Heaven Sent (Lupine Bay Book 1)

by Maribel Fox

  “Hi!” I answer, just as bright. “I’m Ava, owner of the B&B up the hill? Welcome to town,” I say, offering the woman my hand.

  She doesn’t look much older than me up close, but she’s wrapped in scarves and shawls that give her the look of a much older lady. There’s not a line on her face, though.

  “Many thanks, my lady. I am Delia,” she says, looking at my hand with a small smile as she does a strange bow-curtsy thing. It’s bizarre behavior, but I’m not sure I should expect anything else from someone that owns a shop that looks like this. “Can I interest you in some tea? My signature blend is a restorative mixture of saffron, mint, and berry, perfect for adding some zen to your day. We also have Turkish Coffee, of course. Or perhaps a cookie?”

  A cafe. Now it makes sense. I was still trying to put together what exactly this place is offering.

  “Tea would be wonderful,” I say with a polite nod. It’ll give me the chance to admire the decor while I’m here, too. I swear I didn’t notice this place being worked on a couple of weeks ago, but this kind of decorating would’ve taken months.

  “What brings you to Lupine Bay?” I ask as she fixes the tea.

  Delia gives me an odd look, that small smile still on her lips, like we’re sharing a secret even though I’m not sure what it is.

  “I suppose you could say I felt at home here,” she says with a nod. “That’s enough for me to settle down.” Then she hands me a steaming mug of fragrant tea. I take a slow sip, cooling it with my breath.

  “Oh wow,” I say, eagerly taking another drink heedless for the burn in my throat. “This is fantastic. How much do I owe you?”

  “Nothing at all,” she says, smiling still. “The pleasure is all mine, my lady. Enjoy.”

  The ‘my lady’ thing is weird, but Delia seems nice overall. And this tea is great. Definitely a nice addition to town. I want to ask her more questions — specifically about why she keeps referring to me that way — but something stops me. I remember something my mom said about not asking questions you don’t really want the answer to. I drink my tea in silence, taking a mini tour of the tea shop as I do, and I leave without saying anything more.

  Stepping outside into the daylight hits me like a bat to the face, and I stagger back into the door, shielding my eyes.

  The idea of finishing my errands isn’t appealing anymore, so I decide to skip them and head back to the bar. Rue should be there by now, and hopefully she can help me sort through the mess that is my head.

  Of course I’m not going to tell her everything. Telling Rue about the flaming sword and Alistair claiming to be a vampire, and these four guys all being magic or supernatural or whatever — yeah, there’s no way I’m telling my best friend about all those details. I don’t really want to be committed.

  But I can creatively omit enough to get her thoughts on all of this. And I need her input. Rue’s my best friend. She’s the one that’s been there for me through everything, and she knows what I was like before. Before my mom died and I had to pick up all the responsibilities she left behind.

  If anyone’s going to understand this predicament I’m in, it’s her.

  “There you are,” Rue says the moment I walk into The Shamrock.

  “Here I am,” I answer drolly.

  She narrows her eyes, full, lush lips pursing into a pout. “Uh-oh, what’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? What makes you think something’s wrong?” I ask innocently.

  “Cause I know you,” she says, smirking from the other side of the bar. “Want a drink?”

  “It’s not even noon,” I protest.

  “So?”

  I laugh and shake my head, sliding onto a barstool. “So we’re doing this bartender confession thing then, huh?” I ask with a grin.

  Rue shrugs, pulling out a glass, holding it up to me. “What’ll it be?”

  “Marionberry Cider,” I acquiesce with a sigh.

  “What do you need to confess?” Rue asks, eyebrows waggling suggestively as she pours my cider from the bottle.

  “Nothing! Who said I have anything to confess?”

  “You did.”

  I groan. “Right. Why’d I do something dumb like that?”

  “I dunno,” Rue chirps. “But I’m excited to hear about what other dumb thing you did.”

  “Gee thanks, pal,” I mutter sarcastically, drinking my cider.

