by Tegan Maher
I listed them off, and he chose one. Shooting a mischievous wink at Evan, he turned back to me and grinned. "Make it four. And water too, please."
The other two laughed and high-fived and Evan gave in, though he didn't look happy about it. I handed them menus, then poured their beers as they bellied up to the bar.
"So what brings you guys to the Enchanted Coast?" I asked.
One of them spoke up, motioning to Evan. "He's finally found his mate and is getting married next week. We're here for one final hoorah before one of us is no longer footloose and fancy free."
"You better watch, or you'll be next, Cedric." Evan told him, then glanced toward the quiet one at the end of the bar. "Same goes for you, Kalan. It would do you good."
"Not me, man," Kalan said. "I'm not ready for that."
"Pht," Cedric said, shooting him a look that implied he'd lost his mind. "There's too much of this man to expect just one woman to handle."
The only one left who hadn't spoken snorted. "More like too much to expect one woman to tolerate."
Cedric tossed a coaster at him. "Watch it, Dain. I know of one leggy brunette in particular who seems to have caught your eye the last couple of days. Could be you're the next one in line."
Dain scowled at him and his amber eyes darkened by a shade. "Don't be an idiot. You know that's just a flirtation. ’Twould be folly to think otherwise."
"Why?" Evan asked. "As the fourth son, you're free to marry whomever you choose. I'm the only who has to marry within our clan."
"Tis likely they'd expect me to stay within my own race, though, or at least stick with a woman with a heartbeat." He began peeling his coaster apart and the thunderous expression on his face told me his brother had hit a nerve.
"Is the bride and her party here too?" I asked to break the tension.
"Oh no," Kalan said. "It's just us. No womenfolk allowed on this trip."
I rolled my eyes at his used of womenfolk, and he gave me a sideways glance. "What? It's better than little women."
"Not by much," I said, quirking a brow and refilling his water.
"See Kalan," Cedric said, "that's why you're single. You can't be a Neanderthal. These days, it's the woman who hits you with the club and drags you back to her cave."
Kalan huffed a breath out his nose. "Not in this lifetime!" His amethyst eyes reflected both horror and humor at the same time.
I grinned and lifted a carefree shoulder. "Don't knock it 'til you try it!"
The others burst out laughing, then as other guests trickled in, I lost track of the conversation. They finished their beers and asked for the check and the last I saw of them, they were headed toward the ocean, surfboards in tow. The gulf wasn't much known for waves because it's basically a big basin, so I closed my eyes and conjured some waves for them at the far end of the beach, where they wouldn't bother those who were shelling or strolling in the surf.
After all, at the Enchanted Coast, our goal was to give all our guests top-notch experiences. Unfortunately, murder was on the menu for that day, though I had no way of knowing that in advance.
CHAPTER THREE
"NEAT TRICK," A GRUFF voice behind me said. "You know Amber and Dax are gonna be at the water bar raising Cain in a minute because their kids can hear that from a mile away."
I turned and grinned up—and up—at Bob. "I know, but I can't resist. When our guests want to surf, it's only fair that we give them waves." He'd twisted his beard
He was probably right about Amber and Dax, though. They were a merfolk couple who were regulars because they lived nearby. They usually sat at our water bar, which extended several yards into the ocean so that water folk who couldn't or didn't want to change forms could stay in the water.
Their kids were adorable, and when I "turned on the wave machine" as they put it, they'd nag Amber and Dax until they brought them over to play in the surf. I waved it off because I remembered what Amber had said the last time they were in.
"They may be at the water bar, but they won't be raisin' Cain this time. They'll thank me for the free entertainment and have a drink. You know Dax's mom is in from the Atlantic this week. From what Amber says, the woman shoulda been born a banshee. She'll be glad for any chance to escape."
As predicted, it wasn't twenty minutes later that the bell on the end of the water bar rang, indicating we had guests. I turned to see my favorite merpeople on the planet smiling at me and giving me thumbs-ups. Glancing down toward where the faeries were surfing, I caught the glint of a couple jewel-toned fins in the waves.
