by Tegan Maher
Table of Contents
© 2020 Tegan Maher
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Author’s Note
HOWLING FOR REVENGE | PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
Connect with Me!
Other Series by Tegan Maher
About Tegan
© 2020 Tegan Maher
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form, by any means electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system currently in use or yet to be devised.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or institutions is entirely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal use and may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase a copy for that person. If you did not purchase this book, or it was not purchased for your use, then you have an unauthorized copy. Please go to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting my hard work and copyright.
Chapter 1
“That’s all well and good, Darrius, but comping an entire check every time a guest is displeased is bad for the bottom line,” I said, doing my best to keep a neutral expression when all I wanted to do was bang my forehead on the desk in front of me. He was the fifth person I’d interviewed that morning for the management position at our tiki bar, and I was ready for a drink. Or three. “How else might you manage the situation?”
The middle-aged warlock sitting across from me twiddled his handlebar mustache and stared down his nose at me, one bushy brown brow raised. His plaid linen suit and matching ivy cap made him look more like he was there to teach a Latin class than apply for a bar manager’s position.
“The guest is always right,” he replied with a self-righteous glare. “If they’re not pleased, they shouldn’t have to pay.”
The righteous harumph he added to the end did it. I flipped the manilla folder holding his resume closed and gave him what I was certain was the last of my patient smiles.
“Thank you very much, then,” I told him as I pushed up from the comfy leather office chair I’d been sitting in for the last two hours. “I don’t think we’d be a good match, but I appreciate your time.”
For a second, I didn’t think he was going to take the hint. After a few moments though, he stood as well, his displeasure obvious from the scowl marring his round face. “You’re making a huge mistake. This resort would be lucky to have me!”
“Then we’ll have to agree to disagree,” I said, giving him my first real—albeit snarky—smile of the interview as I motioned to the office door. “We need a manager able to walk the fine line between guest satisfaction and financial solvency. Giving away meals to every person who doesn’t think their drink has enough booze in it would put us bankrupt. Have a nice day.”
As soon as he left the room, I collapsed back into the chair and rolled my head on my shoulders, then put a giant black X on his folder with my Sharpie.
“That guy was a tool,” Tempest, my fox familiar, said from her bed beside me. “Where did Blake get these applications from, ResortRejects.com?”
I huffed a breath out through my nose and took a sip of my water, curling my nose when the tepid liquid hit my mouth. Blake was the director of the resort as well as my ex. That was all water under the bridge, though, and we’d reached a point where we were friends again.
“Apparently,” I said, scraping the five black-Xed manilla folders in front of me into a pile and stuffing them into the top desk drawer. “Come on, I need to stretch my legs and let the wind blow away the unique stench of ignorance, arrogance, and desperation that I’ve been stewin’ in for the last two hours. I can’t believe I’m doin’ this on my day off.”
“Good. I’m starving,” she replied, hopping up from her bed and bouncing along behind me. “It’s already lunchtime, and we barely ate any breakfast.”
My stomach gave an answering growl as we stepped out of the office and into the bar area of the tiki.
Bob, our Bigfoot bartender and one of my best friends, arched a brow at me as I rubbed a hand over my face. “I assume from the way the Nutty Professor stormed out of here that he didn’t get the job?”
“You assume right,” I replied. “If it were up to him, every person who so much as hinted at displeasure would eat and drink for free.”
“Sounds like my kind of manager,” Stan, a regular who also happened to be a cupid, said, grinning and waggling his brows.
“Trust me, he wasn’t,” I said, smiling back. “He wanted to propose a dress code for the tiki bar.”
Considering it wasn’t uncommon for Stan to show up in his work clothes, which consisted of his bow and quiver and a cloth diaper—excuse me, loincloth—the policy shift wouldn’t have worked so well for him. He’d been miffed enough when I’d put a moratorium on the bow because nobody needed to be shot with a love arrow when he’d had one too many and was feeling the whole, “I love you guys” thing at closing time.
The loincloth, however, was fine with me. We were a tiki bar on a beach. It covered a whole lot more than the banana hammocks some guys insisted on wearing for bathing suits.
I climbed onto a barstool and propped my elbows on the smooth, cool wooden bar, closing my eyes and concentrating on the swoosh of the ocean just a hundred yards away. I was a water witch, so the sound of the waves and the kiss of cool sea air was soothing to my soul. My magic stirred and rejuvenated me. After a few moments, I was a little more centered and ready to get something to eat.
Bob gave me a long, speculative look as he poured my beer, but he didn’t say anything.
“Don’t even say it,” I said, showing him my palm. “I have zero interest in keeping the manager’s job. More responsibility, less money. No thanks.”
“It hasn’t been so bad with us sharin’ the duties,” he replied. “I mean, it beats gettin’ another Cass.”
Cass, or Cassiel, had been the last manager. He’d been horrible all the way around. Hideous boss, crappy manager, and a fallen angel, complete with ashy wings. On top of his less-than-lovable persona, he’d been into some shady dealings and had gotten himself murdered. Though we hadn’t been glad he was killed, nobody had been sorry to be out from under his thumb.
