Chapter 1

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Empire had been calling again, every night in the darkness, the middle of my dreams, Empire had been calling. I could feel it tickling my bones and making my skin itch with phantom desire to return home.

I was thinking about it during my morning commute when I bumped into somebody out of the blue.

"Get the hell out of my way," the woman snarled as she shoved my shoulder, hard.

I was knocked back a step and thought about swinging, but decided against it. Starting a brawl on the Broadway Sky Train platform in the middle of morning rush hour wouldn't be the smartest decision I'd ever made. It was crowded and everybody was already moody enough as it was.

"Sorry," I mumbled and kept moving off the train, turning to glare at her as she took her seat and the doors closed.

For a moment she looked shocked, as if seeing me for the first time, then she glowered back and flipped me the bird as the train glided away with its characteristic hiss.

That was weird. Normally Empire magic kept people from noticing me. In crowds, they'd part and let me pass without thinking. If they felt aggression in my vicinity, it was generally dissipated as a sneeze or sometimes a loud fart.

I shrugged and chalked it up to her having fae blood or something in her ancestry that allowed her to peer through the glyph I kept tightly wrapped around me at all times during my morning commute...and most of the time when I moved through the city. Unless I was drinking and diving into a mosh pit at a punk show, that's when I wanted people to slam into me. It was part of the fun.

I sighed, adjusted my leather jacket and smoothed back my thick, wavy black hair. I had it stretched flat back into a ponytail today, but stray strands kept escaping and tickling me across my nose.

That was unusual, too. Empire magic handled the petty, annoying shit like that in general. Overall, Empire magic kept me going, kept me free of illness — even hangovers, thank goddess — and it delayed my aging significantly. As an added bonus, the magic made it seem like I had my shit together at all times. Even if I didn't. And let me tell you, I really didn't. I felt like I was a perpetual eighteen year old stuck in the life of a grown up with adult responsibilities and trapped by all the boring shit I had to do, like work and pay rent. Why had I ever run away to the city and yearned to grow up?

I took the stairs down to street level and joined the flow of people heading along Commercial to my second job, barista extraordinaire for Drive Coffee House. I worked it during my off hours as a bartender at a punk club in Gastown. In both places, I swear they had hired me because I could handle rowdy customers and give them a toss out the door if need be. Sometimes the morning coffee crowd was scarier than the punk crowd, to my surprise. But I guess, like the punks, our customers were looking for something fast and easy to get their heart rate going, helping them limp through their lives.

As I walked along the sidewalk, dodging people who kept bumping into me, my leather jacket kept getting caught on my legs and was constantly clinging to my thighs and knees in the most annoying way. It had never done that before, not since I'd been lucky enough to find it on a rack in the back of Value Village with a twenty-dollar price sticker on it.

My friends at the time had all exclaimed loudly as they'd recognized my good fortune.

That was Empire magic, though. Good luck and aiding with life, making everything easier for the one carrying the bond. It was supposed to be part of the bargain for us committing to holding the portal on Empire Island open and secure in exchange for all the luck and health we'd ever want.

Normally it was a good bargain, but today it was failing.

I cruised into work three minutes late, still pondering the bump on the Sky Train platform as well as the hair, the jacket and the crowds. I was deep in my thoughts when I stumbled on the rug next to the counter, having to grip the cup stand to avoid falling face first in front of a lineup of customers.

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