here about your mother. Can we go inside?” McAllister asked.

Her knees weakened as she approached the pair. She no longer suspected them of being shifters, and the closer she got, the more certain she became. No, these were real cops, and they had come on serious business.

Avery’s hands shook as she tried to find the right key and fit it into the deadbolt, but the ring dropped on the floor instead. Detective Black bent down and retrieved it for her. She tried and failed again, sighing as she turned to them.

“Can’t you just tell me right now? I’m a nervous wreck. I can’t even get the key in the door. What happened to my mom? Is she going to be okay?”

Detective McAllister opened his palm to her, his brown eyes shining with sympathy. “I’ll open it for you. It’s best if we talk inside.”

She dropped the keys into his hand, and a heavy feeling settled into her chest as tears built behind her eyes. He wouldn’t be here… and he certainly wouldn’t pity her if everything was okay.

As the door swung open, she stared inside her apartment. If she didn’t go in, they wouldn’t deliver any bad news, right?

Detective Black lightly touched her shoulder blades, applying some pressure, as if to urge her on. “Ms. Dubois? Let’s go inside.”

“My mom’s not all right, is she?” Avery whispered as tears escaped and rolled down her cheeks.

“Let’s go inside.”

Taking a deep breath, she walked the rest of the way in.

Avery almost fell onto the couch. It probably appeared that her legs had given out… not far from the truth. She motioned the detectives to take the two high-backed chairs facing her. Glancing around her apartment, she tried to see it through their eyes.

The room resembled a damned jungle. Instead of the crazy cat lady, the detectives probably thought the crazy plant lady lived there.

As a half-Fae, she loved being surrounded by plants and had dozens throughout the tiny space. Ferns, bonsai, and herbs littered the apartment. She focused on the detectives while wiping wet cheeks with the back of one hand. Detective McAllister seemed to be studying the area more intently than his partner.

She twisted both hands in front of her, afraid to ask about details. At the same time, the urgency to know what happened to Melia overwhelmed her.

“When was the last time you spoke to your mom?” Black asked as he took out a small notebook and a pen.

“Two days ago,” she said, her voice barely above a shaky whisper. “Where is she?”

McAllister leaned forward and placed both elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. “Ms. Dubois, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your mother was found dead a few hours ago.”

Her head spun, and she couldn’t catch her breath. Nausea nearly overtook her, and she pulled a couch cushion onto her lap and gripped its sides as if it would keep her from toppling over.

It seemed that the walls of her apartment were closing in around her, and she gasped again for air. The weight of his words was suffocating.

“Ms. Dubois?”

McAllister’s voice sounded far away—as if she’d somehow traveled to a different dimension and could only hear him through a tunnel filled with cotton.

“Get her some water,” she heard him say to Black. “I think she’s going to pass out.”

A moment later, a cup appeared in front of her, but before Avery took it, she stared at it and began to sob. The mug had a picture of a white unicorn with a rainbow mane and tail. It had been a gift from her mom.

Long moments later, the cup ended up in her hand. She wasn’t sure if someone had placed it there, or if she’d grabbed it herself. After taking a sip of water, she cradled it next to her breast and leaned back against the sofa cushions. Right now, the stupid cup was her only connection to her mother.

Avery stared at it and rocked back and forth, having no idea how much time had passed. When she finally looked up, she was almost surprised to see the detectives staring back at her. They’d been so quiet, she thought they’d left.

“Is there someone you’d like us to call?” McAllister asked.

She thought about Victoria but decided against it. The sun hadn’t fully set yet despite the time going on nine, and Victoria would only worry about her and want to be by her side. Avery wouldn’t risk having her friend fry alive while trying to get to her in her time of need.

“No,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper. “Not now.”

Her mother was dead.

But how?

“How did she die? What happened?” she asked. “I talk to her all the time. She hasn’t been sick.”

The detectives once again exchanged glances, then McAllister spoke again. “We… uh… we believe she was murdered.”

His words again felt like a fist to the gut. Murdered? Who in the world would want to kill her mother?

She had been one of the good ones—heavily involved in her church, volunteering at homeless shelters, reading to underprivileged kids at the library—as far as Avery was concerned, her mother might have been up for sainthood.

