Page 12

Chapter

Twelve

S tripes had pink and yellow striped hair that matched her pants perfectly, except instead of stripes, it was a floral print.

She took one look at me and then at Rynne skeptically. “You paying?”

Rynne looked from me to her. “Yeah, so stay cheap, and it’s for her, not me. Can you make her alluring to a werewolf who wears a fedora in the woods?”

Stripes gave me a long look that took me in from head to toe. “Yes,” she finally said and then headed towards the racks like she was on a heroic mission.

Ten minutes later, I was dressed in a purple sequin dress that was barely more fabric than the towel. Also, it clung to me in the weirdest way, like there were curves to cling to. After that, Rynne took me to the Sing police station where she argued with a gray-haired man until she was able to get me in to see the dangerous criminal with fairy blood.

Happily, I was able to read his thoughts. Unhappily, well, I was in the head of a psychopath. It was not fun. But the fact that he’d hidden children and was doing terrible things to them, experimenting, things like that, made it worth it. After I told Rynne everything, she gave me a big hug and a handful of bills before sending me off in a cab to the nearest werewolf bar, to find Max’s beast, and convince him to fund Shotglass’s hat shop through their mutual love for the accessory.

The bar was loud, with a lot of people on a stage in bright blingy clothing, singing and playing instruments. Pianos, saxophones, clarinet…lots of noise. People were coming in, crowding around the stage and cheering for the woman in front who was singing some song about a paper moon. I didn’t feel entirely out of place in my small, sparkly dress. I guess Rynne knew what she was talking about.

I looked around, but in spite of how popular it was, I didn’t see Max. I went to the counter and looked around, then pulled out my phone, pushed the button, and stared at the picture of his face that I was supposed to touch if I wanted him. How could I admit that I wanted him?

“Can I get you something to drink?” the bartender asked. She had dark skin and intense eyes that stared into me while drying a glass without leaving any streaks.

“What do you have?” I asked, looking up at the board to see if I could puzzle out any more words.

“King Crown light drinks, the whole collection, as well as your generic whiskey, brandy, cognac, beer, organic, big brand, everything in between, champagne, schnapps, peach, mint, cinnamon…”

I raised my hand. “Peach? I’ll take peach, thank you.” I still had some bills left over from the taxi ride to buy something.

She stared at me. “Okay. This isn’t a place fairies usually frequent. What brings you to the Dog’s Breath?”

Was that its name? How hilarious. “I’m looking for the alpha. I thought he’d be here. This is the most popular werewolf club that all the wolves go to.”

“Max? You’re looking for Max in a bar? He doesn’t go to bars.”

My heart fell. And I’d thought that I was being so clever, hunting him down when I had no idea where he went when he wasn’t with me. “Oh. All right. I’ll walk over to the warehouse after my drink.”

She still looked skeptical, but she unscrewed a bottle and poured me a glass that smelled delightfully of peaches.

It tasted more like fire and acid, but in an exciting way that also made my vision blurry. I was staring at the picture of Max on my phone while my aching heart throbbed in my chest when a female sat down on my left. She bumped my elbow, making my drink slosh onto the phone.

I frowned at her. “Be careful.” I flinched when I realized that the towel werewolf from earlier was smiling at me, wearing a dress that made mine look positively tame. It was also painfully hot pink.

“Oh, I am,” she said with a cruel smile. She’d bumped me on purpose. Of course she had. How would a queen deal with this kind of conflict? She wouldn’t have come to a werewolf bar in the first place.

I cleared my throat. “What do you want?” I finally asked. She hadn’t sat next to me by accident. Maybe we could clear up our differences and part in peace.

She bared her teeth at me. “He doesn’t care that you’re making a fool out of him, but I do. Stop toying with the Alpha.”

I blinked at her. “I don’t know what you’re?—”

“You aren’t going to stay here in his world. You’re slumming it until you get bored and go back to your pretty prince. I know your kind.”

“Pretty prince?”

“Fairy boy, tall, blonde, with enough muscle to tempt even a werewolf. And so pretty. Almost makes your eyes burn, he’s so pretty.”

She was talking about Vervain. There was no other person she could mean. “How do you know the fairy boy?”

“I’ve seen him in the city, heard him asking about you. The alpha’s been fun, I’m sure, but it was never meant to last. Go back to your own kind.” She left, once again bumping me, but that time I was ready and didn’t let her spill my drink.

I was alone for two minutes, my stomach tying itself in knots at the thought of Vervain coming here to tell me how irresponsible I was to run away from my duty. I didn’t take the lady’s comments about me and Max seriously. Obviously. I mean, I was soaking up his strength, using him in that way, but he didn’t consider me some kind of…I looked around, trying to think of the right word. That couple there, smiling at each other, all coy and adorable, the way she brushed his chest, and he touched her hand. That was flirting. We weren’t flirting. He was sponsoring me. That was the word. Of course I was going back to Fairyland. As soon as I’d finished the terraform, and found out who the poisoner was.

