Once Upon A Curse: 17 Dark Faerie Tales

by Yasmine Galenorn

  He had pretty eyes. They were so light, they shone past the dirt that coated his entire body.

  “Would you hurt me?”

  “NO!” His head lifted and his eyes met hers again, this time not looking away. The answer was angry and certain. His voice went low, low like grown-ups when they talked of serious things.

  She couldn’t explain why, but Kenna ducked her head then, unable to look at the boy, now that his attention was focused on her.

  They sat like that, one looking, the other looking away, until fireflies lit against the deepening red of the sky, and only then did he take her hand in his.

  Chapter 4

  The suite of offices that housed the mayor, his various assistants, and all the desks, chairs, computers, files, and other essentials needed for the staff took up the entire top floor of city hall. It was here the elevator doors opened to let Kenna off, into an area which was decorated too opulently for housing a mere civil servant.

  She’d made this trek only a handful of times and never before alone, but Kenna moved without instruction to the largest office, positioned to overlook the city square. In front of the office was a desk, and sitting at the desk was a woman, stereotypically cheerleader gorgeous, and of course, doing her nails.

  The assistant didn’t look up at her approach, but Kenna tried talking anyway. “I’m Detective Morgan. I’ve been called for a meeting with the mayor.”

  As expected, this information didn’t cause the woman to even blink hard in acknowledgement or look away from her manicure. “Yeah.”

  Another woman who came by holding a file, this one older and though elegant with age, less obviousness in her attractiveness. “Please go in, Detective. Mayor Almos is waiting for you.”

  No sense in prolonging the conversation out here. Kenna pushed through the door, and behind a stately desk, in full mayoral glory, Sanson Almos sat.

  He had the type of face voters loved, a slightly imperfect and rugged attractiveness that suggested both book intelligence and keen leadership, wrapped up in dimples any grandma would squeeze. The sharp lines of the charcoal suit and near invisible glasses perched on his nose beat down any doubts that perhaps listening to him would invoke – that, along with the thick brown hair and perfect blue eyes that were the final accents on top of all his other charms.

  “Ah, Detective.” He didn’t rise, didn’t make the usual social platitudes about appreciating her presence or thanking her for her promptness. He sat there, a king awaiting his due, and she but a subject, one whose purpose was to cater to his whims.

  She tilted her head slightly, the bare minimum of required theatre. “Your Honor. What can I do for you?”

  The put-out expression on his face lasted only a moment, but the moment was enough to let shine through a spoiled child, one nasty in his disappointment. Not many came in here without tons of flattery in reserve and waiting to be unleashed, and he didn’t like this change in status quo. “Kenna – may I call you Kenna? – I need your assistance tonight, and I’ve been assured by your Captain that you would be more than willing to help.”

  That he was name dropping the Captain sent more than one alarm bell ringing in her head. “As the Captain hasn’t mentioned anything to me concerning you, Mayor Almos, I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.”

  The door opened behind her, and Kenna tilted her head enough to look behind her, to a man with a hard body and even harder edges, one who set every danger alert to red.

  He moved to the corner, silent and still, his eyes not focused on her, but every ounce of his energy was, and Kenna shifted her weight, shifted her stance, the ever present gun at the small of her back becoming more than background noise in her brain and now taking the spotlight front and center.

  Almos began speaking again, and as this being was his dog, she needed to pay as much attention to the self-important man as she did his weapon. “I assume you’ve heard Harland Barrett is giving a party this Saturday to celebrate the release of the calendar you’re part of?”

  “Yes sir, I have.” Barrett was a billionaire who supported the Almos family and local law enforcement, and in return, Barrett was given a lot of consideration by the grateful recipients. The party on Saturday was a chance for all of them to get together and congratulate each other in grand style.

  “I’m expected to be there, and I’d like you to be my companion for the evening. As you are the cover model, it really should have been made clear to you earlier than your previous decline of the invitation was not acceptable.”

