by Sarah Noffke
“Do you really think that could work?” Rudolf asked, opening his can of beer.
Liv nodded, doing the same. “Of course, it could. You’d be surprised who people are when you allow them to do what they want.” A second later, she added, “Within reason.”
Rudolf took a sip. “I just thought my people were looking at me to give them something.”
“They are,” she reasoned. “They want leadership, resources, and support. What they don’t need is you telling them they must garden their own vegetables and only eat vegan food.” She took a drink of the beer and spat it out. “Why is this warm?”
“It supposed to taste better like that,” Rudolf answered.
Liv shoved the can of beer at him. “Seriously, do what feels good, not what some dumb culture of pretentious hipsters says is right.” She glanced around at the decorations. “Do you actually like the way this place looks?”
Rudolf gave her a guilty expression. “Not really. And my desk is super uncomfortable. And this beard itches horribly.”
“Then will you please get rid of it all and decorate this place the way you like it, rather than how some supposed ‘cool kids’ think it should look?”
“Okay, you’re right,” Rudolf said as Serena trotted over, casting a questioning look at the chicken.
“I think one of those pigeons from the roof got in,” the mortal said.
“That’s a chicken,” Liv corrected.
Serena gave her a fake smile. “It’s so good to see you again, Liv. I’m happy you’re here because Rudolf told me that I should be since you helped us mend things when we had a fight before the coronation.”
“Wow,” Liv said with zero inflection. “That didn’t seem at all rehearsed.”
Serena flipped her long brown hair off her shoulder. “And I don’t hate you for constantly coming around and flaunting your supposed magical powers and prestige as a soldier for the Hut of Seven.”
“You do realize that you’re using your out-loud voice again, right?” Liv asked the mortal.
She merely blinked back at her.
“And my magical powers aren’t supposed,” Liv began. “And I’m a Warrior for the House of Seven, but that’s a lot for you to remember, so we’ll take it in chunks. Can you say ‘warrior?’”
As if she couldn’t, Serena shook her head, giving her attention to Rudolf. “The water company called and said that replacing the taps with champagne probably won’t work.”
“Hold up,” Liv said, stepping forward. “You’re trying to do what?”
Serena shot her a hostile expression. “Rudolf said I can implement a few of my ideas.”
“Because I encouraged him not to shut you down,” Liv argued, trying to get the dimwit to see her logic.
“So you say,” Serena responded. “Anyway, I have three projects I’m trying to push through. One is for an energy source that can be found underground. I’m thinking we can use it to fuel our vehicles.”
“It’s called oil, and it’s already been done,” Liv stated dryly.
“Then I’d like to replace the water in our pipes with champagne,” Serena went on.
“Which has so many issues, I can’t even figure out where to start,” Liv said.
“And if I have time, I’d like to implement brand-new cold fusion technology into all the casinos. It could save the electrical power plants over ninety percent every single year,” Serena said, mostly sounding bored.
“Yes!” Liv cheered. “Now you have an idea. Go with that one! Do it.”
Suddenly looking excited by Liv’s reaction, Serena smiled. “If you like that idea, I also had one where we’d replace the lights in the hotel bathrooms with tanning lamps. That way, our guests can get a tan while they are getting ready. Pretty ingenious, huh?”
Liv let out a defeated breath. “I really wished you would have stopped while you were ahead, but I get that not all ideas can be gold.”
“Serena has many, many more,” Rudolf said proudly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“All of which should be checked by me first,” Liv stated. “As one of your trusted advisors, I think you should give me the responsibility of reviewing all of these before they are implemented.”
“You’re not going to steal them, are you?” Serena asked with a glare.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Liv stated, pointing at the chicken. “Have you had a chance to meet Scientist? I bet she’d like to hear about your ideas.”
Serena did a double-take at the chicken. “Is that what scientists look like? I’ve never met one before.” She leaned forward, cupping her mouth to whisper to the side. “To be honest, I thought that was a type of bird.”