Max sat down next to me, his scent spicy and rich, delicious in so many ways, making me want to taste him. That couple in the shadows were tasting each other. They weren’t the only people there. Making out. That’s what that meant.

“Princess Sparkles.”

I smiled brightly. “Literally today. Do you like my dress? I should say, does your beast like my dress?” I winked at him very badly. “I’d like to ask him personally.” I winked again, only I did it with both eyes instead of one. Blinking was its own challenge. Maybe the peaches drink was making me weird. I needed to get his beast to fund a hat shop before I got any more ridiculously tangled with a werewolf.

He studied me, his eyes drifting down to take in my sequin dress. “Very sparkly. You shouldn’t joke about wanting my beast.”

I put my hand on his arm, feeling the connection right away. “I’m not joking. I need to talk to your beast about a very delicate subject.”

“Delicate? Beasts aren’t delicate. Anyway, I am my beast. Tell me.” He gave me an intent look that made my skin prickle.

I pulled my hand back and shook my head. “No way. You’re nothing like your beast. You wear…” I gestured at his dark pants and slightly lighter shirt. “Your beast wears a vest and a hat in the woods.”

“I see. Actually, I don’t see. Are you drunk, or am I?”

I pushed his shoulder. “I’m serious. I need to talk to your beast. Let me have him, just for a few minutes.”

His jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed. “No. It wouldn’t be a few minutes, and it wouldn’t be you having him, but quite the reverse, I assure you. Tell me. That’s much safer.”

“I’m not worried about my safety with the beast. I fell asleep on top of him. I could have passed out from fear, but I’m almost sure that’s not what it was.”

He rumbled a growl that went through me, triggering fear and panic, but also something else, a shiver of delight that had my heart beating faster. “Sorry, Princess Sparkles. No. If you ask for my beast again, I’m going to have you wash the warehouse floors.”

I wrinkled my nose at him and took another drink of my peaches. The glass was full again. The bartender must be refilling it. “Max, you aren’t playing fair. I’ve had the worst day today, dealing with goblin officers and awful, horrible, terrible fairies who kill children. Of course, he had hardly any fairy blood, but it still makes me sick to think about it. Let me…” He covered my mouth with his hand and leaned close enough so I could see every striation of his golden eyes that flickered like fire.

“No, Princess Sparkles. I’m serious. Not tonight. Not in that dress.”

I sighed heavily and pulled his hand down. “Fine.” How in the world was I going to get my funding? I had to find out who and what had put the block on Shotglass, but of course I’d failed. I was just some stupid illiterate fairy living in a forms-and-contracts world.

“Tell me what you need.”

“No.” I turned and waved at the bartender, who was pouring a drink at the far side. She came over, looking between me and Max warily.

“What can I get you?” she asked him.

I thumped the bar. “I would like a glass of your most expensive drink. Lord Max is paying.” I thumped his chest for emphasis. Also because I wanted to. He was messing up my whole plan. I mean, I’d gotten this dress for him.

She turned to look at him. “Is that right, sir?”

“The sir isn’t right, but I’ll buy the lady’s drink.”

I snorted and scowled at him and his deliciously glowing golden eyes. “Lady? My request was reasonable, but you refused it out of hand. That’s not fair.” I scowled at his face and the perfectly gorgeous jaw line that was angling in my direction. I poked his face, the silky skin, the hard bones. “I hate your face. Why don’t you grow your beard back?”

“What do you hate about it?”

“Everything. And it’s not fair that you tasted me and I haven’t tasted you.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “Are you that hungry? And drinking on an empty stomach?” His eyes narrowed at me and he covered my glass as the bartender tilted a bottle to pour more in. “You have no idea what you’re drinking, do you?”

“Peaches,” I informed him. “It tastes less like acid now. Werewolf drinks are vile, but interesting. You don’t want me to talk to your beast? Then what am I supposed to do? I’m supposed to look alluring, but no one notices. Maybe I need to be more aggressive. Which wolf in this bar is the best at making out? I should say, which has the lowest standards.” I sighed heavily.

He stared at me, then gave the rest of the room a scant glance before returning his heavy gaze to me. He picked up my drink and took a sip, winced and set it down. “Now you’re looking for physical connection with a werewolf? You’ve clearly been drinking too much. Let’s go back to the warehouse before you do something you regret.”

I shoved his chest. He didn’t move, just narrowed his glorious golden eyes at me. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve kissed a werewolf. I need to experience it so I can get it out of my system. You aren’t my alpha, Lord Max.”

He pursed his lips and studied me. “First you want my beast, and now anyone will do? That might hurt his feelings. As to which is the best at making out, that depends on your criteria. Do you mean the best at not losing it to his beast and ripping you apart when his passion gets the better of him? That would be me. I have extremely good control, or my beast would have dragged you to a cave by now.”

I scowled at him and poked his chest. “You won’t make out with me.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because you are mated to the moon,” I said, gesturing broadly at the ceiling.

“Do you want to make out with me?”

I stared at him while my chest constricted. Did I want to taste him while wrapped in fervent desire? “I don’t know. You’re scary. And I’ve never kissed anyone before, so it’s important to get someone who knows what they’re doing.” I nodded, because that seemed to make sense.

