Free The Sandman by Erin Kellison

done.”
    “I hate mercenaries,” Maisie said. “Friend of mine killed a mercenary here just the other day.” Since Sera had gone to help Steve, she was Maisie’s new best friend.
    Ivan’s unibrow went up. “Yet you want to hire me to protect this place?”
    “I don’t want to hire you.” Anyone who took appearances at face value, especially Darkside of all places, was not for her. Definitely not for Maze City.
    “Vivienne said you did.”
    Maisie cocked her big girlie head. “Viv was wrong.”
    Frankly, she wished Steve were here to talk the whole thing over with her. Because, well, bad guys. She’d been a courier for people like these, and she’d almost unknowingly killed a nice old man who’d been bundled up like a ham to be delivered to his untimely and gruesome demise. So, yeah, she was feeling a little conflicted. Was she just like them, after all? She’d kinda wanted to be good—good like Steve, good like Jordan—not the mayor of Bad Town.
    These were not the people she’d imagined inhabiting her city.
    “Actually,” Viv said, “I mentioned coming to an agreement regarding his services.”
    “Ah, okay,” Maisie said. “We agree not to use his services. He can mercenary himself on the Scrape with the nightmares.” To him, she said, “Thanks for playing.”
    She was so done with strange people in her city. Bullies, all of them. This was taking forever, and she’d never had much patience to begin with. Plus, she couldn’t wake and find out how Steve was doing until all the black market revelers were gone or else they’d just be dumped in the sand.
    “She’s a child ,” he said to Viv. “She can’t run this place.”
    “I built it,” Maisie said, though she knew he was goading her.
    “Not the same thing,” Ivan said. “And you should know the difference.”
    Viv held up a hand. “Maisie is indeed young. But she’s also extremely talented. I think you’ll find that she is more than capable of mastering this city.”
    “Not the people within it.”
    Enough, already. Maisie flicked her gaze behind him, and with a mental yank, she pulled the brick wall of the building outward to crush him. Wouldn’t kill him, necessarily.
    The crash was momentarily deafening. Gray dust rolled in clouds over the debris.
    “Missed me,” a snide male voice called.
    Confused, Maisie searched for the source.
    And dammit, Ivan stood to her left, some five meters down the road outside the coffeehouse, smirking.
    Teleportation. She’d heard of it, and in theory she understood that the distance between point A and point B meant nothing Darkside, but she hadn’t been able to teleport herself. Nevertheless, very cool. Too bad Ivan the Mercenary was not. Seemed he was testing her, or showing off, or trying to prove a point, all of which were rude considering he was a guest here.
    If anyone was going to prove a point, she was. Maisie glanced at Mirren over her shoulder.
    “My pleasure,” Mirren said.
    The pavement beneath Ivan’s feet dissolved into gold Scrape sand, glowing against the dark charcoal of the street, and Ivan sank ankle deep into it.
    “What the…?” he said.
    Maisie turned to Viv. “Yeah, this guy and me. We don’t get along.”
    Ivan fought the quicksand, which any child would know not to do. “Hey!” he growled. “Let me go, bitch! Now!”
    Viv inclined her head. “His teleportation could be very helpful.”
    Maisie put a finger to her chin as if pondering. “His helpful teleportation would be moot if I killed him out of frustration.”
    Waist-deep and clawing at the street before him, he splashed sand all around, creating golden rays, like a mini-sun, blazing on the ground.
    “Um.” Maisie gave Mirren a pained smile. “Just FYI? There’re monsters under my city.”
    “Come again?” Vince said, but his crazy-style grin was already half-cocked.
    “Before I had much dream control,” Maisie explained, “I may have made monsters. And then I couldn’t get rid of them, so I