Free A Sliver of Shadow by Allison Pang Page A

fallen and I couldn’t quite help growling at it. After I’d first gotten out of the hospital two years ago, the seizures had been a more frequent occurrence, as were the injuries. Not counting the metal plate in my skull, I’d probably sprained both ankles and a wrist from falling because of the vertigo. It was a rare week when I didn’t get to show off the battle scars from losing a fight with the floor.
    Maybe that was the whole problem? Hanging out with the OtherFolk as much as I did, maybe I’d forgotten I was human and fragile comparatively. I sighed and combed through the tangled snarls of my hair, pushing the blue and pink streaked bangs out of my eyes. The mirror remained steamed up, but I still ran my fingertips over the scar above my left ear. I always did. It was a perverse little habit, but not one I seemed able to break.
    I shook out the rest of my hair so it fell over the bare patch, threw on a robe and stepped out of the bathroom. Cool air snuck past me to chill my legs. Something about the silence struck me as odd and I couldn’t quite put my fingeron it. The kitchen was dark except for the gleam of the appliances.
    Empty.
    It was the first time I’d had my apartment to myself in, what? Eight months? I sighed, reveling in the fact that once upon a time I could have trotted around naked and not had to worry about elves getting their hair stuck in the blow dryer, or finding a unicorn underfoot. Or an incubus. Or a baby.
    Out of habit I peeked into Benjamin’s room, my heart skipping a beat when I saw his crib was gone. I could only assume Talivar had done as I’d asked and taken the baby’s things over to Robert’s, but then I’d hardly given him the chance to tell me, had I? I leaned against the door, something in my heart twisting as my gaze roamed over the now-empty shadows. My ears strained to hear the soft sound of Benjamin’s breathing, and I rolled my eyes at myself.
    He was with his father and that would have to be good enough until we sorted this whole damn mess out. Suddenly ravenous, I fixed a bowl of nachos, complete with salsa, queso, and a heaping dollop of sour cream. After a moment I grabbed a bottle of Bushmills out of the pantry. I wasn’t usually a heavy drinker and it was never a good idea after a seizure, but after the shit that had gone down today I didn’t care.
    Settling in on the couch, I decided to really indulge and channel surfed until I found one of the anime channels, contenting myself for an hour of watching Alucard and Father Anderson shred each other into bloody bits. Eventually Talivar came home, clearly surprised that I was still awake at 3 A.M. I was nicely mellow, full of nacho goodness and half the bottle of whiskey, my head swimming with cartoon vampires and pleasant warmth. I patted the space next to me, shifting to make room as he eased himself down.
    “Real vampires don’t fight like that,” I observed smartly. He grunted an affirmation at me, and I glanced over. The light from the TV played over the sharp edges of his face, illuminating the straight bridge of his nose and the faded blue of the delicate tattoos upon his cheeks. There was a grace in the curve of his spine as he lounged on the sofa, his legs bent carelessly so his knees sprawled outward, one hand resting on his thigh. The callused tips of his fingers were those of a warrior, but the elegant slant of his knuckles was pure royalty. My gaze lingered on his mouth, the whiskey making my cheeks hot.
    On sudden impulse, I reached out to stroke the perfect seashell point of his ear. He stilled, silent except for a sudden intake of breath, his eye becoming languid and half lidded. The pulse at his neck jumped, ruining the effect.
    “You do realize that’s the elvish equivalent of cupping my balls, right?”
    I jerked my hand away. I hadn’t meant to be quite that forward. “Apparently my knowledge of basic elven anatomy is lacking,” I muttered. “Sorry.”
    He kept his face steadfast on the