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The Mysterious Lost Child (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 2)

Page 10

by Sarah Noffke


  He nodded and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “I totally get it. I was today years old when I learned that you have to look both ways before crossing the street. I mean, did you know that cars drive in two directions? It’s not like in England when they go the opposite direction in one way.”

  “Actually… That’s not really… Never mind. Yeah, it sounds like you totally get my predicament of recently learning who I am and being pursued by a mysterious evil.”

  Rudolf gave her an encouraging look. “I do. I really do. Cher is still stalking me because of some misunderstanding. As far as knowing who I am, well, that’s a complete mystery to me. I simply crawled out of a wishing well and named myself Rudolf Sweetwater, hoping the murky details would fill in over time. That was six hundred years ago, and nothing has surfaced since. So, yes, I get it.”

  Paris couldn’t help but laugh at the guy beside her. Yes, he had the IQ of a jar of pickles, but he was also endearing. He sounded like he was maybe one of her mother’s best friends—or very committed stalkers. Anyway, it still made her proud to know her parents had royalty for friends even if he was a complete moron.

  Looking up and down the busy street, Paris studied the area. “Where to next?”

  Rudolf’s expression turned uncertain. “That’s the tricky part. Now we have to cross the street. Are you prepared to look both ways?”

  Paris glanced back and forth and nodded. “I think I can handle it, although motorways aren’t really my thing, having grown up on Roya Lane.”

  He held out his arm to her. “Well, have no fear. Uncle Rudolf is here to accompany you.”

  “Where are we headed?” Paris took his arm.

  He pointed at a building directly in front of them. “Right there. It’s where your Uncle Clark lives.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “There?” Paris asked in disbelief, looking at a boarded-up old storefront. Above the display window was a sign that read, “John’s Electronic Repair Shop.”

  “Yep.” Rudolf led her across the road when it was clear, whipping his head back and forth as if a car might suddenly appear.

  “My uncle lives in a closed-down electronics repair shop?” she questioned.

  “No, silly. That would be weird. He lives in the tiny little apartment above it.”

  Paris glanced up at the second story, which had a brick façade and small balcony with a fire escape ladder that led to the rooftop. “I guess that’s not so bad. It’s sort of charming.”

  King Rudolf huffed. “I guess. I mean, it’s not the Cosmopolitan Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, but it’s better than living in North Hollywood.”

  Paris laughed. “Who would live at the Cosmopolitan?”

  “Me.” He proudly placed his hand on his chest. “That’s where my kingdom headquarters is, but I mostly live in Canada now because everyone is much nicer there. Besides, a king doesn’t have to sit on his throne to rule a race of people.”

  “Yeah, I guess you can rule remotely with electronics,” Paris agreed.

  He shook his head. “Oh no. I can’t use a computer. It interferes with my genius.”

  “Is that the issue?” she dryly retorted as they paused in front of a set of stairs that led to the second story. Nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She was about to meet a blood relative.

  “I use the telepathic link.” He tapped the side of his head. “Apparently, I need to have the IT department look into some bugs though, because my council constantly tells me they aren’t getting my messages.”

  She thought about picking apart the whole telepathic link thing but instantly decided against it. “You have an IT department, but you don’t use computers?” Paris questioned.

  “Why is that so weird?” he questioned quite seriously. “Every king needs to have an Internal Thoughts department. Raphael, the department head, sold me on the telepathic link before I even hired him. He created his job and the department. Brilliant guy and saves us a ton on paper costs, but communications aren’t what they used to be.”

  “I hope you don’t pay him that much,” Paris remarked.

  “I’m not sure what I pay him,” Rudolf related. “He sent it to me in a message, but I didn’t receive it. He said that it got lost in the brain mainframe. I told him, ‘Whatever I’m paying you, I’m going to double it so we can fix this problem.’ That was twenty-something years ago, and we haven’t had that problem since. He does his job so well most of the time that I never hear from him.”

  “You know that… I mean, he’s not really… Never mind.” Paris shook her head and regarded the stairs in front of her.

  “Would you like to go up now or do you want to stall some more?” Rudolf questioned. “I can tell you all about the losers in North Hollywood if so. That’s where the real whiners live. They’re the starving artists who are all butt-hurt that West Hollywood is so much better than them so they cling to the idea that they aren’t selling out to get a leading role. The real truth is they couldn’t act their way out of a paper bag and would sleep with every director in town to get a job if they didn’t have a whole host of ST—”

  “Yeah, I think I’m ready to go up,” Paris interrupted, not sure she was ready but deciding that if she listened to King Rudolf much longer, she might lose too many brain cells.

  “Very well.” The fae led her up to the second floor. “Get ready to be really bored. Clark Beaufont is totally lame.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The short breezeway on the second floor had several doors to different residents, making Paris think that Clark’s apartment must be tiny. That took the pressure off because she worried deep down that her family were these posh types that might look down on her for living in a small studio apartment and not having much money. The thought had crossed her mind, especially when she learned that King Rudolf lived at the Cosmopolitan, but he was the king of the fae, after all.