  “Anytime,” Rue laughs, then leans against the bar and sighs. “But seriously, what’s up?”

  My shoulders slump and I groan again. Guess there’s no use in trying to get out of it. I want to talk to her about it because she’s always got a good perspective on things. It’s just the actual talking part that’s hard. Sometimes I wish I could download all the information from my brain into someone else’s, just to get their input on my thought process. Saying it all out loud seems like too much.

  But it’s the only choice I’ve got, so I take a deep breath.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird? All the changes going on around here? Going from no customers to practically booked full—”

  “Not to mention how sexy those customers are,” she says, her lewd grin making my face erupt with heat.

  “Now there’s a new shop in town—”

  “There is?” she asks, turning around fast enough her hair’s still bouncing when she stops. “What kind of shop?”

  I shrug. “Some kind of tea shop, very alternative. Really good tea though. The lady seems nice enough, albeit a bit… antiquated, maybe?”

  Rue nods, seeming interested. “I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

  “Yeah, you should.”

  “So what’s bugging you about it?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit. “Lupine Bay was invisible a month ago, and now strangers are pouring in from all over, and a lot of them seem keen to stay— It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  Rue stills and narrows her eyes at me.

  “What?” I ask, squirming in my seat.

  “Which one is it?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “Which guy has you interested enough that you’re freaking out about it?”

  “What are you talking about, I’m not—”

  “Ava,” Rue scolds. “Don’t act like I’m dumb. I know what you were like in high school, before—”

  “Hey, I wasn’t that bad,” I protest, my cider almost empty. When did that happen? Rue’s already getting me a refill, though I’m not sure I need it.

  “You weren’t an innocent virgin either,” she says, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  I sigh, slumping forward. She’s right, of course. I wasn’t exactly promiscuous in high school, but I had a few boyfriends, I fooled around, I wasn’t ashamed of exploring my sexuality.

  Of course everything changed when I had to step up and be the adult of the family.

  Until these guys came and reminded me about those parts of myself I’ve been neglecting for too long. For years I’ve been living like a nun, and now that the dam’s been broken, I’m not sure I can go back to the celibate lifestyle.

  “Soooo?” Rue asks gleefully. “Which one is it? Don’t tell me, let me guess!”

  “Rue—”

  “It was Homer, wasn’t it? You’ve always had your eye on him, and that accent—mmm!” She pretend-swoons.

  “No, Rue—”

  “Okay, okay… so not the Irishman… Um… Surfer-boy? It’s a hard choice between him and broody-guyliner. They’re both sexy as hell, but we might be getting too old for broody—”

  “Rue,” I groan, a sound close to a growl following it.

  “Oh man, it was guyliner, wasn’t it?” Rue asks, jaw dropping. “Damn. Was it hot? I bet it was hot. He seems intense.”

  “Oh my god, you’re making this impossible,” I mutter, dropping my head to the bar. Why did I even think this was a good idea again?

  “Wait… What? What am I making impossible?”

  I sigh, gathering every bit of courage I can muster. “It wasn’t just one of t
he guys,” I say, wincing as I wait for her reaction.

  She’s too quiet though, and eventually I have to look up to make sure she’s still breathing. Her eyes are wide, jaw slack.

  “You… with two…?”

  “Uh…” I duck my head, my face bright red. “Not exactly.”

  “WHAT?”

  I blow out a heavy breath. Guess there’s no point in avoiding it now.

  “Maybe you need a drink,” I tell her, nodding at the back counter before I start to regale her with my exploits from last night.

  Rue is completely titillated — no big surprise there — but she’s not getting what a big problem this is for me. I haven’t explained all the magical complications, of course, but the fact that there are three guys interested in me at the same time is already complicated enough without any of the other stuff.

  “Dude, this is like out of a story or something. This is incredible!” she squeals, on cider number two herself.

  I want to say it doesn’t feel incredible, but that’s not entirely true. Parts of it do. It’s the other parts — parts where I’m sure I’m setting up the destruction of everything I care about — that cause me more mental anguish.