“I still have a slew of applications,” I insisted, unwilling to concede just yet. He just lifted a shoulder and flipped the tap closed.
“Where’s Colin?” Stan asked. “I haven’t seen him in forever, it seems like.”
“He’s been around.” I nodded my thanks to Bob when he slid the cold beer in front of me. Colin was my boyfriend, one of the resort’s attorneys, and a werewolf. “He’s in North Carolina visiting family this week, but he should be back tomorrow or the next day. He said he’d be here for the grand openings of the new additions this weekend.”
“I heard about that,” Stan said, popping an onion ring into his mouth. “I flew over the faerie ponds the other day for a quick peek, but I haven’t been to the giants’ wing yet. Is it true that there’s a pool twenty-five feet deep?”
I nodded. “Yeah, and it’s super cool, too. Blake did his research and found out that most giants are between twelve and eighteen feet tall, then had his engineers do all kinds of formulations that factored in weight and velocity and whate
ver other mathy numbers they needed. They determined that twenty-five feet would be sufficient as long as they didn’t include a diving board.”
Stan flapped a chubby hand and took a drink of his rum runner. “Nobody uses diving boards on pools anymore anyway. All the new constructions I see have those bathing decks instead. Personally, I like ‘em. They’re romantic.”
I started to agree, but Tempest interrupted.
“Enough chatter already,” she said, hopping up onto the stool beside me and twitching her whiskers. “I’m starving. You can talk while we eat.”
My stomach rumbled at the reminder, and Bob smiled as he handed Tempest an orange wedge from the garnish caddy. “You two eat more than most grown Bigfoot men I know. You want your regular?”
“Yesh, pleash,” Tempest said around a mouthful of fruit, juice dripping off her whiskers and staining the white fur around her mouth.
I nodded. “Yeah, but we’ll share.” If not, Tempest would eat a whole sandwich then get cranky and want to take a nap. Since we had things to do that afternoon, it was better to shut it down now. She glared at me, her green eyes mutinous, but she didn’t say anything.
“Hey, guys,” a melodic woman’s voice called from behind me. “What’s up?”
I pivoted my head and grinned at the lively, lavender-haired faerie who was a regular at the tiki bar and somebody I considered a friend. “Hey, Cyri! Long time, no see.”
“Yeah,” she said, sliding onto the stool beside me, “Aiden and I went to the Amazon to get away from things for a while. The forests are great, and it’s so private. Great place to just go and unwind, and one of my aunties has a little cottage there.”
Stan crinkled his nose as he took a drink of his beer. “I’m not a fan. Every time I have to fly through there, I end up mosquito bait.”
Cyri laughed, a pleasant, tinkling sound. “Yeah, that’s an issue for sure, even for faeries. Mosquitos don’t care who you are. We went through a can of bug spray while we were there, but it was worth it. I’m glad to be back, though. And doubly glad you guys built the whole faerie addition, too. Now maybe I can get my mom and aunties to come on vacation with me.”
I raised a brow at her and nodded to Bob as he set a rollup of silverware and a condiment caddy in front of me. “I thought you and your mom didn’t get along?”
She’d once told me that her mother, an ancient fae by any rational yardstick, didn’t approve of her footloose-and-fancy-free approach to life.
“Maybe if I can get her away from the village, she’ll understand why I don’t want to be at home all the time. She didn’t use to be such a homebody.” A shadow crossed over her pixie-shaped face. “I miss doing things with her.”
Bob looked at me, and I nodded. Blake was running a promotion for our VIPs to celebrate the grand opening, and Cyri certainly qualified as that. He reached under the register and pulled out an envelope.
“Would it just be you, Aiden, and your mom?” he asked.
“And my stepdad,” she replied. “They’re joined at the hip, which is okay with me. Mom can be a little scatterbrained. That’s not unusual for a faerie as old as she is because we tend to become less focused on transient issues as we age.” She gave a wry smile. “The whole connected to nature thing brings the big picture into sharper focus, but it also blurs the beauty of living in the moment.”
I snorted. “And I can’t make plans for next week because I’m afraid something will come up.”
Bob pulled a voucher from the envelope and wrote her name on it, then handed it over. “This might help get her here. It’s a voucher for a weekend’s free stay in the new Fae-focused cottages. Blake wants some feedback before he throws too much into promoting it in case it needs some tweaks.”
“Cool!” Cyri replied, grinning and taking the voucher from him. “Can I use it any time?”
“Sure, but obviously, the sooner the better,” I said. “If there are any major changes needed, we’d rather know now.”
“Thanks, then!” she replied, smiling as she tucked it into her beach bag. “That’s really cool of y’all. I’ll call her tonight and convince her.”
The word-of-mouth advertising would be good considering we weren’t exactly on Yelp. A paranormal resort targeted exclusively at supernatural beings wasn’t exactly the ideal business model for mainstream advertising methods. Considering the capital we’d invested in the expansions, we needed them to do well right out of the gate in order to show our investors it was the right move.
