“Human woman.” I point at the cashier. “Get out. Your boss is in trouble.” As the blonde with the dark fake tan and short, short skirt grabs her phone and scampers out to call to the cops, Xander scoffs again. “He says that like he’s not currently human.” Scythe, my brother by blood, says nothing and strides past me to the back of the shop, brushing at the shoulder of his crisp black designer shirt. Scythe has his quirks, and I have mine. But Xander is wrong. I haven’t been ‘human’ in a very long time. We both follow Scythe past the dressing rooms and through a curtain in the storage room.