  “It can’t keep happening, though,” I say, my mind made up. Talking it all out with Rue has reminded me why I told myself to stay away from these guys in the first place. Getting attached to them is only going to spell trouble, and I don’t need trouble.

  And as long as they’re around, I don’t think I can resist getting attached. Which means they need to go.

  “What?” Rue asks, scowling. “Why not?”

  “Because—” I’m starting to tell her when the door opens, light from outside flooding the doorway around a dark silhouette.

  Without thinking I’m on my feet, running across the bar to Micah, engulfing him in a tight hug, all vows of getting rid of these crazy men forgotten.

  He’s back!

  Micah is startled and not sure how to respond, judging by the stiff way he just stands there, but after a couple of beats, his arms come up and circle around me too.

  It feels so good. So right, even though it’s perfectly new.

  What the hell is that about?

  “How was your trip?” I ask, heart in my throat. When he left, I wasn’t really on board with the whole idea of Heaven or him being an angel. Now though… Things are different, and the fact that Micah was so nervous about this trip makes me worried too.

  “Uh…” he stammers, looking past me, struggling to make eye contact. “Fine,” he says. “Informative.”

  I frown, pulling back to study him; his stony expression reveals nothing.

  And just like that, the doubts are back. Just like that, I’m feeling like it’s me against the world again.

  Micah went away to Heaven, and I don’t know what happened to him there, but I don’t think it’s good, and now he’s not willing to talk about it. Maybe he’ll talk about it with the other guys. If not, I don’t know what we’ll do. I can’t be on everyone’s side.

  20

  Seamus

  The lad and I’ve just gotten back from our little lesson at the pond, and I settle a hand on his shoulder before we traipse in.

  “Er… Listen, Ava might not exactly appreciate me showin’ you—”

  Ian holds up his hand and huffs. “Come on Seamus, I’m not dumb. Ava would freak out if she knew,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. May not know it for sure yet, but I’d wager the lad’s got a touch of the Fair Folk in his bloodline. Too tricksy to be full human.

  “If I knew what?” Ava says, making us both freeze. I turn with a wide grin, finding Ava looking portrait-perfect with a basket of fresh muffins in tow, and a long flowing skirt that’s made translucent by the early sun rising behind her.

  Damn she’s a lovely sight.

  “Naught to concern yourself with,” I say, opening the door for her and the boy.

  Ava enters but centers a skeptical look on me the whole time.

  “Yeah, okay, sure,” she says, turning to Ian. “What’d you do?”

  Ian’s face twists, and he looks back to me, at a loss for what to do.

  “She already knows something,” he says, voice pained.

  I chuckle and clap him on the shoulder. “It’s all right, lad. ‘Tis my sin to pay for.”

  Ava sets the muffins down on the front reception desk and huffs, glaring at me, fire blazing in her eyes.

  “Seamus, what the hell—”

  “There’s a baby bird!” Ian interjects. “It’s so cute— Well, you probably wouldn’t think it is, cause it’s got these sharp teeth and little stubby legs—”

  “What are you—?” Ava asks, aghast.

  “The boobrie chick,” I admit solemnly. “Your concern for it touched me, and well… I fetched it.”

  “You… fetched it?” she asks.

  “It’s in the pond!” Ian says, oh-so-helpfully.

  “The bird that eats livestock is in our pond?” Ava asks, incredulous, perhaps waiting for us to reveal the joke. There’s no joke here, though.

  “It’s only a baby,” I say.

  “What does it eat?”

  “Otters,” Ian says, grinning.

  “What?”

  “I said it would eat otters if it got desperate, since there’s not a steady supply of horses in the area—”

  “Why the hell have you decided that our pond is a good place for this thing?”

  “You want me to return it to the wild to die as nature intended?”

  “What?” Ian gasps, and Ava’s eyes turn murderous toward me.

  “No, nothing’s going to happen to the bird Ian, don’t worry, bud,” she says, reassuring him as panic’s already evident in his eyes.