  Goddamn Chronicle. Of course Sanson wanted her on his arm. That stupid most beautiful label was going to be the end of her, because one day she was going to snap and end up back in jail due to it. “In fact, it is acceptable, and I have no plans on attending. I’ve already made my publicity rounds, and now I want to get back to my job. I have something important needing my attention.”

  “The murders?” Sanson waved the words off with the same lazy wave someone would wave away a bothersome mosquito. “There are other detectives, and one night won’t be the key to solving the case.”

  “Be that as it may, I have no plans on attending.”

  Any mask of civility now fell from his face like a mask, and no matter how beautiful artfully posed photographs showed him, right now Sanson was an ugly shell spitting rage at her. “I don’t know how you think you have a choice, Detective. Are you so stupid you don’t know me? Know my family?”

  The man in the corner tensed, and Kenna twisted her body so she now had a frontal view of both the mayor and the man, her hand now resting behind her. “Of course I know, Your Honor. I know your father, the real estate magnate who owns half the city and made sure his sons were elected. I know the elder Honorable Almos, your brother and a member of the state senate. I know the multitude of cousins in both business and politics.”

  The ugliness didn’t fade from his face, though grim satisfaction sat side-by-side with it, “Then-”

  “Now, Your Honor,” Kenna interrupted, before the man could continue, “I ask you, if you’re so aware of how important knowing people is, why don’t you know me?”

  Confusion took over Sanson’s face, but in the corner…that man didn’t move, didn’t flinch at her words, only met her gaze straight-on as she took him in, and the lack of surprise betrayed he was better informed than his master.

  She’d leave it to him to explain, then. “I would suggest you discover some things about me before you ever talk to me like this again. Now, Your Honor, I am going to go out and find a murderer who is currently stalking your city.”

  Chapter 5

  The smoky voice of the singer matched the smoky atmosphere of the club, all dark promises and broken undertones, and filled with broken people who were searching for that illusive and desired something.

  Moving past the throng of bodies, Kenna made her way to the back, where a long row of cushioned seats behind a table held women as they came and went with men, and in the middle sat a woman with such pale skin the dim lights of the club made her almost glow ghost-like, but with such dark hair that any light which hit it disappeared into the inky mass with no escape.

  As Kenna approached the table the woman’s red lips curled into a welcoming smile. “Kenna,” she called out, giving a small push to the woman sitting on her right and motioning the detective to take the now empty space. “It’s been too long.”

  “Yuki, you look well.”

  Yuki gave a gracious dip of her head in acknowledgement, and as Kenna moved to take the offered seat, another body collided with her, one almost a foot smaller than Kenna’s own five-ten frame, the long blonde hair in two pigtails swinging through the air.

  Thin arms wrapped around Kenna’s waist, and a high-pitched feminine squeal rent the air. “Kenna.” The tone was pure happiness, and the girl nuzzled her face against Kenna’s jacket, her arms locking tight.

  “Tori.” Kenna returned the hug, leaning down to give a kiss to the top of the blonde locks and wrapping a loose
arm around the younger woman’s back. “You well?”

  Tori nodded, not letting go of the detective. The exuberance of an eighteen year old was in full display, though no doubt the identification she was carrying said twenty-one. Considering all the laws Tori broke daily as a call girl, the fake ID was almost a non-issue. Considering all the crap Tori had gone through in her short life, being a call girl in Yuki’s employment was almost a blessing.

  One last squeeze before Tori let girl, but she didn’t stop gazing at Kenna, her smile wide and honest, perhaps for the first time that night. “You haven’t visited for so long,” the young girl said, the words only a step away from a whine, but the intent behind them nothing but adoration.

  Kenna pushed a few stray hairs away from her face. “Been busy, but I’ll try not to do it again.”

  A practiced pout came over Tori’s heavily made-up lips. “You better.”