The whole situation seemed so obscene. She wondered for a moment if this was some sick joke but quickly dismissed that theory as she took in the serious expressions on the detectives’ faces.

“Do you know anyone who would want to hurt her?” Black asked.

She stared at the floor between them and shook her head. Her whole world had just imploded around her. A headache started up behind her eyes and the weight of the news felt as if it may crush her where she sat and send her through the floorboards.

“No one?” he urged.

Avery glanced up at him through wet lashes and wiped an arm across her face, smearing snot on it and not caring in the least bit.

“I have no idea who would want to hurt her. She is… she was like an angel directly from Heaven. She spent her life giving to others and finding people she could help. There wasn’t a cruel bone in her body.”

She burst into tears again and shut her eyes, longing to be left alone where she could curl up in bed under the blankets and pretend they’d never brought the news.

One of the detectives cleared his throat, and she opened her eyes. They were both standing before her. McAllister had a card in his hand extended to her.

“If you think of anything, please contact us. We’re truly sorry for your loss. Are you sure there’s not anyone we can call for you?”

She shook her head, not bothering to get to her feet. They were big boys; they could show themselves out. Besides, she probably couldn’t stand on her weak legs even if she tried.

When she was finally alone, her whole body began to shake uncontrollably. The debilitating ache in her chest felt like it might actually kill her, as if she were having a heart attack.

Avery fell to her side on the couch and curled up in a fetal position, sobs wracking her body. Had she ever felt so vulnerable and alone?

No, because her mother had always been there for her, to comfort her when she needed it, to offer advice.

A moment later, a soft knock on the door brought her thoughts back to the present. She didn’t have the energy to get up and answer it, and she didn’t want to see anyone, so she ignored it.

The knock sounded again, and the door opened just a crack.

“Ms. Dubois? It’s Detective McAllister again. Can I come in?”

She sat up, wondering about his return. To pepper her with more questions?

“Yeah.”

He stepped in and shut the panel but remained there.

“I know you’re part Fae,” he said, his voice low as if to be sure no one heard him.

She stared at him as shock replaced her grief. If he knew she was Fae, what did that make him? Not human. They didn’t know paranormals lived in their world. McAllister certainly wasn’t vampire because the sun had yet to fully set. He didn’t smell like a shifter. Besides, in her experience, they usually hung out on the other side of the law. Many were burglars, rapists, or just awful beings in general.

“I’m Fae, as well,” he continued, then glanced around the apartment. “The plants pretty much gave you away.”

Avery gasped as she let that sink in, not knowing how to respond. Color her surprised. She hadn’t detected anything paranormal about him.

“I work in the human police department so I can keep an eye out for any activity from our other paranormal friends, namely shifters and vampires,” he continued. “I just wanted to pass on my condolences again. It’s obvious your mother was very important to you, and I promise, from one Fae to another, I’m going to do everything in my power to find who did this.”

She knew he meant well, but the words did nothing to fill the emptiness in her soul.

“We’ll need you to come down and identify the body. We’re sure it’s your mother, but it’s protocol.”

His words were spoken as fact, but they left a small spark of hope ignited within her that perhaps all this had been a huge misunderstanding and her mother was alive and well.

He opened the door again and slipped out into the hallway. Avery rose on unstable legs and lunged toward the door. After flipping all the locks, she leaned against the panel and glanced around her apartment. The horrid, sinking feeling of loneliness seemed as if it would destroy her from the inside out. She slid down to the floor, wrapped her arms around her shins, placed her head on her knees, and didn’t even try to hold back the sobs.

After what might have been fifteen minutes or an hour, when no more tears rolled down her cheeks, she got up and poured herself a glass of wine.

This day had gone from bad to right down into the deepest depths of the shitter. She stood in the dark kitchen and contemplated what tomorrow would bring. A trip to the morgue? She dreaded planning the funeral. At some point, she’d need to visit her mother’s apartment and sort through her belongings.

With a sigh, she poured more wine. In all the emotional strain and anxiety about her mother’s death, she’d almost forgotten the loss of her job. Not to mention a pack of werewolves were after her.

How could life get any worse?

Avery knew she shouldn’t think that way. Tempting fate was dangerous business.