  Paris stood to the side of the door as Rudolf knocked twice. A moment later, the door opened slightly, followed by the appearance of a very attractive man with blond hair that was slicked back and brushed to the side and blue eyes. He was older than her, but as a magician, that wasn’t saying very much. He could be in his forties or two hundred years old. Clark wore a pinstriped suit that reminded her of Wilfred’s daily attire.

  “What do you want?” He looked King Rudolf up and down with a scowl on his face. “You know we aren’t supposed to talk.”

  “Every year since our last conversation has been a breath of fresh air, dearest Clark,” Rudolf stated in a dignified manner. “I’m here because I have someone to introduce you to.” He held his hand out to Paris in a presenting way. “May I have the honor of introducing—”

  “G-G-Guinevere,” Clark stuttered, his eyes wide and his face covered in shock. “I-I-If you’re here, that means—”

  “The identity charm broke,” King Rudolf interrupted. “Which is why I can talk to you, although I think we should go back to not talking after this. This brief interaction with you has hurt my soul.”

  “G-G-Guinevere,” Clark stammered again, looking between Rudolf and Paris.

  “You’ve already said that,” Rudolf stated. “I think she prefers to go by Paris.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Is that correct?”

  Paris nodded. Her insides suddenly felt all smashed together. Her palms were sweating, and she was dizzy.

  “You know?” Clark asked her. “What all do you know? If someone broke the charm…” He raked his fingers into his gelled-back hair and shook his head as if it suddenly hurt.

  “She’s aware that she’s in danger,” Rudolf said. “She doesn’t know anything other than she’s Paris Beaufont, and Liv and Stefan are her parents. I did tell her how horrible her father is, although it scorched my throat.”

  Clark gave him a punishing expression. “You shouldn’t have been able to tell her that much. The silencing spell…”

  “I didn’t tell her who her parents are,” Rudolf stated smugly.

&nbs
p; “It was a professor at Happily Ever After College,” Paris offered, finally finding her voice. “I found out yesterday that I’m half-fairy and half-magician and a Beaufont. I don’t know how she discovered the information, but she did, and I’m here to find answers.”

  Clark sighed. “Then I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place.”

  “Uncle John said as much.” Paris had expected his answer and kept her expectations low. “He also said that you’d need to be alerted about the identity charm breaking.”

  Clark nodded. “Yes, that changes everything. You’re in a lot of danger.”

  “Which is why she probably shouldn’t be hanging out in this hallway,” Rudolf sang. “She was being pursued on Roya Lane, but I think we’re safe at the moment.”

  “I have a protective charm.” Paris patted her pocket where the coin was.

  “Smart girl,” Rudolf said proudly.

  “Yes, but I think it only helps me so much,” she said with disappointment, thinking of the cutting wind.

  Clark nodded. “Yes, nothing is infallible. You should be safe in here.” He pulled back the door, welcoming her into his place. “We can talk briefly, but I’ll warn you, I can’t say much.”

  “I understand.” Paris took a step forward but was tugged back by Rudolf gently gripping her arm.

  “My love, I leave you here,” he said fondly. “I trust you’ll be fine with Clark, albeit extremely underwhelmed after being in my presence.”

  “Bye, Rudolf,” Clark said dismissively.

  Ignoring him, Rudolf continued. “If you ever need anything, simply send me a message.”

  “Over the telepathic link,” Paris stated dryly.

  “Precisely!” Rudolf glanced at Clark. “I’d invite myself into your hovel of a home, but I just had my shoes shined and don’t want to have to do it again.”

  “You weren’t invited inside,” Clark fired back.

  “Please tell your lovely wife that I said hello and that she can do so much better than you.” Rudolf backed toward the stairs and waved. “Farewell, Paris. Until we meet again.”

  With that, the king of the fae disappeared, leaving Paris standing in front of a stranger and the only blood relative she’d ever met…or could remember meeting.

  Chapter Thirty

  Paris felt as though she’d stepped through to a brand-new world when she crossed the threshold to Clark’s apartment. It wasn’t only because she entered her mysterious uncle’s home, but also because it wasn’t at all tiny as she expected.

  Paris halted inside the apartment and backed up, looking at the cramped hallway and the next residence’s proximity. Then she stepped inside again and gave Clark a strange look.

  He nodded with understanding. “Yes, it’s bigger on the inside. Renovation spells.”

  Paris glanced around at the large and very fancy apartment. It was the poshest place she’d ever been inside.

  So much for thinking my relatives won’t judge me for being uncultured and poor, she thought.

  A crystal chandelier hung overhead in the entryway, illuminating the bright white walls and vaulted ceiling. The marble floors matched the walls and the winding staircase that led to the second floor. Everything was white, making Paris feel like she stood out in her black leather jacket and pants.

  “Please come in.” Clark gestured at the long hallway that led to a large living area that was also all white with large sofas and glass tables and minimal personal effects. “The wards should keep you safe here. At least for a little while.”

  “From what?” Paris asked.

  Clark paused beside the sofa and pressed his lips together, a look on his face that said, “I can’t say.”

  Paris nodded. “It was worth a shot.”

  “Please sit.” He indicated the sofa. “What do you know?”