Bob smiled and made their regular drinks and sat them on the server's space. A couple weeks before, he'd started using wax to turn the fur above his lips into a huge handlebar mustache that curled into almost complete circles at the ends. It landed him somewhere between Wyatt Earp and steampunk hipster, which was a little unsettling on a Bigfoot. If he started wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a bowler hat, we were gonna have a talk, assuming his wife didn't beat me to it.
"Nice 'stache," I said, teasing. "Good thing you got a raise. The cost of the wax alone probably eats up most of it."
He scowled and twirled the facial hair in question. "Like I told Jolene, keep it up and I'll start doing my eyebrows too." He puffed up his chest. "I'm the man of the house and I'll wear my mustache any way I want."
Jolene was his wife, and a good southern girl in all ways. I highly doubted he told her that, at least in that tone. If he had, his eyebrows would be waxed, but not quite in the way he intended. I gave him my best sassy smile. "Just in case she didn't hear you, I'll tell her you said that."
He held his hands out, palms showing. "No need for that. I'm sure she heard me just fine."
Winking at him, I said, "That's what I thought."
I scooped the drinks onto my tray and headed down to greet Amber and Dax.
"Oh, thank Poseidon," she said as she reached for her coconut rum and pineapple juice. "If ever there was a time I needed a drink, it's today."
Dax gave her a playful smile. "You love Mama and you know it."
Amber mumbled something around her straw that sounded like, "Yeah, love to feed her to a great white, if it'd even eat her."
Dax gave her a squeeze. "She'll be gone before you know it, then we won't have to deal with her for another year."
"Yeah," she said, rolling her eyes, "it already feels like she's been here for a year, and the year she'll be gone will fly."
"So what's new with you?" she asked after sucking down half her drink.
"Same old, same old," I said, propping my tray on my hip and enjoying the feel of the cool seawater flowing through my water shoes. "Just another day in paradise. A few playboy faeries here, a drunken leprechaun there."
"Speaking of, somebody said they saw Stan firing off arrows down at a human assisted-living facility. Is he drinking again?" Dax asked.
I grinned. Stan was a cupid who'd spent a few weeks here during an existential crisis caused by divorce rates, and we'd given his some suggestions for finding folks looking for lasting relationships. Mature people were less likely to divorce than young folks hooking up in bars, so we'd pointed him toward them.
"No, he's not drinking again," I said. "He just made an adjustment to his targeted demographic."
"Ah," Amber said, plucking the pineapple garnish off her glass and biting into it. "That makes more sense. I was worried for a minute. Throwing a drunken cupid into a place with readily available Viagra, older-model fake boobs, and dementia has hot mess written all over it."
I couldn't help but laugh at the image. "True story," I said. "But no, he's sober, happy, and doing a great job as far as we've heard."
Tempest, who was curled up in a fan behind the bar courtesy of Bob, called me through our link.
Quit dawdling. You're needed up here.
I turned to look toward the tiki. A group of gnomes had settled at one table and three leprechauns were at another. Ugh. Gnomes were great, but leprechauns tended to be handsy.
&nb
sp; "I gotta run," I said, feeling like my shift had just gotten ten hours longer.
Amber glanced toward the bar and almost choked on her drink when she saw the leprechauns jump up on the table.
"I'm glad you're amused," I sad, glowering at her. "Maybe I'll suggest they join you down here. The water's great."
"Don't you dare. I'm here to escape insanity, not get sucked into more of it. Besides," she said, shooting a sideways glance at Dax. "His last experience with leprechauns didn't go so well, did it, honey?"
He blushed a nice shade of scarlet that matched his fin. "No. They beat the pants off me at poker. Literally. I had to walk from the casino in the main building all the way to the shore in my undershorts."
I barked out a laugh. "That's what you get for gambling with leprechauns. Okay, I'll check back on y'all in a bit."
