She had such pretty hair. Golden streaks flashed across chestnut tresses as each streetlight blipped past the trundling bus’s dusty windows. The way her head lolled on his shoulder. He wasn’t nice looking at all. Tattoos of crumpled leaves, strangely morphed hearts, all kinds of knives, and sad, faded blackish blue stars slithered up from his neck to speckle over his craggy, unshaven face. Thankfully, his cold, dark eyes, black-ringed and inset, were closed under eyelids, twitching at whatever violent dream slipped through his mind.

But she had the soft but narrow face of an angel. Glossy pink lips fluttering as she slept—no violent dreams for her. Beneath his flopping arm, her lithe form, so much smaller than his, in a yellow flower-print sundress, crumpled against his filthy, dark-stained army jacket.

Mismatched. A tale so old.

As a lengthy exhale slipped from her lips, Mi leaned back against the once-soft backrest and let the rumbling relax her. Or try to relax her. Iakovos had been clear. Find a place. Make it your own, but be nicer. With a sigh and a swift roll of her lips, she again scanned the couple in the worn navy-black cushioned seat across the dingy, tattered, blue carpeted aisle from her.

Nicer? No good could come from her staying with him. It was obvious. The angel’s parents, if she even had any, would’ve warned her. Her friends, again if she’d had any, would’ve done the same. Yet, here she was, in that gorilla’s grip. Should Mi “help” her? Was that being nice? Or should she roll on into obscurity, locate that out-of-the-way place and...

“Do what?” She mumbled as she rolled her head to look out through the dirt smeared with finger—and nose—smudges at the endless open darkness beyond the glass. “What can I do, Iakovos? Find people, you’d said.” She turned back to the angel when she shifted, murmuring in her sleep.

The gorilla would never stand a chance. At the next stop, assuming they weren’t leaving the bus for good, Mi could follow him into the bathroom and fuck him. Drag him by his probably tattooed cock into the hallway and suck him clean before the angel. Prove a point. Drive her from him. To save her. Did that count, Iakovos? Because if Mi didn’t do that in front of her, he’d do it with somebody else behind the angel’s back. Or already was doing that.

With a sigh, she turned from them and coiled tighter under the threadbare gray blanket, too short to block the chilly air sliding around her bare legs. At least the rough wool smelled clean. With a grunt, she shifted once more and curled them up on the seat before snuggling and closing her eyes.

No. The angel must fight her own battle—one day. Though she’d probably lose. If Mi got involved, it would go public. And Iakovos wouldn’t like that. More importantly, “they” could find her. And she didn’t need the court—her mother—anymore. She’d be just fine.

At least that’s what Mi thought back then. On that long, winding bus ride to her destiny.

Because, Fae or not, the gods found her amusing, and they were already laughing.

As soon as the bus pulled to a screeching halt before a grimy, worn-down, dirt-streaked brown brick building that housed the terminal, the groggy passengers headed out. Mi stood and stretched before joining the shuffling line. Just prior to slipping from the blanket, she’d called skinny black jeans and glossy ebon stilettos, tall and sharp-heeled. She loved the loud clacking sound they made; the way it drew attention to her slender form as she glided through this hungry world. On her chest, she now wore a fluffy bright pink sweater that enhanced her smaller chest. Mi suppressed a grin; she could make her tits larger, but she enjoyed the little jiggle as they moved and the tighter nipples kept her—happy.

Once outside in the brisk chilly air, Gorilla halted midway across the cracked asphalt to check his phone. It had a flaming orange skull on the case, because of course it would. Tumbling old newspaper and garbage skittered along the puddled-covered lot in a rising, chilly breeze. Skirt whipping around her toned legs, Angel headed inside, followed by two elderly women and a man dragging a yawning boy by the hand. Hopefully, his son.

As Mi clacked past Gorilla, he glanced up and tracked her motions, as she’d expected. She paid him no mind and strode into the tired-looking but brightly lit building. Rows of cracked and stained yellow plastic chairs filled the room. The rhythmic click-clacking of her heels brought more attention as Mi moved across the yellowish linoleum. Her grin widened, and she held a few sidelong glances before spotting Angel and the women heading for the hallway labeled “Restrooms.”

For the briefest of moments, the grin disappeared as Mi debated once more, before setting her shoulders. After a quick glance back through the dirty pane of glass, catching Gorilla grimacing at his phone, she sighed and balled her fists.

“Sorry, Iakovos, I have to try,” she murmured before turning towards the dimly lit hall.

Once inside, she rounded the corner to find the bathrooms, and a door labeled “Janitor.” When she tried the handle and it opened to reveal a small room with shelves of cleaning materials and a large gray plastic wash basin, her grin returned. After closing the door, she leaned against the grimy yellow-gray brick hallway wall beside it to wait. A strange calm descended upon her as Mi rolled her lips and slowed her breathing.