Liv gave her a mock expression of shock. “No!”
Serena nodded. “I did. But I’ll totally go and share my ideas with the scientist.”
“If she squawks, it means to keep talking,” Liv yelled to Serena as the mortal strode in the chicken’s direction.
“She really is something special,” Rudolf said, smiling at the mortal as she retreated.
“She’s very special,” Liv agreed.
“So speaking of ideas,” Rudolf began, “I’ve started a few corporations. I’d like to get out of the gambling business and invest our resources into making the fae’s fortunes, centered around a foodie conglomeration.”
“Say what?” Liv asked.
“Well, gambling and overindulgence were the central pillars of the fae’s culture.”
“Which is how the Las Vegas Strip came to be,” Liv added.
“Exactly,” Rudolf agreed. “However, like we’ve talked about, I want my people to use their talents. I was thinking we could create a line of keto-friendly power bars and then branch out from there. Low-carb chips, no-calorie wine, and maybe cake that impregnates.”
“Again, I’m going to need this list of ideas,” Liv stated. “However, I like them, for the most part. I think healthful eating should be encouraged. And mortals will eat up keto-friendly products.”
Rudolf gave her a disappointed look. “I don’t approve of the pun.”
“Seriously, you of all people are against my jokes now?” Liv asked. “I really can’t win with anyone.”
Liv thought her eyes were deceiving her when a giant she recognized strode through the door behind Rudolf’s desk. “Rory? What are you doing here?”
Chapter Seventeen
Thankfully the giant wasn’t wearing a dumb beard or a tank top. He appeared like his normal self. However, Liv was instantly worried that he had a fever and was lost and disoriented.
His eyes glanced up from a folder in his hands. He appeared a bit lost. “Liv, what are you doing here?”
“I’m trying to get Rudolf’s help with the chicken, who apparently wants to be called Scientist,” Liv stated, pointing at the bird.
Rory glanced over to where Serena was incessantly babbling to the bird. “Oh, so you still don’t know her name.”
“I know she’s a magician from Italy, so I’m making progress,” Liv explained. “Now, what are you doing here? Did Rudolf drug and abduct you? He only did that to me once.”
Rudolf covered his face. “I can’t believe you broke my nose. I simply wanted to surprise you.”
“I don’t like waking up on the floor of a speakeasy hours before they’re supposed to open,” Liv explained.
Rudolf huffed. “I know that now. But that’s how you ensure you get the best places in a busy joint.”
Liv shook this off and focused on Rory. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
“I’m helping Rudolf with his new corporation,” Rory answered.
Liv’s brow scrunched up. “How? Why? I actually have so many questions right now that my head is about to explode.”
“Well, Ronald’s specialty is something we’re in desperate need of,” Rudolf stated.
“His name is Rory,” Liv corrected. “And specialty?”
Rory elbowed the fae. “She doesn’t know what I do for a liv
ing because she doesn’t pay attention.”
“Oh, my God!” Liv complained. “I’ve been battling madmen in ancient Roman ruins and slaughtering demons so you all can lollygag, but I get in trouble for not paying attention to some details about your profession that I believe you’ve yet to give.”
Rudolf rolled his eyes, giving the giant a commiserating expression. “She doesn’t know anything about me either. I had to tell her I was the king of this empire.”
“I was there when you defeated Queen Visa and were automatically appointed,” Liv stated, frustration evident in her tone.
“She’s always got excuses,” Rudolf stated, taking the report out of Rory’s hand. “Oh, I see what you’ve done here. I like it.”
Rory turned the report around. “It’s upside-down.”
Rudolf frowned. “Well, now it makes zero sense.”
“Seriously, Ronald, what are you helping with? Just tell me what your profession is,” Liv said.
“I’m helping the fae with their newest business ventures,” Rory stated simply.
“By doing?” Liv encouraged.
