by Wendy Owens
She laughs at me. “No, silly, your charm … as in your Phoenix charm.”
“Okay, I give, what’s my Phoenix charm?” I ask, moving aside so a balding gentleman can enter the building.
She pulls me farther from the door, then whispers, “You can compel people.”
“Compel them to do what?” I inquire, confused.
“Whatever you want. I mean, within reason.”
“Wait, back up—what are you talking about?”
“Wow, you really don’t know anything, do you?”
“Shut up and enlighten me already.”
Piper waves her hands defensively. “All right, all right, don’t get all crazy on me. A Phoenix has the ability to compel someone to do things they want them to, but like I said, only within reason. Like, you can’t compel someone to do something that goes against his or her survival instincts, like jumping off a bridge, for example. Basically, you can charm them into doing things you want.”
“How does it work?” Now my interest is peaked.
“Depends on the Fae and how they respond to you. Some Fae have to be touched, others, it’s in the way you look at them.”
“No way!” I exclaim, reaching out and taking hold of her arm. “Let me try on you.” She quickly swipes my hand away.
“Hell no! A Phoenix can really mess up a human if they do that mind voodoo on them too many times,” Piper protests.
“But it does work on humans?”
“Well, yeah, but our brains aren’t wired like yours. If you mess around with it too much, we can end up cracking up. So unless you want to figure out all this stuff on your own, I suggest you don’t go around charming me.”
“So how do I know if it will work on the treasure troll?”
“The more cunning a Fae, the more likely it won’t work.”
“Wait, so my power only works on idiots? That sucks.” I sigh.
“I didn’t say that; it just doesn’t work on some Fae, so be careful,” she advises.
“Fine.” I look through the glass and catch a glimpse of a large guard sitting behind the main desk. His features resemble that of a bull. “Is that…” I pause, and wait for Piper to look through the glass.
“He’s a minotaur. Great, they’re so moody.”
“Let me,” I offer, rubbing my hands together rapidly, then I walk over and pull open the large door.
“Tynder, wait! You don’t know what you’re—” It’s too late. By the time she catches up with me, I’m standing in front of the bull-like creature.
“What’s your kind doing here?” he grunts at me, and I remember Fae can recognize me as a Magistrate.
“My friend and I have an appointment to see Mr. Trunkwater,” I begin.
“Name?” He narrows his gaze at me, holding a clipboard in his hand.
I lean over the counter, gently run my fingers along his arm, and, staring him in the eyes, I say, “See, our names are right there.”
I’m pointing at nothing, just staring at him intensely, hoping he’s not about to pick me up and throw me out onto the street with his big strong arms. I feel my fingertips tingle, and my stomach does a quick flip back in on itself.
“Oh yeah, there you are,” he answers softly before handing us two visitor badges and pointing us in the direction of the elevator.
As soon as we are around the corner, and out of sight, I grab Piper’s arm and nearly squeal in delight. “Oh my God, it worked. That was amazing!” She’s smiling.
Leaning forward, I press the elevator UP button, and almost immediately the doors open. As they glide in front of us I catch my reflection at the back of the empty car. I’m drawn to the image, one step and then another, until I’m staring at myself, the mirror only inches away from my face. My eyes are glowing a golden color.
“My eyes!” I cry. Piper lunges forward and presses the button for top floor before turning to me.
“You’re okay … it happens when you use your abilities,” she explains.
“Does it go back?”
“Eventually, but don’t worry, only other Fae can see it.”
“Great, that’s so comforting,” I groan. I scream when I see my fingernails and the red veining climbing up them. “And this?” I bark, now terrified.
“Same thing, a side effect, but it will fade in a few minutes,” she assures me. I grip the wall of the elevator, my head spinning wildly. “Come on, pull it together, we’re almost—”
A ding of the elevator cuts her off, and, as the doors open, a gentleman steps on, then a few floors later he steps out, and we’re alone again.
