Midlife Fairy Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 2

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Midlife Fairy Hunter: The Forty Proof Series, Book 2 Page 3

by Mayer, Shannon


  “I’m going to try,” she said as she tapped my head again. Try.

  “I’m not going to talk to your lady if you can’t get me down,” I said.

  She let out a squeak and the tapping on my skull increased in intensity, but I didn’t lower to the ground. I tried not to think about being stuck in the air for the rest of . . . well, for however long.

  I wrapped my hand around the strap of my bag, reassuring myself that I still had the money. That was something, even if Monica and I had to make our transaction mid-air. The leather was soft and supple under my palm, and better yet, the bag held more than it should and actually lessened the weight of its contents. It currently contained my gran’s thousand-page leather-bound book, a change of clothes made completely of leather, a stack of money, and the two knives that I normally kept strapped to my thighs, yet the whole package felt like it weighed less than a pound. Pretty nifty. The bag every girl dreams of, if you ask me.

  Of course, that stash of cash had been winnowed down quite a bit. Eric had paid me fifty thousand dollars for saving his life. Sounds like a lot until you take the PayPal fees and taxes off. Kidding, he’d paid me in cash. I’d nearly peed myself when he’d handed it over. Shock doesn’t even begin to describe the emotions that had coursed through me with the weight of the money.

  But the Hollows Group had taken fifty percent, part of our agreement, and I’d also had to pay Crash.

  Just thinking of Crash had me smelling his cologne. The blacksmith was a master at making weapons, and I’d taken a pair of knives from him with the caveat that I would give him ten percent of my first bounty.

  I’d tried to give the knives back.

  He’d refused.

  I’d been forced to hand over the money. Not that another five thousand would have made much of a difference. I’d be able to go to two hundred thousand, but hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

  The smell of Crash’s cologne grew stronger as a huge hand wrapped around my unencumbered ankle. The magic Kinkly had poured over me was burned off in a flash of heat. Monica hit the ground in a crumple, and I would have been right there beside her if someone hadn’t caught me.

  Fire and flame, that’s what Crash was made of, and his heat surrounded me in a toe-curling way. I somehow managed to keep my legs under me as he set me on the ground. My gran was looking past me, her eyes flashing with recognition. “Did you know him?” I asked, not caring that he could hear me.

  She nodded and a smile whispered across her lips. “I remember him, but not what he is. That one is dangerous, though. Especially to you.” Her eyes narrowed and then she was gone, having completely disappeared. I sighed. Kinkly, who’d managed to stay on my shoulder, scrambled around to peer back at Crash. She gave a squeak and flew away from my shoulder, out into the garden.

  Monica groaned and wobbled to her feet. “Oh, the heat just takes the stuffing out of you, doesn’t it?” Crash agreed, put a hand under her arm and helped her up to the porch, where she sat on a step. Yes, I did notice how his pants tightened as he bent over. Yes, I did look.

  Heat flared through me again, and I tried desperately to school myself as he turned around and walked back my way, placing himself right behind me, where he’d been before. Damn him in all his chivalry and hotness.

  “What are you doing here, Crash?” I didn’t turn around and I didn’t run away like Kinkly, although part of me thought I probably should. The man behind me was all kinds of stunning, from his rock-hard abs and bulging arm muscles to the lovely dark, silver-kissed hair tucked behind his ears and those blue eyes flecked impossibly with gold. All of that made me cross my legs and want to have a long, hot shower by myself. Trust me, I wasn’t kidding about my libido having gone bananas.

  Crash did not help that particular side of me, so it was best if I didn’t even look at him.

  “There’s a house auction today, I hear,” he said, his voice rumbling over my skin as if he were touching me. “And I’m here to bid on it.”

  I spun and glared at him, my resolution to keep him out of sight having given way to a blitz of anger that had burned away most of my raging libido. “Don’t you dare! I just got rid of all the other bidders!” I was purposely not thanking him for getting me down from floating across the yard.

