GENRE: Urban fantasy
I placed the pistol on my kitchen counter, the bullet still chambered, knowing it would await my return. Unless I found the resolve to blow my head off in the next sixty seconds, I needed to get going. I had an appointment to keep.
The autumn air was crisp, so I pulled on my jacket and headed up Fifth Avenue toward the University. During excursions such as these, I hoped that I would be waylaid by a group of thugs or a fool bent on thievery; I missed the challenge of real battle, the intimacy of flesh crashing into flesh.
But no one ever bothered me.
I resigned myself to studying the buildings that hunched together along the street. Thick black power cables snaked in and out of crumbling brick apartments like intravenous lines, and tree roots warped the sidewalk into a disjointed series of stepping-stones.
It was already clear that I couldn't live the way I had on Tresyllian; I couldn't expect anyone to pay me in room and board while I hunted down murderers, rapists, and renegade magic-users with a broadsword. Hell, I couldn't expect anyone to even believe that was how I'd lived for the last five years. I needed a dependable income, a bank account, credit cards, transportation, and identification.