Pull it together, I think about her words. I always have it together; I never come unraveled. What the hell is the matter with me? Part of me had to know this world existed. There is no way Joe was that good of a liar. Is all of this really that much of a shock? All those books he had laying around while I was growing up … Desmond’s magic tricks … nobody is that good.
“Are you ready?” she asks as the floor numbers light up. We’re one away.
“I’ve got this,” I say, more to convince myself than her.
With one last ding of the bell, I watch as the elevator doors slide open again. My heart is racing, but my breathing stays even and steady. I exit, my heels clicking against the rich walnut-colored wooden floors.
We approach a large half-moon-shaped reception area. A slender blonde woman is sitting behind the desk, wearing a slim-fitting blazer, and her hair is pulled back into a tight and neat ponytail. Her high cheekbones are so perfect they are almost distracting. I wonder if she is some sort of Fae creature.
“Welcome to Trunkwater Financial, can I help you?” she asks, glancing me up and down. I’m wearing my signature look of all black and leather. A look that tells people not to mess with me and that I know what to do with what is underneath these layers of clothing.
I lean across the table, but the woman is too far away for me to reach. I narrow my gaze and instruct her, “Take me to see Walter Trunkwater.”
She doesn’t seem impressed. “Do you have an appointment?”
I look over at Piper, who shrugs. Glancing back at the woman, I decide to try again.
I shake my head. “You must have not heard me. I need to see Walter Trunkwater.”
“I heard you, and I asked if you had an appointment. If not, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, and you can call to schedule a time to see Mr. Trunkwater.”
Piper moves forward, and softly suggests, “If you could just tell Mr. Trunkwater that a Ms. Crown is here to see him, I think he may want to squeeze us in.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
“Patricia, it’s all right,” a man’s voice calls from the left.
“Sir, I was just informing these ladies they would need an appointment,” the blonde woman stammers nervously.
“It’s fine, I’ll see them,” he replies.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Trunkwater.”
I look in his direction, my mouth falling open. “Walter Trunkwater?”
“The one and only.” He grins and opens the large frosted glass door, beckoning for us to join him. I don’t hesitate, and Piper follows closely behind me.
As I pass him, I can’t stop staring. His skin shimmers as though it’s made up of rubies and emeralds, with a metallic pearl sheen on the top layer. His eyes glow a brilliant blue, and his dark hair falls perfectly on his chiseled jaw line. ‘Troll’ is the last word I would use to describe him. His suit is obviously expensive and perfectly tailored to his lean physique.
He shows us into an office where two modern leather chairs await us. Taking a seat across from us, he looks at Piper and then at me before asking, “So what brings a Royal Magistrate into my office?”
I give a half smile. “My name is Tynder Crown, I’m the granddaughter of—”
“Josiah Crown. Everyone knows who the great Josiah Crown is,” he interjects, and I feel myself blush. “I was unaware he had a granddaughter, though.”
“It ends up a
lot of people were unaware of my existence,” I mutter.
“That’s a crime in itself. I am sorry to hear about his death,” Walter offers. I’m not sure if it’s the flirtation or mixing it with condolences that makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. I’m not ready to start thinking about Joe and what happened to him. The only thing I can focus on is this case and eventually looking for clues about who betrayed him.
“I’m here with questions that need answering,” I say directly.
“Excuse me? Is this official business? Should I have my house representation?”
“What she means is you could have valuable information to help us with an open case,” Piper quickly jumps in with damage control.
“I see,” he begins, watching me intensely. I don’t look away from him; I won’t allow him to intimidate me, no matter how much money he is worth, or how sexy I find his eyes. “I’m not sure what on earth I could help with, but I’m happy to extend a hand in any way you might need.”
“I bet you are. Terg Zurank seems to think you can be very enlightening in helping us crack this case wide open.” I waste no time revealing the reason we’re here. The longer I have to look at him, the sooner I might let my curiosity get the better of me as to what he looks like without that suit on.