“Excuse me,” a low voice said from behind me.
I turned and found myself staring at a bare belly button set in a shapely if oversized midriff. Tilting my head, my gaze traveled up, then up some more. It looked like our first giant guests had arrived.
Chapter 2
“Hi,” I said, smiling at the giant woman. “I’m Destiny. Can I help you with something?”
Her expression was pleasant, and I tried not to stare. She was one of the first giants I’d ever seen. They didn’t tend to come to public places because of the sheer inconvenience. Seats that are too small, door openings and ceilings that are too low, and restaurant portions that are, without a doubt, not good for much more than a snack for people their size probably didn’t make for an enjoyable vacation.
“I hope so,” she said, shoving a lock of dark hair off her angular face as she glanced over her shoulder to check on a couple oversized kids. “I was wondering if you sold sunscreen here. I seem to have lost mine, and with this complexion, I’ll be one big blister in a matter of half an hour.”
She had a faint accent, but the closest I could guess was English or maybe Irish. It wasn’t exactly a brogue, but it wasn’t the same as you’d expect from the Queen of England, either. I’d met her in person when she’d visited the resort several months back.
“Of course,” I said, turning to Bob. He’d already plucked a large bottle from beneath the bar where we kept an extra supply for just such situations. He handed it to me, and I gave it to her. “We get that a lot.”
“Thanks,” she said with a small smile. Though her features were squarer than a human’s, it worked for her. It didn’t hurt that she looked great in the bikini, though again, she didn’t have the traditional hourglass figure.
“This is all new to us. We’re not used to people being so accommodating.” She motioned to the sturdier, oversized tables and chairs that we’d integrated into the patio dining area. “You’ve gone out of your way to think of everything, at least so far. We’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Where are y’all from?” Cyri asked. “I have to admit, you’re the first giant I’ve ever met. You’re taller than I expected. And prettier.”
The thing about Cyri that I appreciated most was her guileless honesty. It was one of her defining traits, but sometimes it worked against her because she said pretty much whatever flitted through her mind. Since I wasn’t sure how sensitive giants tended to be, I was a little anxious to see how she reacted.
After a couple of weighted seconds, the woman burst out laughing. “You’re the first faerie I’ve ever seen, too. For some reason, I was expecting Tinkerbell, so you’re about five feet taller than I expected, too. You do look a little like her, though.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Tethra, and I’m from Northern England. Well, I’m technically from Colorado, but my husband’s British. We live there now.”
Cyri reached out and took her hand and I smiled at the size difference. Though Tethra’s long-fingered hand was almost identical in appearance to Cyri’s, her grip swallowed the faerie’s tiny one almost to her forearm.
“Are those your kids?” I asked, motioning toward the two large boys skimboarding along the water’s edge.
“Yeah,” she said, her gray eyes sparkling with pride. “They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Well, at least ninety-five percent of the time. Anyway, I better get down there and make sure they don’t break their legs on those things. Thanks for the sunscreen.”
; “No problem,” I replied. “It was nice to meet you.”
Cyri and Bob echoed my sentiment, then Tethra picked her way around tables and chairs on her way to the beach.
“Well that was encouraging,” Bob said after she was out of earshot. “She didn’t have a single bad thing to say about us.”
“No, she didn’t,” I said, my chest swelling a little with pride. “We may just have a success on our hands after all.”
“Looks that way,” Cyri replied, taking a long draw from her drink. “But now to the important part. What’s today’s lunch special?”
“Cheeseburger in Paradise,” Bob replied, reaching across the bar to wipe up the puddle of water that had gathered under my drink. He shoved my coaster toward me with a pointed look. “It’s got—”
Cyri waved him off, smiling. “Yeah, I’ve heard the song and had pretty much everything on the menu, so I won’t make you burst into verse. I’ll take it. Add a couple sliced of extra-crispy bacon and an extra pickle wedge, please.”
Bob grinned and twirled the ends of his waxed handlebar mustache. “Easy to please and knowledgeable. My favorite traits in a guest.”
“Don’t forget charming and a great tipper,” Cyri said, returning his smile.
“That, too. Lemme put that in for you.” He turned and lumbered back to the register.
While he was doing that, a forty-ish woman wearing a big floppy hat, spendy sunglasses, and a gauzy peach swimsuit coverup stepped up to the bar and hooked her straw beach bag onto the back of a stool. She gave me a stranger-smile as she took a seat, and I returned it.
“Nice hat,” Tempest said. I couldn’t tell from her tone if she was being nice or sarcastic because she was hungry.
“Thanks,” the woman said giving her a genuine smile. “You have beautiful eyes! I’d kill for those lashes.”
Regardless of whether or not Tempest had started off being snarky, the woman had just earned her way into my vain little fox’s graces.
“Thanks,” Tempest replied, batting said lashes. I had to admit I agreed with the woman—they were ridiculously long and thick. “Is this your first time to the resort? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”