I'd just stepped off the end of the water bar and back onto the pavers when somebody started yelling at the end of the beach. I looked down and one of the faeries, Dain I think they'd called him, was chest to chest with a blond man I didn't recognize. The guy was definitely not there to surf; his khakis were crisp and his white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves.
Dain pushed him, and he pushed back. One of the Dain's brothers and another blond man who was surfing with them dropped their boards and rushed over to break it up. I whispered an eavesdropping spell, but by the time it kicked in, all I heard was the older guy say, "You've been warned." That wasn't helpful at all.
He stomped back toward the resort and I didn't give it a second thought after that. Faeries were known to be hotheads.
The gnomes were, as expected, great. I felt bad for them because they got a bad rap due to the whole yard-statue thing, but in truth, if you were lucky enough to have a real gnome in your garden, you'd have the best yard in the neighborhood and a feeling of peace and happiness every time you walked through it.
Unfortunately, the gnome liberation movement had sent most of them into the forests, but the upside was that they had much more free time. We nearly always had a group or two on vacation, and we also had a crew who worked at the resort maintaining the grounds.
The leprechauns, unfortunately, also behaved as expected. I finally threatened to tie them to their chairs if they accidentally brushed up against me again when I delivered their drinks or food. I also made sure to add the tip to the check; otherwise, they'd have stiffed me because they're so cheap.
I ended up having to work a double because the afternoon server, a new girl named Lola, called in sick. Luckily, it was just busy enough that the time passed so quickly, but not busy that I was run ragged.
A group of elves hung out at the pool all day, so between the water bar and stepping down onto the shelf of the pool to hand them their drinks, I got to cool my feet off. Being so close to the ocean kept my magic on full charge all the time, and one of the perks of working at a magical resort was that I could use it as I saw fit to do my job.
After what felt like days, my shift finally ended. I plopped onto a barstool and had a giant glass of lime water while Bob and I counted the money and made the drop.
"Dang it," I said, noticing a full trashcan I'd missed.
Bob glanced where I was looking. "You get that and I'll finish up here." He blew his mustache out of the way; the wax had given up the ghost several hours before and looked more like a giant red overcooked noodle rather than a handlebar. I did everything I could not to laugh when he shot me a dirty look.
I slid off the stool and pointed toward the can, then levitated the whole thing off the ground. I didn't want to have the bottom rip out of the bag halfway between there and the dumpster, which was located behind the hut near the unicorn rest area.
I was so focused on keeping the can from tipping that I didn't see the lump on the path in front of me, and my toe caught it, sending me ass over teakettle. The garbage can crashed to the ground in front of me and I flipped over to see what I'd tripped on.
Dain's sightless amber eyes were forever focused on a spot somewhere behind me, his face relaxed in death. If not for the eyes, I might have thought he'd passed out on his way to the hotel. Well, the eyes and the dagger sticking out of his back.
CHAPTER FOUR
CALL ME A WIMP, BUT I screamed like a little girl and moved faster backwards on my hands faster than any crab could have ever done. Poor Bob bolted around the corner so fast he was going to fall over the body himself.
"Stop!" I yelled, holding out my hands. I'd already fallen over a dead body; I didn't need a Bigfoot landing on me on top of it. That would just be the cherry on top of the sundae. He skidded to a halt, slinging sand onto the body and over it onto my feet.
He looked down as his eyes adjusted to what little light there was between the moonlight and the dim bulb on the back of the building and let out a yell that sounded sort of like Chewbacca with his hand caught in a wringer washer. I didn't feel so badly about my less-than-dignified squeals, but that was a passing thought.
"Is that the faerie from earlier?" he asked, walking a wide path around the body.
"Yeah. Dain, they called him," I replied, my voice shaking. Bob held out a hand to help me up and nearly threw me over his shoulder when I took it.
"Sorry," he said, never taking his eyes off the body.