“Rocket science, or so it seems,” Rudolf told her, shutting the report folder. “Good work, my giant friend. You may take one or two of my fae as one of your servants.”
“Rudolf…” Liv said in a punishing tone.
“Okay, you can’t have them. But I’ll pay you for your services if that’s at all acceptable,” Rudolf amended.
“Yes, that’s fine,” Rory stated. “I’ll set it up so it goes to my offshore account and isn’t traceable, like all the other transmissions from the fae.”
“Why do I feel like I’m in a weird, wacky funhouse?” Liv asked.
“You didn’t drink the tap water, did you?” Rudolf asked, sudden concern in his voice. “We might have experimented with some things before Serena had the awesome idea for champagne water.”
“That wasn’t a good idea,” Liv corrected.
“Right,” Rudolf stated. “I remember that now. Anyway, before she’d had me magick a hair straightener into the water supply so that everyone could have smooth locks. Then we remembered that people drink the water and not just shower in it. We’re working on fixing it.”
“Yeah, that’s a hard thing to remember,” Liv stated.
“So you had a request for me, my bestie?” Rudolf asked.
Liv scratched her head, having strangely forgotten her reason for subjecting herself to all this irritation. She caught sight of the chicken. “Oh, yeah. That’s right. I need you to make a decree that one of your fae, a Mr. Phillippe Foggerbottom, does what I ask.”
Rudolf’s face lit up. “Oh, a little dating experiment. I knew you’d want to play the field sooner or later. But you’re okay-looking, so I’m sure you don’t have to make me force a fae to go out with you. Well, okay, maybe a fae, but not a magician. They are pretty desperate.”
Liv lowered her chin, thinking she should have expected this. “I need the fae to turn the scientist chicken back into its normal form.”
“And then go out with you?” Rudolf asked.
“Nope,” Liv answered. “I’m not looking for a date at all.”
“So this visit was purely business?” Rudolf sounded disappointed.
“Yes, why?” Liv asked.
“Well, I was just hoping… It’s fine,” Rudolf stated. “But I can’t help you unless you agree to do something for me.”
“Wait,” Liv complained. “You said you were done with these agreements. I didn’t think I’d be indebted to you for favors anymore.”
“Well, you were wrong,” Rudolf corrected.
Liv felt the heat boiling to the surface. “Rudolf Sweetwater, I’ve had just about as much of your bullshit as I can take!”
All the fae in the room turned to watch the spectacle. Liv was just about to stomp on Rudolf’s blindingly white Converse shoes when he held up his hand. “I was simply going to request that you be my best man at my wedding. I’m sorry if that’s me asking too much. I’ll do whatever you need with no requests.”
Liv halted. Tilted her head to the side. “You get that I’m not a man, right?”
He waved her off. “You haven’t gotten there yet. I see a future, though, where you embrace—”
“Don’t finish that sentence or I’ll turn you inside-out using a potato peeler,” Liv stated.
He nodded. “And yes, I’d like you to be my best man at my wedding. Please say you’ll do it.”
Liv considered that. It would probably be something she regretted, but as she looked into Rudolf’s blue eyes, she couldn’t say no. “Yeah, fine. I’ll do it.”
He snapped his fingers, a rolled-up piece of parchment materializing. “And as always, I’ll always fulfill your request. Unless it requires me taking it up the—”
“I request that you not finish that sentence.” Liv plucked the decree from his fingers.
Chapter Eighteen
Liv waited for Papa Creola to send Phillippe Foggerbottom’s information to her codex. For being the Father of Time, he wasn’t really punctual about things.
“So, are you excited to get your body back?” Liv asked the chicken as they sat in a rooftop bar overlooking the Strip. She couldn’t stand one more minute in that industrial hipster palace. Rory had buzzed off, mumbling something about drafting some reports, and Rudolf had said it was time for his morning headstand. He wouldn’t listen to reason when Liv told him it was midafternoon. That was when she’d decided she could use some fresh air and a shot of whiskey while she waited for Father “Takes His Time.”
