FicWad

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the following fanfiction, except for Eddy. Pretty much it's all property of Laurell K. Hamilton and I am simply entertaining my own fantasies(in the mildest sense).



Chapter One



The full moon loomed high in the vast indigo of night. The stars twinkled dimly behind the blaring lights of downtown New York. A sad brick structure squatted between what appeared to be two condemned apartment buildings. Inside, a woman leaned back in an old leather office chair, her high-heel boots stretched on the worn desk with faded black paint. She flipped the pages of her magazine idly, meanwhile balancing a cigarette between chapped lips. There was a knock at the door.

Her dark eyes flitted up from the flimsy pages in her hand and stared through the foggy glass window on the door. All she could see was "E. AVALON, P.I." spelled backwards and a big shadow that looked vaguely like a human being. Without her permission, the door came open on its own. In walked a man, or what seemed like a man, in the cover of darkness.

As she saw that he was not a man at all, but something better. It had been years since she had last seen him, but he had the kind of appearance that you couldn't. His hair was the blackest black she'd ever seen, but tonight he had it hidden in a bun tucked into a fedora on the top of his head. He was attempting to disguise himself as a human. He was real tall, over six feet, and his skin was white enough to make the moon envious. It was white enough to make her envious. Things like her couldn't get skin as nice as things like this guy, but a dim imitation.

He wore the nicest suit you've ever seen, all black and shiny. Made his skin glow. He was supernaturally handsome, like he had walked right out of a fairytale, except he had probably stopped to buy an Armani suit on the way.

She took her feet down off the desk, tucked the magazine into a drawer, and put out the cigarette on her thigh.

"And how are we doing this evening, Prince Cel?" Her voice was husky, not the kind of deep you'd normally hear from a girl her size.

As he stepped into the light, she happened to notice his strong jaws were clenched. His knuckles were white around a rolled up newspaper. He leaned on the desk and looked her in the eyes.

"I've got a job for you," he growled.

She smiled pleasantly. "Just tell me who, how, and how much."

He slapped anewspaper on the desk. In huge, bold letters read the headline, "SIDHE PRINCESS TO BECOME QUEEN." Below was a picture of the ever-popular Princes Meredith, in aforest green business suit and her fantastically red hair down in curls. She was seated before a microphone at a press conference. Five of her royal guard stood around her.

All of the guards were different shapes, sizes, and colors: To her extreme left was a guard that had hair the yellow of sunlight, with golden eyes to match; a man with longer grey hair and dark eyes stood beside him; at the Princess's shoulder was aslender man who had faintly green skin and a darker shade for his hair; at her right shoulder was a guard with broad shoulders, standing tall and confident, as if he were a statue carved of ebony; but the guard who stood out the most to her was the one on the far right, not just because he was the shortest of the guards but his beauty seemed tainted by the eye patch and flurry of scars on his face.

For the last year or so, the tabloids had been following up on the sidhe princess's journey to finding a fianc