Lillim Callina, Tome 3: Fairy Tale

Chapter 1

The “No Accidents Since 1908” sign crashed into my front door, narrowly missing me as I leapt to the side and slammed haphazardly into the remains of my blackened husk of a couch. I tucked my body into a roll that left me covered in ash and debris and came up on my feet, fists raised in a fighting stance. The only thing that greeted me was the burned out shell of my apartment.

The beam the sign had been attached to creaked and groaned. I grimaced as it broke free of the ceiling and smashed into what was left of the bathroom wall, tearing a sky-light-sized hole in the ceiling.

“That’s it,” I growled. “It’s time to punch the Fairy Queen in the face.”

Just because she was like four inches tall and all sparkly, didn’t mean she could ignore a job she agreed to do. Since I’d contacted the pint-sized pixie to rebuild my apartment three weeks ago, I’ve been randomly dropping in to see what progress they’ve made. The short answer? None. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

I glanced at the safety sign impaled in my front door. “Well, they’ve hung a sign, that’s progress right?” I asked no one in particular because the place was empty, again.

So far, I hadn’t managed to catch them working even once. Every single time I called, the line just rang and rang or went straight to a voicemail that was full. How voicemail boxes even got full nowadays was completely beyond me.

I sighed and tapped at the device on my wrist. It glowed with soft white light, humming like one of those portable, electric fans people carry around on hot days. Just like that the scene around me melted away.

Sunlight streamed through the window to my left, hitting me square in the face. I glared at the window and flopped onto my borrowed bed, annoyed. Originally, I’d thought I’d chosen a poor place for my bed, but all of the beds were arranged so that sunlight always streamed into your face after first light which was at some stupid hour like before noon. I firmly believed that the sun did not come out until well after mid-day.

I grumbled and rolled onto my bed, stripping off my clothes in the process. It was like trying to get comfortable on cement. I bunched my pillow around my head and tried to ignore the relentless rays of sunlight determined to keep me awake, despite the fact I was out fighting monsters all night.

This was part of the reason I was so angry at the damn fairies. Since my apartment had been thoroughly destroyed when Grollshanks threw a car through my front door three weeks ago, I was staying with my mother. This sounded worse than it was.