The chicken, who didn’t appear comfortable occupying a barstool at the busy venue, simply glanced around. Liv wasn’t at all put off by the man-children with too much testosterone jockeying for the attention of one of the many girls wearing too much makeup and hair extensions. Maybe the whiskey was making it easier for Liv to tolerate the mouth-breathers who usually put her on edge when they were too close.
Liv felt the rush of something breeze by her head. A second later, a blade with an ivory handle stuck in the wall behind the bar.
“There you are, Warrior!” someone yelled. “Prepare to die.”
The crowd around Liv dispersed at once. Still, she hardly did more than blink. Giving the chicken a casual expression, she picked up her whiskey. “Would you mind hopping behind this bar while I take care of some trash?”
The chicken didn’t answer, only jumped up on the bar and disappeared over the other side.
If only everyone would be so cooperative, Liv thought as she took a sip of her drink. Damn, it was good whiskey, and she sort of wanted to finish it, but it wasn’t the kind you slammed. Hopefully, this jerk who was standing at her back wouldn’t take long to kill. She wiped the side of her mouth, conscious that mortals were staring at her from a distance, probably wondering why she wasn’t reacting immediately to the threat at her back. The reason was simple. Whoever was behind her didn’t want to put a knife in her back. That was evident by the expert skills he’d used to throw the knife. No, whoever this was wanted to look at her in the eyes when he killed her. Too bad for him that he was going to die first.
Liv set down her half-drunk whiskey, her other hand sliding instinctively to Bellator. Pushing back the barstool, Liv pulled the sword from its sheath in one fluid movement.
The figure standing squarely in front of her, only fifteen feet away, wasn’t someone she’d encountered before. He was an elf with long whitish-green hair who looked about Liv’s age, although he was probably several hundred years old. Damn elves and their anti-aging properties.
The elf wore beautiful leather armor, a clunky belt, and riding boots. One of his hands was resting on the hilt of the sword
as he stood casually, one foot in front of the other.
He was actually sort of cute, with his mirrored green eyes and high cheekbones. Well, he would be cute, but there was that whole trying to kill me thing, Liv thought.
His hand flexed by his side as his lips spread in
a long line, he said, “You’ve been looking for me, haven’t you?”
Liv’s eyes darted up and to the right as she thought. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, here I finally am.” With practiced grace, the elf swung the sword up, tossing it to his other hand. It came across, meeting Bellator in midair.
“Who exactly are you?” Liv asked between measured breaths, blocking the next two attacks.
The elf cackled, looking around at the crowd like they might join in with him. “As if you don’t know.”
Liv shoved the elf back but he made up the space quickly. “No, seriously I don’t know.”
As if fighting her was barely keeping him awake, the elf sauntered to the right, bringing his sword dangerously close to Liv’s face. “You’ve spent all this effort to track me down, and now you pretend as if you don’t know who I am.”
Instead of slicing her face off, the elf merely grabbed her by the back of her jacket and launched her into a pair of chairs next to the pool. “Are you the one who made Inexorabilis?”
“What?” the elf asked in response, slicing his blade through the air. Liv rolled to the side just before it struck the table next to her.
The elf struggled to pull the sword back out since it had gone all the way through the table, catching in the metal legs. She used this moment to kick the elves’ legs out from underneath him. He landed on his backside but quickly recovered, springing straight to his feet.
“Seriously, mister,” Liv stated, stepping sideways as the elf copied her movement. “I don’t know who you are.”
“Oh, Warrior, I know it is you who has been asking around about me,” the elf said.
Liv was about to attack while he was weaponless, but in a flash he ran forward, grabbing the hilt of his protruding sword. In a beautiful display of power, he ran up the side of a chair, still holding onto the sword and back-flipped around, yanking the blade free. The elf landed on the edge of the table, making it tilt forward, while he ran down it like a ramp, whipping his sword back and forth, craziness radiating from his mirrored eyes.