I brushed the sand off my clothes and tried to gather my wits. The dagger was a fancy one—the light glinted dully off the leather-wrapped silver and shone against a blood-red stone set into the pommel. I stepped closer and bent down to get a better look. The guard was carved into what appeared to be some sort of Celtic design.
Bob pulled me back, shaking his head. "Don't get too close. There may be other evidence you can't see. You need to call Blake."
Tempest scurried around the corner, late to the party.
"Where have you been?" I said, scowling at her.
"I thought you saw a snake, or one of those giant toads," she said. "The panic in your mind was similar. Then Bob yelled, and neither one of you came back, so I figured I better check."
"Thanks for having my back," I replied, mustering as much sarcasm as I could. "I'm going to go get Blake."
She raised a brow and looked at Bob, pointing to him with her snout. I followed her gaze; he didn't look so great.
"I'll go get Blake," she said. "You two keep an eye on the body."
"Do I have to?" Bob asked, fighting his gag reflex.
I rolled my eyes despite the gravity of the situation. "If you barf, I'm gonna punch you." I had a stomach of steel and could eat spaghetti while watching even the goriest of horror movies—mostly because I thought they were stupid—but my belly drew the line at vomiting.
A small pop sounded as Tempest disappeared, then reappeared less than twenty seconds later with Blake.
He sucked in a breath as he took in the scene. I started to conjure a light ball but he shook his head. "We don't need the attention. Leave it out while I contact the council. But first, tell me everything that happened."
A few seconds later, he uttered a spell that I recognized as the one that locked down the place. Nobody could come or go, no matter how powerful they were.
Shaking his head, he said, "When we built those into the resort's security system, I didn't think I'd ever need them, yet here I am, using them for the third time," he said.
I held my hands out, palms up. "I was just taking out the trash and literally fell over him."
Blake heaved a sigh and glanced between me and Bob, who was making an effort to look anywhere but at the body. Anybody who thinks Bigfoot's more scared of you than you are of him is probably right, unless you're messing with his friends or family. But this faerie was neither. "Did either of you see anything? What time did the last guest leave, and who was it?"
Bob shook his head. "It's been a normal night. Quiet, even, once the leprechauns left. The last folks to leave were the gnomes, and that was a couple hours ago."
The dagger was buried to the hilt at what looked to be a downward angle and proba
bly weighed at least a couple of pounds, so it was safe to say the gnomes were in the clear. They did have magic, but another part of resort security was that Blake and I were the only people able to use magic against another person. Oh, and Margo, the sphinx who stood watch over the entrance to the main resort. So yeah, the gnomes were in the clear.
That did, however, leave it open to anybody who had the height and strength to commit murder the old-fashioned way.
"Did the gnomes come up the path?"
"Now that you mention it, yeah, they did," I said. "So the body must not have been there when they left."
He pursed his lips and crossed his arms, resting his chin in one hand while he scanned to scene for any signs of clues. There were none to be found, or at least none that were screaming, "look at me! I'll tell you whodunit!" Once that was clear, he pulled his cell from the back pocket of his jeans and scrolled through his contacts, then put it to his ear.
Since he turned his back to us and walked away for some privacy, I had no choice but to mumble a spell that allowed me to overhear what he was saying.
"Lucy," he said when a woman answered. Ah, Lucy Flanders, the president of the board of directors for Enchanted Coast Corp.
"Blake? It's almost one in the morning. What's going on?"
"Yeah, sorry to call so late, but we have a huge problem. Dain O'Farrell has been murdered. Destiny just found him behind the tiki when she was taking the garbage out."
Bob started to say something, but I put my fingers to my lips and tilted my head sideways. Dawning crossed his face when he realized what I was doing. As a Bigfoot, he had preternaturally good hearing anyway, so he joined me in shamelessly listening in on the conversation.
Crimes were handled a lot differently on the resort—and in magical communities in general—than they were in the human world. We had our own justice system, and our own investigators. As a matter of fact, a lot of the ace investigators on human law enforcement teams had at least a touch of magic.