Not My Fairytale

Chapter 13

**A/N: Don't Forget to Comment/Vote !

An Unexpected Enemy

"Are you nervous?"

I turned to find Franco standing beside me, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the small window. He wasn't looking at me though, his gaze was trained out the small gap between the blinds and the window pane, staring intently at the building across the street. He didn't look angry, I noted, though by all rights he should have after all of the trouble I had gone through to avoid him. Perhaps the raid would serve as a temporary truce. A small smile formed on my lips despite the tension in the room. I hoped so.

"No," I lied, tugging on the sleeve of my strange spelled uniform. Supposedly, I would grow accustomed to the ever-present caress of magic against my skin with time, but so far, I was not convinced.

He responded as if I hadn't spoken, "Yeah, me too."

I snorted, and he finally turned toward me, "You've never been afraid of anything in your life."

    "That's not true," he murmured, meeting my eyes for a moment before turning his attention on the rest of our group milling around the room in small clusters awaiting the signal to go. There were fifteen of us in total, including both of our fathers, all clad in the strange almost-leather of the spelled uniforms. "Besides, it would be foolish not to be a little nervous. This is our first contact with an enemy we know next to nothing about."

I only hummed my agreement, turning to gaze back out the little opening on my side of the window. The large shop across the street did not look any more sinister than any of the other boarded up buildings in this neighborhood, but I knew that somewhere inside were some of the men responsible for all of the dozens of human deaths over the past weeks. We had strict orders to subdue and capture as many of the Blood Fangs we encountered as we could, but if capture became impossible, to aim to kill. The bandolier of knives felt heavier against my chest than it had on the ride over that morning. I was distinctly aware of each individual metal hilt where they rested against my spelled clothing. I had never been in a real fight before, never had to use a weapon against another living being in a real life or death scenario. Suddenly, I wasn't sure if I had what it takes.

I shook the thought from my head, focusing back out to the darkened shop across from us. I tried to put faces to the enemy inside, tried to imagine plunging one of the knives at my chest into living flesh. I shivered.

We had been briefed on everything the reconnaissance team had uncovered when we first arrived, before we had all settled in to wait the day away. There were only a few people seen going in and out of the building, all of them sporting hoods drawn over their faces, but they were obviously preparing for something. We suspected it was a meeting of some kind. There was a very clear leader among the men in the shop, though in addition to the hood, he was never seen without a black mask shielding the entirety of his face from view. His capture would be the real prize of this raid. We could end the entire conflict in one day.

As the sun dipped in the sky and the shadows lengthened across the buildings around us, an uneasy feeling came over me. Though nothing had changed across the street or within our own run-down shop, I couldn't help but feel that something was very wrong. I tried to shake off the sensation to no avail.

The feeling still lingered two hours later, when my father gathered us all in the center of the room. "It's nearly time," he said somberly, "When we attack, I want several of you shifted, we might need the added speed."

The entire room seemed to nod in unison. "Gallo, Machi, Hawthorne, and Falco," he listed off, pointing a finger at each man in turn, "I want all of you shifted. Other than that, keep exactly to the plan we discussed earlier, and we should be in-and-out quickly. We will shift now, where they will not be able to hear it."