  “I taught him how to feed the chick and spare his fingers. He’ll be grand.”

  “Spare his… Remind me not to let you have childcare privileges anymore,” she says with a glower.

  “Aw, don’t be like that. It’s harmless, you have my word.”

  Ava arches a brow at me, her arms crossed. “Your word, huh? That supposed to satisfy me?”

  “I don’t recall any previous lack of satisfaction,” I say, voice turning suggestive long enough to spot the flush creeping up her neck. “Anyhow, I was wanting to talk to you, but you were still asleep.”

  “Don’t try to blame me for this—”

  “Guys, I’m still here,” Ian says, snatching a muffin out of the basket. “And it’s not that big of a deal. He’s really sweet. He likes raw meat, but Seamus says he’s too little for the bones.”

  “Aye,” I say, impressed with his recollection. “He’ll break his teeth.”

  “Birds shouldn’t have teeth,” Ava says with a groan. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  I can tell she’s apprehensive about asking, but she needn’t be.

  “Your heritage,” I say. “Want to go over what I’ve learned.”

  “My…” Her eyes dart to Ian and she licks her lips nervously. “Yeah, let’s go sit in the bar. Ian, you’ll let me know if you need something?”

  He nods. “Bye!” And then he’s running off faster than I can blink.

  Ava makes a face. “I wanna believe he’s off to do homework, but I know realistically he’s going to play Minecraft.”

  “I don’t know what that is,” I admit.

  She shakes her head and then we’re both walking off to the bar, settling into a dark booth in the corner.

  Ava folds her hands on the table and stiffens her spine, her shoulders rigid. Everything about her seems to be on guard, waiting for me to attack — it makes me ache.

  “Lay it on me, what’ve you learned?” she asks, taking a deep breath, shaking her hair back from her shoulders.

  “It’s about Faerie Queens; I knew your type’s a rare one, but I didn’t know the peculiarities of what you can do.”

  “You mean like opening a door to Underhill?”

  I nod. “That’s the main one, of course.
Or the most well-known. The other thing is interesting though — you’re entitled a court.”

  “A… court?” she asks, comprehension lacking. ‘Spose a history lesson’s in order.

  “The Fae Realms are generally divided into two main courts — Seelie an’ Unseelie. Depending on the type of Fae you are, you’re more or less automatically claimed by one o’ the courts.”

  Ava frowns, looking off, then back to me.

  “Which are you in?”

  Such an innocent question, and yet it’s a dagger to my heart. She has no way of knowing that. She couldn’t possibly realize the ancient hurts those four words manage to dredge up.

  I take a deep breath, longing for a drink. Not even The Shamrock’s open at eight in the morning. I’m sure if I pressed the issue Ava would oblige, but she seems a stickler for those things she keeps calling liquor laws. Liquor shouldn’t have laws if you ask me.

  Of course it’s a mite different when it doesn’t all get me plastered like it does others. Guess I’m a bit biased.

  “Neither,” I say. “We’re a bit similar in that regard. Both special enough to warrant our own place.”

  Her forehead wrinkles. “What are you talking about? I’m confused.”

  “As I said, all Fae are in courts, though I am a rare exception due to my unique abilities.”

  “Your…?”

  I laugh. “More to me than drinking, love.”

  “I know that! I wasn’t saying—”

  “I’m also a treasure hunter, ya know.”

  She scoffs, rolling her eyes.

  “That’s the truth,” I tell her. “One o’ my talents is tracking down treasures. And I’ve got my own personal treasure trove where I store all my goodies.” It’s not the kind of detail I share with most, but Ava’s a special case. She’ll hear as much as she wants from me. I’ll not be able to stop myself, I already know it.

  “A personal treasure trove? Really Seamus?”

  Her disbelief is amusin’, but she’s not laughing with me, so I stop myself and clear my throat.

  “Never wonder where I’m pulling things from?” I ask.

  “I thought you were doing silly magic tricks!”