He laughs, folding his fingers into one another, placing them on top of his glass desk. “I’m sure he does.”
“So you don’t deny you know who he is,” I snap.
“Of course I know him. He’s been trying to compete with me since we were kids. Paranoid little man, he never could get past himself long enough to be truly successful in life,” he explains.
“Not like you,” I sarcastically interject.
“No, not like me. I understand business is just that, nothing personal.”
“Sounds like the two of you weren’t on the best of terms. Is that why you stole from him?” I press.
Walter laughs. “Sweetheart, Terg has nothing I would ever bother with stealing.”
“You just called me sweetheart.” I’m stating the obvious. Everything in me wants to lodge my knee into his pelvis, but I manage to resist the initial urge.
“It was better than the first name that came to mind,” he replies smoothly.
“Look, asshole—” I bark, leaping to my feet.
Piper doesn’t hesitate; she is right there with a hand on my chest, holding me back from letting my temper get the better of me.
“I’m telling you, whatever Terg says I was involved in, he’s mistaken,” Walter assures us.
“We haven’t even told you what he has accused you of, so how do you know he’s wrong?” I ask, leaning around the side of Piper, who isn’t budging.
“Unless whatever he accused me of happened in Dubai, then he’s mistaken.” He grins, watching me for a reaction.
“I don’t understand,” Piper states, looking at him, while keeping a hand on me at all times.
“I’ve been in Dubai on business for three weeks now. My flight just got in this morning.”
I’m speechless. Our only lead and it’s out the window.
“Is there a way we can verify your story?” Piper continues, always one to ensure the details are looked to.
“Of course, my secretary can provide you with any of the information you need.” Walter looks to me, but I still say nothing. “I hope you find your man, Ms. Crown.”
His smug smile sends surges through me, and I can’t decide if I want to slap that smirk off his face or rip his clothes off and kiss him. I squirm as a heat rises up inside me, aching between my legs. I decide to focus on my hatred rather than my lust.
“Oh, I will,” I huff, leaving the room without another word. Piper offers her apologies to him and rushes to catch up. She knows better than to say a single word to me as we wait for the elevator. Perhaps this Royal Magistrate business isn’t going to be as easy as I first assumed.
“LOOK, YOU LITTLE WEASEL, YOU either meet us at your place, or I’ll report back to The Council that you made a false accusation against one of the most successful men in the city. I’m sure they would love to throw the book at you for trying to put one of the richest Fae in the world in the hot seat,” I’m nearly shouting into the phone.
Terg is still sleeping at my place. It’s only thanks to Piper’s keen questioning and organizational skills that she got pertinent information from him, such as his cell phone number and address. But the address he gave us was bogus. When we knocked on the door, a lovely family answered and seemed very confused.
“I told you, I’m not leaving this place until you solve my case. Did you arrest that slimy bastard?”
“I’m not joking around here, you little turd. Where do you really live?” I demand, ignoring him.
“Do you need me to talk to him?” Piper asks nervously, pacing back and forth in front of me.
“I’ve got this,” I say, covering the receiver.
“Fine, I’ll give you the right address, but I don’t see what good it will do. I already told you who took my stash.”
“Address, now, toad!”
“515 Orchard Lane, on the south side, over by Susie’s Diner.”
“I know the place,” I answer.
“Don’t touch any of my—” I hang up the phone before he can finish his statement.
“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing my jacket and rushing out the front door of Josiah’s office. Piper scurries after me, and I hear her locking the door as I flag down a cab.
“Where are we going?” she asks, panting as she moves in next to me.
A dingy, pale yellow cab stops in front of us. I lean down and see a very furry-looking man behind the wheel. I stand up and look back at Piper. “Jesus, are all cab drivers Fae?”
“Most cabbies are, yes.” She shrugs as if it’s common knowledge.