  His eyebrows shot up in what could only be mock innocence. “Why wouldn’t I bid? It’s a beautiful house with great curb appeal, and as an investment, I don’t think I could go wrong.”

  My eyebrows lowered in perfect contrast to his going up. To spite me. That’s why he was here. We’d not parted on great terms, what with me trying to return the knives and him accusing me of reneging on a deal. All I’d wanted was to cut ties with him.

  You see, he’d forged the demon-steel knife that had nearly been used to kill Eric. Worse, he’d given it back to Hattie after I’d stolen it from him. It had been a matter of sheer luck—with a sprinkle of good timing—that I’d managed to keep Eric safe.

  I glared at him, anger stealing my voice. The best I could do was turn my back on him with a big huff and hope that he didn’t want the house too badly. Though if what he was saying was only a little true, he wanted it badly enough.

  Of course, that was when things went from bad to worse.

  You see, my gran had had two besties. The one I’d liked, Hattie, had turned out to be a grave-magic-dabbling psycho. The other, Missy, I’d never liked. She’d always been cruel to me, and to others. I’d seen her do things behind Gran’s back that would curl your hair, but she was careful not to leave marks.

  Gran had never believed me. It was the one thing that hung between us. I’d never understood why she’d stood up for Missy.

  But if the nice friend had been a nut, what did that suggest about Missy?

  I needed to figure out fast, because she was strolling up the street, using her wicked cane to support herself. She paused at the small gate, as if to create a maximum amount of suspense. I didn’t want to let her escape my vision, which meant I had to look around Crash in order to see her. A wave of cool air washed forward as she finally stepped onto the garden path, a wind that was impossible in the Georgia heat. I couldn’t help it. I reached out and grabbed Crash’s forearm.

  That saying about the devil you know being better than the one you didn’t? Well, I guess it didn’t apply since I knew both of them, but for the moment he seemed like the lesser of two evils.

  “Now we’re friends again?” he murmured, and I looked up to see his eyes were locked on where I held his arm. I tugged him forward a few steps, away from Missy and closer to the opposite side of the yard. With Crash somewhat blocking me from her line of sight, I felt safer, but she was so focused on the house, a hungry look in her eyes, that she hadn’t even glanced our way yet. You see, the thing is, I knew my gran had left me treasures hidden within the walls. But no one other than the person whose name was on the deed would be able to unlock Gran’s secrets. So said Gran’s book.

  I was starting to think I wasn’t the only one who knew that.

  “She can’t have Gran’s house.” I growled the words and Crash’s arm flexed under my fingers. “She’s banana pants crazy and mean as a snake with a toothache in one of her fangs.” No, as far as I knew she didn’t actually have fangs, but at the rate I was going, who knew?

  Missy stood near the far side of the garden, right up against the side butting up to the Sorrel-Weed house, which put a good amount of space between us. I wasn’t sure it mattered, though. Her eyes hadn’t left the house once in all the time I’d been watching her.

  Crash turned his body so that he completely blocked my view of Missy and vice versa. “You think she’d hurt you?”

  I looked up at him and saw something in his eyes that I wasn’t sure I liked. Genuine concern. “Don’t make me like you again, Crash. I’m still angry about the demon knife. That and not letting me return the two knives for credit. You’re the bad guy, remember?”

  He snorted, and his lips twitched. “Wait until you get a bounty
that requires you to bend the rules, Breena, then we’ll discuss those knives and what it means to be a bad guy.”

  I got up on my tiptoes, mostly so he wasn’t looking so far down on me. I wasn’t short at five-foot-eight, but these last few weeks had carved a good deal of my extra pounds off—pounds I’d used to my advantage in the past to throw my weight around.

  “Right is right, wrong is wrong.” That came out of my mouth as clearly as if my gran had whispered it in my ear. “But let’s set that aside for now. Missy cannot have this house.”

  “Why?” He lowered his voice, his eyes flicking over my face as if he couldn’t help himself. Softening just a bit as they dipped low to my lips. Score one for Kinkly’s makeup help. “You afraid she’ll sell the china?”