“You haven’t kissed anyone, even Vervain the Terrible?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Especially Vervain.” I hesitated and then took his hand in mine, spreading my fingers through his and then looked up into his eyes, watching the flickering gold while the feeling of happiness and contentment rolled over me like a wave. There it was. Happiness in a touch. What would it feel like to taste his mouth? It was worth asking, even if I knew he was going to reject me. “Will you kiss me?”

“How drunk are you?” His eyes were so bright and intense.

My heart beat faster. He didn’t say no, and he didn’t pull away. I swallowed hard. “Do drunk people kiss better or worse?”

“Drunk people make decisions that they wouldn’t have made sober.”

I frowned at his perfectly bare chin. “I’m not sure about that. They might just do things they wanted to do but had the sense not to do. Is that different?” I looked up into his eyes. So burning. So hungry. He was a werewolf, but the hunger seemed to match mine. I wanted to touch him to the bone, to taste him and pull his hair and wrap around him like a barnacle before I had to leave. Vervain was somewhere. He could show up at any time and drag me back to my duty. Panic. Vervain couldn’t come before I’d tasted my wolf.

“You want to kiss me, Princess Sparkles?” His voice was a low growl that rippled down my spine.

“Obviously, Lord Max. All the fairies want to taste you. Hadn’t you noticed? You really should stop shaving. Your chin is too perfect.”

He rumbled a laugh. “Isn’t it, though? Still, it’s less attractive to werewolf females, so that’s a distinct positive to it. I?—”

He wouldn’t let me talk to his beast. He wouldn’t let me finish my drink. He wouldn’t stop shaving his beard. Well, I wasn’t a very civilized fairy, and I’d been on my best behavior all day.

I slid over onto his lap and took his face in my hands. I pressed our lips together, cutting him off. I closed my eyes, and then the world shattered. A ripple of pleasure went through me, then another, and another, each wave higher than the last, until with a gasp I broke away to find that the world hadn’t exploded around us. Weird.

His eyes were flickering as wildly as an out-of-control volcano, and then he slid his hand around the base of my skull and pulled me back to his lips. The connection was almost painful, then too sweet, filling my chest with the most potent aching that melted into happiness. I clung to him, drowning in his mouth, his taste, his tongue, and then another wave went through me, cramping my stomach. I tried to hang onto him, but the sickness rose up inside of me, the death, the hate, the rage, rising and rising until I turned my head as it came out of my throat, my pores, trailing off my wings in sparkling black, lethal threads.

Had I ever felt so awful? I was dying. It was the absolute opposite of how I’d felt kissing him. What was wrong with me? Why would I have to ruin that perfect kiss with lethal bile? Life wasn’t fair. All I needed was for Vervain to show up and judge me. I was like a rag wrung out, squeezing every drop of venom out of me, and it wasn’t pretty. Strong arms picked me up. Max was carrying me. I tried to push him away, but I couldn’t see very well from my eyes, covered in the noxious poison tears as they trailed down my cheeks in fiery streaks. Hm. That rhymed. I should write the worst composition in existence to memorialize this moment.

“Go away, Max. I’m poison,” I whispered between bouts of agonizing eruption of death. “All the poisoned victims are getting their revenge on me,” I moaned, then retched again.

“The ones you healed so thoroughly?” He tsked. “There’s no gratitude anymore. The stuff coming out of your eyes looks very creepy. Particularly with the sparkles,” he said, laughter threading his words. Was he having fun with this?

I straightened up to wipe my eyes and glare at him, but before I got more than a blurry image of his crooked smile, it was more vile retching that fully occupied my attention. If he wanted to carry me around while I died, whatever. I spent forever vomiting and sweating until I finally felt empty. My throat burned along with my skin where I wasn’t coated in the drippy stuff.

Max carried me into a pond beneath the moon outside of his big neon scribble house, sitting down in the shallows while I leaned my head on his strong shoulder, incapable of movement or thought while the water lapped around us. How had we gotten there? I had no idea, but the moon was above us, so it was all right. No, his arms were around me, so it was all right. At least, it would be.

“I’m poisoning your pond,” I finally whispered through my raw throat, but I didn’t move. I wouldn’t ever move again.

“I always wanted a poisoned pond. Think how cool the fish would be if they had sparkles.” He sounded so cheerful. He must really like bossing helpless fairies around. I was even more pathetic than the pixie dust addicts.

I sighed heavily and snuggled into him. He was so warm. “Fish already have sparkles. If I don’t get off you soon, I’m going to fall asleep. Then you’ll never get rid of me.”

“I appreciate the warning. You even have poison fairy sparkles on your scalp. The glitter really gets everywhere. Is it edible?” He licked my head.

I moaned. “Don’t eat the poisonous sparkles. You’re worse than the juvenile delinquents.”

“Why do you think I’m so good at anticipating them? Sleep, Princess Sparkles. Rest while the moon floats above the city, then when you wake up, everything will be better.”