Free She Dies at the End (November Snow #1) by A. M. Manay

ourselves.  Imagine it, November: one day, you are human.  The next, you have to hunt humans in order to stay alive. Humans do the same thing: dehumanizing their enemies, and ignoring the suffering of the animals they use for food.  Any other humans we bring here are so enthralled that they have little memory of what happens to them.  Please, just be patient with my people, and try to forgive them if they offend you with their words.  They are going to need some time to get accustomed to you, as you will need to get accustomed to us.”
    November grew more and more nervous as William spoke, but she did understand probably more than most humans would.  She knew a little something about keeping oneself remote from the suffering of others in order to maintain one’s sanity.
    “What about fairies?  Do they feel the same way?” November asked, biting her lower lip.
    “It has always been easier for fairies to blend into human society,” Zinnia answered.  “We could wear a wig or dye our hair, live among them, and feed with a handshake or an embrace.  We don’t have to shed blood or lure our prey to a remote location in order to get a meal.  So, we don’t tend to see humans as quite so foreign, at least when we’re young.  The older we get, the more isolated we tend to be from the humans around us, especially when we mostly associate with vampires and other fairies.  The next youngest fairy in the house is almost 300 years old.  So, everyone finds me amusing,” she finished a bit sadly.  “They find me precious and naïve and overly emotional.”
    “Also refreshing and sweet,” William added with genuine affection.  It was obvious how fond he was of his bond niece.
    “Alright,” November said, trying to unclench her jaw.  “I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.  Let’s run the gauntlet.”   
    William tapped on the door of the library, and the members of his inner circle filed in and surrounded their unusual houseguest.
    “This is Greg, keeper of the exchequer,” William began, “and Savita’s son.”  Greg nodded at her, little interested, then turned his attention to the newspaper November had discarded.  He had been about 30 years old when he was turned, November guessed.  Dressed in a yellow shirt and designer khakis, he was a tall, slender African-American with close-cropped hair, a goatee, and heavy, black hipster glasses.  She wondered if a lot of vampires did that, wearing glasses to blend in.  It seemed like that would play well with accountants and bankers and stock brokers.
    “Birch, my lieutenant governor,” William continued.  This was the man she had glimpsed earlier in the office, the one with tight lime-green curls and skin the color of good earth.  Birch gave her a searching look when he was introduced, as though trying to find something wrong with her.  Another skeptic, perhaps.  He looked like one who rarely smiled.
    Lord William continued the introductions, and November tried to focus on learning the names.  Felix, Megan, and Daniel were described as knights serving the household along with the fairies Willow and Pine, so she pegged them as the security personnel Zinnia had mentioned.  November wondered what their actual duties were.  Whom were they trying to keep out?  Or in?  Did they make arrests?  Fight battles?  All five knights looked to be in their mid-twenties, but of course, November had no idea of their actual ages.  They looked her carefully up and down in an almost clinical fashion.  November didn’t know if they were evaluating her as a threat or as a meal.  Willow was quite fair, with shockingly purple eyes to match her hair, compared to which Pine’s light brown skin and amber hair and eyes seemed much more sedate.
    A tiny Asian-American vampire named Amy was the Lord Prosecutor, dressed to the nines from her spike heels to her perfectly coiffed hair.  Her counterpart, the Defense Advocate, was a tall, dark, and handsome vampire