  Before the conversation could go further, a man came over and pulled on Tori’s arm. “Did you leave me?”

  The change in Tori was instantaneous, going from dazzled little girl to practiced seductiveness. “No baby. Had to say hi to a friend, but I’m all yours now.”

  The man glanced at the other woman, but otherwise made no move towards them, and holding tight to Tori, led her back into the club’s throngs.

  Kenna moved to sit next to Yuki, as Yuki’s girls kept up their wanderings going from the table to out into the club, looking for possible clients and definite ways to forget.

  Yuki handed Kenna her drink. “Ginger whiskey.”

  With a nod of thanks Kenna took a sip. “Any news to share?”

  When it came to getting needed information, Yuki’s girls were a force to be reckoned with, and Yuki herself knew the importance and power in wielding that information. It made the madam a powerhouse herself, and a woman it would be deadly to make an enemy of.

  “This is one thing I’d come to you without expectation of favors owed, Kenna. Whoever it is, he or she or them need to be stopped.”

  None of Yuki’s girls had been touched, but other workers in their field had. If it didn’t get stopped, no doubt it would land either at Yuki’s door, or that of her sister. Yeah, they had a very vested interest in finding the murderer.

  “I figured, but wanted to be sure.” Kenna downed the rest of the drink, the familiar frustration hitting her in the gut.

  Signaling a server for another drink, Yuki asked, “Have you contacted Godmother yet?”

  “Can’t get hold of her.” Godmother was flighty and hard to pin down, and damn if that wasn’t enough to make her want to kick something, especially in a situation like this. “I’m getting desperate enough to head to the Wasteland.”

  Yuki near fell from the chair, she startled so much. “You can’t do that. You know you can’t.”

  “Yeah, I know.” The tone wasn’t convincing even to her own ears, and Yuki’s look confirmed it.

  The waiter came with a glass of something fruity looking, and Yuki took a long sip. “If you’re desperate enough to head there, then why not head to him?”

  “Cause in some ways that thought frightens me more than any witch.” Yet the tension that began to infiltrate her limbs, the knot in her stomach, the clench of breath in her lungs…no, fear couldn’t explain the near languid warmth that underlined the possibility of turning herself over to his power with that request.

  “Hmmm.” Another unconvinced look from Yuki, and Kenna needed to leave.

  Throwing some money on the table, Kenna rose. “If you find anything-”

  “Before you go, I need you to speak to Tori soon. Maybe visit her the next couple days.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with Tori?”

  Yuki’s naturally thin mouth flattened even more. “She’s growing too bold. She’s mouthing off at clients, and using your name to get out of trouble.”

  “And we both know my name is as much hindrance as help.” Kenna stopped the sigh that wanted to leave her chest. “Yeah, I’ll come over soon. I promise.”

  Chapter 6

  His skin was rough.

  If she had stopped to think about it, that fact would have been obvious. Of course his skin would be rough. Of course it would.

  Of course it would.

  With her, though, there had only ever been gentleness. So without really thinking about it, why would she have assumed any differently about any part of him?

  But the skin of his hands, of his fingers and the pads of each, was rough as each cell cupped her cheek, stroked over the curve of jaw and neck.

  Even with such rough skin, all she could think was gentle.

  “You don’t have to. You’re better than that. You’re better than what they want to make you.”

  “What else can I do?”

  “What else?” The question floored her. How could he not know? He really didn’t know? “Stay with me.”

  His hand jerked as if burned, but she curled her own fingers around his, kept his hand on her. His silver grey eyes, almost luminescent as they locked with hers, held emotions too complex and too foreign in his face for her to even begin to sort them out.

  She ran the pad of her thumb over his eyebrow. “So beautiful.”

  He scoffed, the words breaking him from the trance of emotions he’d been under. “I’m not.”

  “Your eyes are.”

  “Only because they see you.”

  Chapter 7

  The party was as bad as she knew it would be.

