Forsaken Fae (Forsaken Fae #1) - R.A. Steffan Page 0,1

a life preserver, Len had quickly discovered that while humans might consider themselves to be the planet’s apex predators, in reality they were more akin to sheep than to lions.

The vast majority of Earth’s residents were unaware that their world had become a sort of demilitarized zone in the aftermath of a millennia-long war between two races far more powerful than humans—the Demons and the Fae. The Fae had arguably won the conflict, and since that time, they’d infiltrated human government and social institutions behind the scenes to a truly disturbing degree.

Most days, Len didn’t regret the bizarre series of events that had led to him learning about all this. Not much, anyway. Many of those events were tied up with Zorah, who’d been a coworker of his before she’d become embroiled in supernatural politics and eventually been turned into a vampire. On days like today, however, with the World’s Most Irritating Faerie drooling onto his faded upholstery, Len could happily have returned to ignorance.

Rans frowned down at the unconscious Fae and sighed. He lifted a hand to his own head, dragging pale fingers through waves of dark, messy hair in a frustrated gesture. Len had a sneaking suspicion that the vampire’s ‘casually mussed rock star’ look required almost as much product to maintain as Len’s brightly dyed ombre fauxhawk—even though Rans’ appearance usually managed to give the impression that he’d just rolled out of bed, freshly fucked.

“Right. Explanations. Bit of a long story, I’m afraid,” Rans said.

Zorah flopped down to sit on the floor, resting her shoulders against the front of the sofa. The frame gave another small, protesting squeak at the jostling. She let her head fall back to rest against Albigard’s knees, and Len took a self-indulgent moment to appreciate how much the Fae asshole would hate that if he were awake.

“You’ve been following the news the last few days, I assume?” she asked.

Len looked briefly ceiling-ward before meeting her brown eyes incredulously. “What, you mean the part where every news outlet on the planet is running twenty-four-seven coverage about world leaders inexplicably dropping dead, and something mysterious happening at Stonehenge? Yeah, I might’ve seen a mention or two.”

In fact, Rans and Zorah had been neck-deep in that particular vat of crazy long before it spilled onto the world stage—as had Len’s vampire ex-boss, along with his ex-coworker Vonnie, whose kid had apparently been abducted by the Fae because of his magical bloodlines.

Meanwhile, Len had been stuck here in St. Louis while all of this was going down, receiving the occasional drip-feed of information via text or email and wondering whether these idiots he sometimes called friends were going to live or die when the Fae finally made their move to take full control of the planet.

He knew, deep down, that his life would be a whole lot easier these days if he could somehow train himself to stop giving a crap one way or the other.

“Yeah, okay, ” Zorah conceded. “I guess the news would be a bit hard to avoid under the circumstances. Anyway, we were at Stonehenge with a bunch of other protesters when the Fae showed up and the you-know-what hit the fan. You won’t have seen much about that part of things yet, I’m guessing, since all the magic flying around took out the communications grid across most of southern Britain. Suffice to say, there was a big fight. One of the Fae aimed a lethal blast of magic at Vonnie’s son, and Tinkerbell here jumped in front of it to save him.”

Len blinked, glancing down at the self-centered asshole on the couch. “Wait. Say that again?”

“Believe me,” said Rans. “We were as surprised as you are.”

Zorah glared at both of them. “You. Shut it,” she said, pointing at Rans. Then she looked up at Len. “And, look. I know you had an... unfortunate first meeting with him, but he’s helped us over and over against his own people, even if he does act like a bit of a dick about it most of the time. He’s a good friend, and right now he’s got a giant target painted on his back.”

Rans made a face like he’d tasted something sour. “Friend. You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.”

Len stared at him. “Oh, my god. Why am I not remotely surprised that you two communicate via the medium of Princess Bride quotes?”

Zorah shot him an unimpressed look. “We don’t. Normally, we communicate via the medium