One of the elderly women shuffled out and waddled past with barely a glance. The other soon followed, wiping her shiny palms along the side of her out-of-style, ill-fitting dress. She at least smiled, though it was a taut and sad attempt. Mi smiled back, then swallowed when Angel appeared.

Wow! Angel had the most gorgeous bright green eyes. As she held in a sigh, every muscle in Mi’s petite body vibrated.

With her long chestnut mane now neatly brushed behind her and face gleaming, the young woman, smelling of soap—industrial soap—started past Mi; she deserved better. Her pretty, emerald eyes were clouded and the tiniest shudder wrinkled through her chin. Angel’s breath hitched, and she jolted when Mi clasped her shoulder and pulled her towards the janitorial door with one hand while shoving the door wide with the other.

Fae were strong. Yet, Angel, her wide eyes sparkling, resisted only for a brief second before letting Mi drag her inside. Once Mi had her in the room, she pushed the door shut and released Angel.

“Who—” Angel started, but Mi placed one long digit across Angel’s full red lips. So soft.

“I’m not going to harm you. I’m not going to ever force you to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m going to ask you one question. Okay?”

Angel gave a slow nod, rubbing her silken lips along Mi’s finger; little shivers rippled along Mi’s—core.

“Who do you wish to travel with, me or your gorilla man?” After the query, Mi pressed against Angel’s magnificent lips, because why not, before pulling her digit away.

At first, Angel remained silent, rolling those pretty lips and glancing at the door. But she made no move to escape and looked back at Mi with a sigh.

“He’ll kill me.”

“No. No, he won’t. Of that, you can be assured.” God; Mi held in a grimace. She sounded just like her mother, sometimes.

After a tilt of her head, Angel gazed at her, raising an eyebrow, before giving Mi’s sleek body a brief once-over. When her emerald pools returned to Mi, she let out a long puff of air as her shoulders sagged.

Mi didn’t wait for the verbal response.

“Fine. You’re with me now.”

Mi shoved open the door and marched from the little room, followed by Angel. Once they’d stepped from the terminal, she gave Angel, striding to keep up, a quick glance and a smile before marching to Gorilla. Already lifting his head at the echoing click-clacks of her heels, he cocked his head when Mi halted before him and stared up into his grizzled, crumpled-chinned face.

“There’s two things you need to know,” Mi said as she placed a dainty fingertip against the center of his dented and tattooed forehead.

As his eyes widened and he recoiled, she pressed into the faded skull with knife thing on his skin and smiled—it wasn’t a pleasant smile. Something else she’d learned from her mother.

“One. She’s mine now.” When he glanced at Angel, Mi glared at Gorilla to ensure his smaller brain understood. “And two. Should you be so stupid as to try anything to harm her, or me, you will die.” Though he didn’t react, Angel gasped. “Do you understand?”

When he nodded, Mi lifted her finger, letting his head rock forward before turning for the bus. Angel was silent as they climbed back up the torn rubber-lined steps and headed towards their original seat. Mi slowed while Angel yanked her little brown and yellow cloth pack from the overhead space before following Mi further into the cabin. If Gorilla chose to become stupid, Mi wanted to be able to see him coming.

Once they’d settled under a blanket, they waited for the other passengers, including Gorilla, to board and take their seats before the bus began to move again. Gorilla wasn’t stupid. In fact, he didn’t look back at them at all; he just closed his eyes and appeared to sleep. With a sigh, Mi snuggled closer to Angel as the bus rumbled back onto the bumpy, now rain-beaten highway. Such a grandiose designation. The winding, two-lane, cracked asphalt strip was a “highway” simply because of its map label.

At first Angel only tensed when Mi’s hand slid over the sundress, heading for the first wide round button at her neck, but when Mi’s fingers tightened and twisted it, she came alive with a gasp. Angel shot her sharp-nailed fingers out to grip Mi’s wrist.

“I’m, uh ... I’m not into women.”

After rolling her wrist to run her fingernails along the underside of Angel’s shaking forearm, Mi grinned into those sparkling green eyes and ran her tongue under Angel’s jaw. By the time she’d licked past her chin, it was quivering. Humans were so delectably cute. And the faint taste of fresh salty sweat had Mi’s nerves fizzling.

“Have you ever tried?” She said before placing her lips against the soft skin of Angel’s cheek.

“No.” Angel replied before swallowing.

With her brilliant emerald pools trying to track Mi, who dragged her lips along Angel’s silken cheek, she didn’t move her face away. Each gentle drag of Mi’s nails against the skin of her quivering forearm sent Angel’s delicate fingers twitching against Mi’s wrist.

When Mi opened the first button, air hissed from Angel’s shiny parted lips; her eyes found and stayed locked on Mi’s as the second button parted, and her dress pulled wide under the pressure of her little tits.

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Mi Finds A Home

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