by Chris Bannor
She held the knife between her teeth, hands buried second knuckle deep into the beating heart of her prey. In the deep of the woods, no one remembered to look for her kind anymore. They were easy prey, especially when they saw her diminutive size.
She might be no taller than a human child, but she was no innocent. When the others came into her sidhe, they learned. The fae may be small, but her bite was ferocious, and her tastes were bloody.
She drank, the hot splash of copper racing over her tongue was welcome after her well-won fight.