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Luc Zelsor and the Complimentary Mix of Shadows and Ice Cream

So, this was his destiny, then. To destroy a three-legged guard dog from the inside out and to commandeer a new home. It wasn't an impossible task. It wasn't even a difficult task, really. Luc had undone more fairy minds than he could count. It was how he knew it was rarely one great, terrible event that sent a mind into chaos. It was an accumulation of small, agonizing things, over and over, that typically drove a fae mad.

Luc smiled bitterly. He may even find it enjoyable to become the monster he was raised to be.

He tousled his beautiful rosy hair as he gazed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He did a quick brush of his teeth for pleasure, too, and then popped into his room to fetch his black dandelion-peppered coat.

His room.

He'd slept in all kinds of forgotten, abandoned places in his long months hiding in the human realm. He'd dozed off on park benches, fallen asleep below trees, curled up in the corners of rundown buildings. He never expected he would be the unfortunate sort to have to search for a place to sleep, but even so, it was better than the alternative.

It was better than going back .

Luc headed out of the apartment and down the stairs, pushing out the doors at the same time as he pushed all thoughts of the Dark Corner from his mind. The late afternoon sun hung heavily in the navy-grey sky. He looked both ways, trying to determine the direction of the ice cream shop from his new location.

It was a relief the miserable North Fairy, Dranian , had left. Luc needed time to let his choices settle in. He needed to truly decide if he could bear being in the presence of Mor's ally. And he needed to weigh the odds of that mumbling, scowling fool telling Mor or Cressica Alabastian about Luc's existence.

His hand grazed over his chest where his fox tails hid below his shirt and coat. The five he had left.

"Why can't I be rid of you, Trisencor?" he asked the wind with a huff as he slipped into it.

It took him six seconds of airslipping and following his nose to find the ice cream shop. There was no line when he caught himself gracefully on his feet, so he walked right up to the window. He knocked on it, and a teenage girl with a pinking nose slid the window open and leaned out to meet him.

"You're back again," she said. As if Luc didn't already know.

"I'll be back tomorrow, too," he promised, flashing her his dangerously magnetic smile.

She swooned a little, her cheeks flushing. "Well, today's our last day open," she said with a giggle, and Luc's smile fell. "We close every fall. We open again in the spring," she added.

Luc nearly staggered back a step.

"So, I guess this is the last time I get to serve you ice cream. You're our most dedicated customer, so your cone today will be on the house," she went on as though she hadn't just spoken words that brought Luc's entire world crumbling down. "Same flavour as yesterday? Strawberry?"

Luc nodded, but he couldn't find any pretty words or lovely thoughts to thank her with today. She disappeared into the shop, and he stood on his tiptoes to watch his ice cream being scooped.

It was a big, divine heap of glorious pink magic when she brought it back. His smile returned. She'd given him an extra scoop.

"Here you go!" the girl said. "Enjoy! We'll see you in the spring!" She waved as she handed him the ice cream cone. A second later, she slid the window closed upon all his hopes and dreams.

"Oh dear," Luc sighed. What would he do without this shop to visit every day? This shop was the reason he continued to sneak back into the downtown area he swore he'd never return to. The ice cream had been worth the risk.

He took a large bite of his strawberry treat and moaned at the taste he would miss all season until the shop's triumphant return. Closing down felt like a great crime. Had the shop been in the Ever Corners, he might have done some wicked scheming to ensure the owners weren't allowed to close their doors to him. He might have purchased the place with gold. He might have forced the owner to reveal his name and enslaved him to make ice cream forever without stopping. He might have done worse things.

But, alas, the human species were a different sort. Violent still, at times, but far less tricky, and therefore, fairy meddling often made crowds too curious.

He ran his tongue around the full brim of the cone to catch the drips as he ventured down the street, ducking around passing couples and one particularly motivated jogger. Humans tended to be chatty, he'd learned; they all walked in groups, deep in discussion, talking about boring things that didn't matter. None of them paid Luc any attention as he headed deeper into the alleys of bustling shops and down fresh sidewalks. He took a glance at the sun and mumbled a curse at it. He'd been so pleased to see it shining this morning when he thought its glow was promising a good day ahead.

It had lied. The sun was a liar .

He took a large bite of his ice cream to make himself feel better, and he swept around the bend—

He tore himself back.

Luc's shoulders pressed flat against a brick wall.He found his hands were shaking, gripping his cone, cracking the sugary shell. Pink cream dripped down his fingers. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It wasn't nerves, it was likely anger. Also, it was probably calculation. And possibly panic.

Alright, it was nerves.

His fox heart didn't settle, even when he closed his eyes and inhaled, exhaled, inhaled again. When he peeled his eyes open, he inched toward the edge of the wall, carefully peering around with just one silver eye.

Two fairies stood in the street. Fairies with elongated, pointed ears, coated in the smell of ash and darkness, with eye colours that could only be made by magic. For a split second, Luc forgot about his ice cream.

He bit down on a curse as he took off down the alley, hurrying in the opposite direction, too worried about the popping sound that would follow him to airslip. But even as he darted in and out of crowded spaces, never looking back, never stopping, he could not unsee the black pearl armour the Shadows had been wearing.

It seemed the Army had returned.

They were back for answers.

Back for him , certainly.

It wasn't until he was four buildings away that Luc allowed himself to slip into a store, and as he passed through the doorway he became one with the air.

He never should have gone near downtown. He had caused a mess for the Shadow Army, and now they were out for his blood. This was the first season he hadn't checked in with them at their designated meeting place. It was the first time he had refused to fulfill his role as the liaison for the Dark Queene. The first time they were allowed to abandon all concern for whose son he was.

It was the first time he'd ever truly felt he belonged to no one. And he was desperate to keep it that way.

Luc dropped onto the sidewalk in front of his new apartment building. His fingers felt wet. He glanced over to see that by some ancient fairy miracle, his ice cream was still intact. He quickly licked up all the drips as he punched the secret code into the keypad and pushed his way in through the doors. He airslipped up the stairs. He could have airslipped right back into his apartment, but he wasn't sure if the North Fairy was back. He imagined he might get stabbed if he appeared before the one-armed assassin without warning.

Luc appeared at the end of his hall and made his way to 3E with thoughts of murder on his mind.

He thought the Army would have stopped looking for him after he'd disappeared without a trace the day he exacted his revenge on Mor.

Would he truly have to kill them all? Every last fairy of his division? Is that truly what it would take?

He would do it. He would end them all, one by one, if they did not cease their search. His fox bead felt heavy and eager in his pocket.

"Oh dear," he muttered as he yanked out his key and let himself into his new home.

The North Fairy was nowhere to be found. Luc still tiptoed in, peering around every corner, eyeing every shadow and movement out the window as darkness fell upon the city. Only time would tell if Dranian had babbled of Luc's existence to Mor. Though, if Mor knew Luc was here, he would have already shown himself.

Luc's shoulders relaxed as he thought about that. He nodded to himself. No one was in this apartment. No one was waiting to spring out of the cracks and stab him clean through the heart.

No, Trisencor couldn't possibly have known yet.

It seemed his devious little comments to Dranian had worked.

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