  The dressing down from the Captain had been of epic proportions, and it was made very clear she would be at this party, and she would enjoy it.

  At least she wasn’t on the arm of the Honorable Mayor Almos though. He was openly flirting with a gorgeous dark-haired and lush-hipped woman, a woman Kenna knew well, and the debate was still raging in her head as it had been from the moment she arrived – who had invited several of Yuki’s girls to be among the guests, and whoever it was, did they know Kenna knew these particular girls, or was it a happy accident?

  Not that the girls didn’t fit in. Even Tori, who unlike her Lolita fantasy from the club, tonight was understated elegance.

  The air around Kenna almost parted at a sudden malevolent presence, and Kenna stepped away before she moved to face the presence, her quick movement the reason Harland Barrett hadn’t been able to lay his hand against her back, as his stance and the placement of his hand showed he had been in the process of attempting.

  With ease Barrett pulled back, a society smile settling on his face. “Detective Morgan. A true pleasure to meet you at last. Please allow me to say the Chronicle got it decidedly right in choosing you.”

  Kenna’s society smile was nowhere near as practiced as Barrett’s, but she dug deep and matched Barrett’s. “I find the whole situation rather perplexing given it’s such a small magazine, but I guess these are they type of stunts needed for print publications to keep their doors open.”

  Waiters with champagne mingled with the guests, and from one of these trays Barrett grabbed a glass. “Of course I won’t bring it up if it embarrasses you, but I find it fascinating that you reject the title, and yet are part of a project where your beauty is showcased.”

  Since it was frowned upon in polite society to push past your host and run away, Kenna swallowed from the glass in her own hand and continued. “I was asked to model, I didn’t volunteer, and it’s a cause dear to my heart, which is why I agreed. I didn’t know it would get the type of publicity it has. I must admit if I had realized what the hype machine would look like, I probably wouldn’t have participated.”

  “Now that would have been a shame.”

  “Please, Mr. Barrett.” She could only put on a society face for so long, and the ability was rapidly fading. Kenna needed to escape, and soon. “There are a dozen women in this room alone who would have been stunning in the calendar. I hope you’re not going to mention my title again.”

  “No, Detective Morgan, I’m not. I merely meant that if you hadn’t been p
art of the project, and you weren’t here, then he wouldn’t be here either.” Barrett leaned closer, his breath a harsh, unwelcome puff against her forehead. “And I’ve been wanting to meet him for such a long time.”

  Kenna was still processing his words as he stepped away, and in her line of sight, a man…

  oh…

  The tuxedo looked perfect and wrong on him, somehow filling both those roles in simultaneous fashion. He was always huge in her memories, but somehow, impossibly, he was still bigger in reality. And those eyes…

  Silvery-grey. Lit up from within. Beautiful.

  And fixed on her.

  Then Barrett was at her side, pushing her, and how had she overlooked him, how had she let him touch her with the stink of malice still clinging to him?

  But he led her, and she was in front of him, and those silvery-grey eyes would not let her go.

  Barrett’s words were audible, but while she recorded the sounds, the meanings were lost as she stood there, trapped in a past that meant everything, and was everything she could not let happen again. “Callen Beist. I knew I’d get you to accept an invitation one day. I’m honored you could make it.”

  Callen Beist’s voice match the beast of a man who stood before her, dark and dangerous, an undercurrent of power, and yet an unexpected refinement apparent as well. “Thank you for the invitation, Barrett. It’s a cause I have always believed in, so I couldn’t miss an opportunity to once again show my support.”

  “And I’m sure also the sudden sociability has been accelerated in no small part by our cover model.”

  “No.” Callen’s gaze was taking her in, leaving her with the certainty he knew her down to the number of hairs adorning her head. “No small part.”

  The interruption of the cell phone was so perfectly timed, only a wish granted by a fairy godmother could possibly be responsible. With a small excuse me, Kenna answered, “Monroe.”