  She remained standing. “I know what King Rudolf told you and that Uncle John isn’t my real uncle but you are, and Sophia is my aunt, and something is trying to get to me. I think it was using wind to try and take the protective charm off me.”

  Clark nodded, not sitting either. He seemed like the ultra-serious type, also very much like Wilfred, but Paris didn’t mind that so much even if King Rudolf found it boring. Clark was the complete opposite of the flamboyant fae.

  “Uncle John said that you should be alerted because you all would be in danger,” Paris continued. “But that whatever was out there wanted me.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Clark paced, rubbing his fingers together as he did. “I should be fine here and at the House of Fourteen, but yes, we will need to set up extra protection, especially for you.”

  “I have the charm.”

  “But as you mentioned…” His sentence trailed away, and Paris got the impression that he couldn’t even mention the danger that had tried to take it off her because of this silencing spell. She remembered that the little King Rudolf had disclosed had caused him pain and it wasn’t even crucial information.

  “I live at Happily Ever After College,” she disclosed.

  He let out a sigh of relief. “Good. You’re completely safe there. I can’t think of a better place for you. John is very smart to have sent you there.”

  Paris’ face flushed. “Well, he didn’t really have a choice.”

  Clark paused his pacing and regarded her with confusion. His look said, “Go on then.”

  She didn’t know why she’d tell him about her past when she could paint herself any way she wanted, but she also reasoned that the truth would come out at some point so she might as well be honest. Honestly, she wanted to share the details of her life with him. He was her blood relative, and she wanted to know him. It was like a yearning in her soul. Paris reasoned that even if Clark couldn’t tell her about her past or answer her questions, he could still share information about his life. That made her warm with happiness.

  “I got in trouble,” Paris stated.

  “Trouble? Like how?”

  “With the law on Roya Lane.”

  “When was this?” he asked, quite seriously.

  “Oh, a few weeks ago and before that, a few weeks before. Then before that, well, I’ve pretty much been arrested a few dozen times.”

  To her surprise, Clark laughed. “You are your mother’s child.”

  There it was again—that phrase. Everyone kept saying it lately. Paris didn’t know how she could act like someone who she only had one or two fuzzy memories of. When she focused, she could see her mother’s face swim in her mind, but if she focused on it, then it disappeared instantly like a dream.

  “She was a rebel?” Paris wanted all the details.

  Clark’s face went serious again. He simply nodded. “I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you more. I’m sure you want to know everything, and you’re still in shock, having just learned all this.”

  She sighed. “That’s a bit of an understatement, but yes. I don’t even know what to do at this point since no one can talk. I knew I needed to find you. Also Sophia. Can you take me to her? Uncle John said she couldn’t be found unless she wanted to be?”

  Clark’s gaze darted to a white grandfather clock that ticked loudly. “I’d guess she’ll get this news soon. If you just learned and have already been pursued, it will have spread quickly. I bet I was going to hear about it at the House of Fourteen.”

  Paris nodded. “Yes, apparently fairy godmothers spread information fast. It was all over the college today, and apparently, the families of the students knew. Not everyone is happy that a magician is attending the college, but the headmistress says I’m fine.”

  That seemed to please Clark. “Good. Yes, Willow Starr is a very competent and understanding headmistress. Still, once this information is out, it will cause more problems for you.”

  “Because I’m a halfling and they’re rare?”

  Clark chewed on his lip with that look she saw so frequently now. He couldn’t say anything. “I can tell Sophia this news. She’s probably on a mission.”

  “She
’s a dragonrider?” Paris remembered what Wilfred told her about her aunt being the leader of the Dragon Elite and the Rogue Riders.

  He nodded. “Yes, and she’ll need to know to be on guard. I’ll message her.”

  “I know she can’t tell me anything either,” Paris began. “I’d still like to meet her. It would be nice to know what happened to my parents and how I became a halfling and what is after me, but since it appears you all can’t tell me, I’d at least like to meet my family. My entire life feels like a lie up until this point.”

  Remorse crossed his face. “I’m so sorry for that, Guinevere…Paris. I really am. If there had been another way…”

  “Is there something you can tell me?” Paris wondered if she could piece together unrelated bits of information. “Anything about me or my parents or my life? Maybe something about you?”

  He sighed heavily as if she’d asked him to solve a complex riddle. “The silencing spell is pretty thorough. It prevents me from even telling you what my favorite color is.”

  Paris looked around the place. “I’m guessing it’s white.”

  Clark smirked.

  “There are apparently loopholes in the silencing spell,” Paris continued. “Uncle John said the same thing about how I was like my mom, and Rudolf told me she loved nachos.”

  Clark nodded, a sad fondness rising in his eyes. “Yes, that’s true. She did.”

  “You miss her,” Paris observed.

  Another nod. “Every single day.”

  “Is there somewhere I can look to find out what had happened to my parents or information on them or even a picture?” Paris pulled out her phone, realizing that it would work now that she wasn’t at Happily Ever After College.

  “I’m afraid not,” Clark said with disappointment.

  “Not even a picture?” Paris asked.

 

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