The Hero and the Hidden Royal - Renae Kaye Page 0,2
for the first time on a cold, rainy Thursday night. The streets were darker than usual and the rain muted the sounds of the city. The falling rain made it imperative that Derek take the short-cut through the dark side streets in order to get home. He’d forgotten the time, caught up in his work, and left two hours later than usual. For Derek, it was better and worse—better because there weren’t so many people around, but worse because the empty streets were sort of spooky. This section of Dulibre was a labyrinth of small one-way streets and Derek wished he’d called his friend, Francois, with some excuse and asked them to walk home with him. Francois was a supo who worked at the Municipal, too—Francois’s power of telekinesis was weak and only worked in a range of less than five meters. But Derek hadn’t wanted to bother Francois, and now he was paying the price. With trepidation he looked down at his wrist. It was appearing and reappearing, evidence of Derek’s fluctuating bravery. So far his clothes had remained visible, which helped if he did happen to come across another person on the road—they knew to avoid him. Being hit from behind by bicycle couriers was painful and embarrassing.
As he approached the narrow lane he deliberately gave full rein to his anxieties—what if there were a mugger down that alley? What if there were a rabid dog? What if the cops were down there waiting for someone to plant drugs on so they could up their arrest tally? Looking down, he watched as his coat appeared to shimmer and fade completely from sight. Now he just had to hope that no car came screaming down the street and hit him while he was completely invisible. Walking the lane completely invisible was preferable to any other option Derek had.
The side-street wasn’t that long and serviced the few shops that had the main-street frontages, two restaurants, and that place with the blacked-out windows and thumping bass music on Saturday nights. Off the lane to the left was a small alley that led to the back door of the blacked-out-window place, the jewelers, a café that closed by six in the evening, the clothing alteration store, and a picture framing place. Directly opposite was the slightly larger alley giving rear access to the restaurants. The bins from that alley always smelled terrible and there was usually someone hanging around, grabbing a quick cigarette. But despite the smell, that side of the lane was preferable to the side where people from the blacked-out window place sometimes took their breaks.
Derek hugged the wall to the right and tried to avoid the bigger puddles. Invisible shoes still got wet. He tried to hurry while not rushing so fast that he would miss the danger coming at him. Danger like—
He skidded to a stop when a body dressed in dark clothing came tumbling out of the alley to the left. Derek had to hold back a gasp of fright. The man picked himself off the ground and ran back to the alley, and it occurred to Derek that the man hadn’t tumbled out of the alley so much as been thrown out. A loud clatter and a shout of pain gave clues to the cause. Somewhere up that alley a fight was going on.
Scared so much that the pavement under his feet began to shimmer, Derek nonetheless had to look to see what was going on. He reassured himself that he was invisible and in no danger, but even so he could feel his hands trembling. Feel, because no one could see him at all—not even himself. More cries of pain and a thump like a body being thrown against a wall propelled Derek forward to peek around the corner. He would see what was happening, then run like crazy to call the police, he decided. The police wouldn’t take him seriously if he said he heard sounds of what seemed like a fight. He needed to see how many people and who was in danger.
On wobbly legs he stepped forward and looked around the corner. A small light shone from above one of the doors up the alley, so he spotted the ruckus immediately—three figures in dark clothes grappling with one larger figure dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt. There were kicks and punches galore, and it looked like the bigger man was taking a decent beating, but he was still standing, and even