  I blew out an exaggerated puff of air as Monica the realtor stepped back out onto the porch, a little wobbly, but moving around now as if nothing had happened. I frowned as she shook her head and clutched her clipboard to her chest.

  She opened her mouth, closed it, and tried again. “It’s like she’s pretending she didn’t just float across the yard like a balloon,” I said.

  “The human mind shuts things out,” Crash said. “Fairy magic in particular tends to do strange things to humans.”

  I wanted to look at him, to see what his face was saying more than his words, but I found myself staring at Monica. She tapped the wooden porch with her foot to get our attention, using three hard knocks that reverberated harder than they should have in my experience. The sound vibrated through me, and I couldn’t help but tighten my hold on Crash’s arm.

  “Interesting,” he said.

  Interesting? That wasn’t the word I’d use. Was Monica with the shadow world? It felt like there was some intention behind those knocks, but intention to do what? Not just to get people’s attention, but something else. She was human, so why the hell had she done that?

  An intention to wake something.

  That was my knee-jerk guess, and my guesses had a tendency to be pretty damn good. That meant someone had told her to do it, but not why, because I’d bet my last dollar she really was blind to the shadow world.

  A few people drifted out of the house and into the overgrown front garden, as if all they’d heard was a simple knock.

  Crap! So they hadn’t all left? I pinched the bridge of my nose for a moment. I should have waited to pull my stunt show.

  “Let’s begin, shall we?” Monica’s voice was not wobbly at all, though she’d locked her knees together.

  “Wait,” called out a voice that made my skin crawl. Any anger I felt toward Missy was burned up by the fury that this one’s voice lit in me. It felt like a ticking time bomb.

  “Um, Breena,” Crash breathed out my name. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re hurting me. Ease off.”

  I barely heard him as he peeled my fingers off his arm, my hands settling into fists at my sides, fingertips biting into my palms. My eyes were all for the lanky bastard who strode down the middle pathway toward the porch. His eyes were all for Monica, and he didn’t once look my way. No, that’s not entirely true. He glanced at me, but didn’t seem to realize it was me. Ass.

  Himself wore a three-piece suit and tie, a jaunty cap to hide his mostly bald head, and three days’ worth of stubble. I suppose some people would think it made him look more approachable. I just wanted to kick him in the balls and be done with it. Okay, maybe I wanted to kick him in the balls, and then stomp on them when he went to the ground.

  Of course, he swept the yard with his gaze as soon as he joined Monica on the porch, and he did a full-on double take when he saw me.

  A look of satisfaction flashed across his features, then anger. He leaned into Monica and pointed me out, saying something as he did so. She glanced at me and frowned, and shook her head as if disagreeing with him. I thought I heard her say something about letting all bidders bid.

  “That son of a . . .” I breathed out a number of my more creative curse words, several that my phone liked to autocorrect to duck. Ducking limp dick. Mother ducker. Jaw ticking, I stood my ground.

  “He’s not going to let you bid, is he?” Crash asked quietly.

  My entire body shook with a hot rage that built with each passing second, and I couldn’t answer him with anything but a shake of my head. I barely noticed that Crash had stepped away from me at first, and when I did, my anger only redoubled. He was acting as if I were contagious. Of course, he wanted the house for his own reasons—he wouldn’t want an association with me to ruin his chances.

  Monica beamed his way, and even winked at the crowd or, more specifically, Crash.

  “Let’s begin, shall we?”

  3

  Monica the realtor held her hand up, and started the bidding at one hundred thousand for my gran’s house, the house that was supposed to be mine. I lifted my hand in answer, but her gaze swept right over me, and she pointed at someone to my right.

  My jaw ticked and I tried again at one hundred fifty thousand. Again and again, her eyes and hand swept over me. I forced myself to look at Himself at her side, and he had the nerve, the ducking nerve!, to give me a smug smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His hands were at his sides and he spread them a little, palms facing me as if to say what did you expect? Of course, he might also be getting back at me for the little display Corb and I put on for him.