We climb in, and I instruct the driver where to go. Turning to Piper, I explain my logic, “Obviously Terg has some sort of vendetta against Walter Trunkwater. We need to go back to the scene of the crime, the place where the treasure was stolen.”
“Hey, are you guys working on a case right here, in my cab?” the driver asks.
I roll my eyes and grumble in a disgusted tone, “Shut up and drive, all right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answers swiftly. It’s unsettling to me that when I bark orders at a complete stranger, they actually listen to me, rather than tell me to go to hell. I’m not sure if I like it or if it completely weirds me out.
“So what exactly are we looking for?” Piper asks, glancing sheepishly at the driver, then back in my direction.
“I don’t know, maybe there was never even a treasure to begin with,” I think out loud.
“Why would Terg lie?”
“I have no idea … That’s a good question,” I answer, huffing and flopping back on the filthy upholstered seats. A cloud of dusts rises up into the air, and we both cover our mouths in disgust.
“One thing is for certain,” I continue, “it doesn’t matter if there’s a treasure or if there never was, Terg is not a reliable source of information.”
“So what’s your plan?” she asks.
“You still don’t know me very well, do you? I don’t do plans,” I inform her, shaking my head.
She grimaces. “You know, you could try being a little nicer to people. I’ve found the nicer you are, the more likely they are to cooperate.”
“How about you do it your way, and I’ll do it my way,” I suggest. Pulling out payment for the driver, I wait for the car to come to a stop, then shove it through the little box, sling open the door, and jump out.
I peer around at our surroundings. There is a club over on Vine I used to frequent with an ex-boyfriend. Looking at the filthy, trash-lined streets, I suddenly remember why I stopped coming here after we split. “Are you sure this is safe?” Piper asks, moving in close to my body.
“It is for me; you said I was nearly invincible,” I reply and walk down the block toward the neon light of Susie’s Diner.
Piper is on my heels like a puppy, making sure the gap between us never widens.
“A little space won’t kill you,” I suggest, turning and facing the blue door with the number 515 scrolled across the top of it in dried paint. I reach out and turn the knob, commenting, “Damn, it’s locked.”
“Here, let me,” Piper begins, pushing me aside. Pulling out a small stick she has concealed inside her inner jacket pocket, I watch in amazement as she flicks her wrist and commands “Recludo.” And the door pops open.
“How did you do that?” I gasp, but she smiles at me and wastes no time entering the small apartment.
I follow, closing the door behind me and switching on the lights. “Seriously,” I continue, “how in the hell did you do that?”
“I’m a Witch, remember?”
“You can actually do stuff? I just kind of thought it was what you called yourself, or maybe you were really into herbs or something.”
She laughs. “Nope, actual magic. But herbs can be very helpful.”
“That’s amazing,” I proclaim, but it’s clear I’m making her uncomfortable. I look around the small apartment and note, “No wonder he didn’t want to leave my crap-hole studio … this place is an absolute dump. So, why, if a goblin has a treasure, does he live in a place like this?”
Piper shakes her head, walking around the room and looking at every little detail. “They all do. Goblins are notoriously cheap. He could have had a fortune and just never wanted to spend a penny of it. After all, you’re only as rich as what you possess.”
“That’s stupid; who would think like that?” I grumble.
“Terg,” she suggests.
“God, that smell, it’s like permanently attached to any place he goes,” I remark, covering my nose and mouth.
“Goblins aren’t exactly known for their hygiene.”
“Let’s just look around, and get the hell out of here as fast as we can,” I snarl.
I start in the kitchen, looking through all of the cabinets and drawers for any sign of this supposed treasure. From the corner of my eye I see Piper head through a door to what I can only assume is Terg’s bedroom. Shifting into the living room, I begin tossing the junk around, the smell churning my stomach wildly. The stuff this guy holds on to … bottle caps, a box of thousands of keys—it’s like he’s never thrown anything away.