  Rat bastard indeed.

  I had twenty thousand in my bag as a down payment, but I wouldn’t be able to use it if I couldn’t get a bid in. Not that it looked like it was going to matter—the auction was already above my pay grade.

  Gran appeared in the doorway, and her eyes flicked to my far right, her left. I followed her gaze to Crash, who was bidding, but she shook her head, so I moved it further to the right. Missy stood there, silently bidding with just a flick of her cane when it was her turn.

  Monica called out, “Four hundred thousand.”

  Missy lifted her hand. The house was now far out of my league.

  I blew out a breath I’d sucked in as Crash nodded in response to Monica’s query for more money. They were the only two left in the auction; the rest of the group was just watching now to see the outcome.

  What was I going to do?

  Think girl, think! I heard my gran’s voice say, although this was my inner gran, not her ghost. You aren’t some inexperienced woman. You’ve got years of life experience under your belt, and years of working at a law firm too. You’ve got to do something or you’re going to lose any chance you have at getting the house.

  If I could distract Missy long enough . . . maybe Crash would get the house. If he didn’t have to pay as much, then maybe he’d be grateful? What his gratitude would do for me I didn’t know, but something told me Missy was more dangerous. For now, anyway. For all I knew, she’d been in on Hattie’s plan. I didn’t want her to increase her strength with whatever Gran had hidden for me in the house. All of that flashed through my brain in milliseconds and I came to a quick decision.

  I strode across the garden, pushing several tall stalks of herbs out of my way to get to where Missy stood. She was so intent on her bidding war with Crash that she didn’t notice. Kinkly floated down from a tree branch to land on my right shoulder, light as a feather. “Careful,” she warned.

  When I stood right behind Missy, I whispered, “I have her book.”

  Missy whipped around and stared hard at me. “What?”

  A chance was all I was going to get. I didn’t take my eyes off her as I flipped open the bag on my hip and pulled out the red leather-bound book, cradling it in my arm. I knew she’d recognize it. The front cover, hand etched with a crescent moon and a spattering of stars, was one of a kind, much like the handwritten pages inside. “This is what you’re looking for, isn’t it?” I stared down at the book, stroking the cover. “Written in her hand.”

  “Give it to me,” she hissed, reaching for it. I jerked it away from her hands. “Celia left that book for me, and someone stole it from the
house.”

  “Going once.”

  I shrugged. “I bought it fair and square. It doesn’t bother me none that you had it first.”

  Her eyes about bugged out, which was not a good look on her. “Bought it? From who?”

  “I don’t think that really matters, now does it? I mean, I paid for it, and it’s in my possession. I have the letter of the law—both human and shadow world—on my side.” I smiled suddenly. “You wouldn’t want to go against the council, would you?” The council being the thirteen supernaturals who oversaw the shadow world in Savannah. From what I understood, there was a mishmash of supernaturals on the council, from witches to necromancers, from shifters to leprechauns.

  It was probably an idle threat. I didn’t have much clout, plus I’d only met one of the council members, Darv, and he was a pretentious little prick who thought he was smarter than anyone else because he had a pair of balls dangling between his legs.

  “Going twice.”

  I stared hard at Missy as her head started to turn toward Monica. “You won’t believe what I found in here.” I tapped the book and her eyes whipped back toward me, narrowing so rapidly I thought for a moment that she’d closed them.

  A muttered word and her left hand began to glow. “Give it to me now, and I won’t hurt you.” Kinkly let out a squeak and Missy’s eyes shot to the fairy. “Filthy vermin.” Her hand lifted as if she intended to toss a spell at Kinkly. I’d seen her do it before. Zap fairies, that is, or really any supernatural creature she thought unworthy of air.

  I grabbed her hand and her magic crawled over my arm, stealing my breath. The urge to bend my knee and my head under the pain was so sharp I couldn’t breathe around it. Instead, I threw her hand to the side and sucked in a big gulp of air.

 

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