I find myself snarling words at both him and Bryar. “What can you possibly understand about mates and werewolves? My kind won’t even consider hooking up with something that’s human.”
All the blood seems to drain from Bryar’s face. “Forget I said anything.”
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
Before I can come up with a decent excuse, she bolts from the car. I feel like a first-class ass. My wolf growls inside my soul.
“Not be mean to Bryar Rose.”
“I have to. She’s getting too close. This is for the best.”
I put the Mustang into drive and speed away. Absolutely, this is for the best. Maybe if I keep saying that over and over, I might just convince myself that it’s true.
Chapter Nine
Bryar Rose
I race up the stairs to Elle’s apartment door. One thing about living in New York, you don’t need a StairMaster. With every step, my conversation with Knox runs through my mind, like it’s stuck on repeat. How can someone be so cool at some moments…and then such a jerk two seconds later? It’s not like I was hitting on him in the car. There was no reason for him to be such an ass about the warden thing.
Or maybe there was. I mean, I’m not forbidden to get married or mated or whatever. What do I know about how that feels?
I pause outside Elle’s door. I hadn’t known that werewolves saw humans as disgusting. But if that’s true, then why are there times when I really think that Knox likes me? Am I going crazy?
I set my palms on my eyes and try to regroup. Now is not the time to worry about Knox. It’s the time to tell my best friend that I killed someone and burned her house down.
Yipes.
Straightening my shoulders, I knock on the door.
“Who is it?” That’s Elle.
“It’s me. Bryar Rose.”
A chorus of locks clicks before the door swings open to a very smiley Elle. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that Alec is a warden, but I hold back. “Hi, Elle!”
“Hey, girlfriend.” She’s wearing her terrycloth robe and a look of confusion on her face. “What’s wrong?”
I’m about to say everything, but the words just don’t come. “I…uh…uh…need to take a shower.”
Nice bravery, Bryar.
“Sure. Go ahead. Alec left a few minutes ago.” Elle steps back and lets me in.
Like the coward I am, I make a beeline to the bathroom and proceed to take the world’s longest shower. An hour passes before I step back into the main part of the apartment. It’s a huge, single-room deal with super-high ceilings and a bay window that looks out onto a brick wall. For New York, that’s a nice view. On the main floor, there’s a futon, television, mini-kitchen, and bathroom. Cool posters of old monster movies hang on the walls. I’m talking Creature from the Black Lagoon, Bride of Frankenstein, that kind of thing. Elle sleeps in a small loft that’s reached by a ladder. It doesn’t have enough space for anyone to stand up, but we still squeezed a mattress in there. For the Village, that’s luxury.
I pull my own terrycloth robe tighter around me and head into the kitchenette. Sure, it’s still early morning, and I haven’t slept in more than twenty-four hours. But I’m too wired to think about resting.
I mean, who can rest when you have to tell someone you burned their house down? Not exactly a soothing conversation.
I root around the kitchen while Elle sits on her futon with her feet on the coffee table and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s on her lap. She’s watching Animal Planet, of all things.
“You feeling better?” asks Elle. She’s wearing pajamas with ninja penguins on them. I may have to borrow those.
I open her freezer, grab myself a pint of mint Oreo double chocolate, and plunk down onto the couch beside her. “That depends.”
“On what?” Elle jams an inhuman amount of ice cream into her mouth.
“On how you take my news.”
Elle speaks through a mouthful of ice cream. “Hit me.”
“Some members of the Denarii are downright evil.”
“Evil? You’re talking about the Denarii…the same ones that run our group?”
“Yup. Those are the ones.”
“But they’re squeaky clean, according to everything I’ve researched.” Elle rolls some more ice cream around her mouth as she thinks. “Although, come to think of it, that’s super-sketchy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone has something to hide. I asked for a full rundown from my street sources before I joined the group. They came up with nothing. After that, remember when we tried to hack into Madame’s life?”
“Sure, we did that when she started over-focusing on my dreams.”
“Right. We broke into every system we could find, looking for something suspicious on her.”
I crack a smile at the memory. “We wanted to blackmail her so she’d leave me alone in group.” It wasn’t our best plan. But in our defense, it was a long weekend, and we’d watched too many detective movies.
“Let’s face it,” says Elle. “We’re pretty good hackers. We turned up a ton of information, but all of it was squeaky clean. And that is what’s truly fishy about the whole thing. Everyone has something at least a little sketchy out there.”
“You don’t.”
“And that makes my point. I’m totally bad news.”
I nod slowly. “You may be on to something.”
“Of course, I am. You only get squeaky clean when you’ve been up to bad things and had them wiped away.” She taps her spoon on her chin. “So, what did she do to you?”
I debate whether to break the news slowly, but this is the kind of thing that’s best to get over with fast, like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Last night, Madame broke into the cabin and tried to kill me.”
Elle drops her spoon. “You’re kidding me.”
“I wish.”
After that, Elle launches into multiple choruses of “what” and “I don’t believe it” as I explain how Madame attacked me and I killed her, only to have her rise from the dead…only to get killed again by Knox. By the time I’m done telling the tale, Elle has finished her first pint of ice cream and cracked open a second.
“Wow. I can’t believe that. I mean, I knew Madame was a witch-with-a-B, but a murderer? And the Denarii are really some secret cult? Yow.” She shakes her head. “And coming back to life like that is amazeballs. What kind of magic is that, anyway?”
“No idea.” I wince. “You still haven’t heard the worst of it, though.”
“Worse than Madame being a freaky killer?”
I turn to Elle and raise my hand. “Pinky swear you won’t lose it.”
Elle wraps her pinky around mine. “I swear.”
“Okay.” I take in a deep breath. “To really get rid of the body, we had to…you know…”
“Just spill.”
“Burn the cabin to the ground. Maybe.”
“Huh.” Elle’s face takes on an unreadable look. “Did you burn it to the ground, or didn’t you?”
“Knox did the burning, but yeah. It’s totally gone.”
Elle gives my pinky a squeeze. “In that case, it’s fine.”
My mouth falls open. “What? You’re not mad at me? I got your house burned down.”
“For the record, I’d have been much angrier if you’d gotten hurt. I have other safe houses, and that one was a dump anyway. It had no electricity other than that sketchy generator thing. This way, I can get it rebuilt and have insurance pay for it.”
I keep staring at Elle with my mouth open. “Really?”
“Would I lie about scamming insurance?” She frowns. “Only, it’s not really a scam since you two did burn it down without my knowledge.” She shrugs. “Oh, well. I’ll figure out how to scam insurance another time. Besides, I never liked that place. It’s got that creepy hotel nearby.”
“The Thornhill Arms.”
“That’s the one. It’s all rundown and nasty and surrounded by those prick
er trees.” She shivers. “Maybe I should just sell the land instead.”
“Whatever you want.” I finally start to dig into my now half-melted ice cream. “As long as we’re good.”
“We’re great.” Elle bobs her eyebrows up and down. “Only I’m dying for more details about you and Knox.”
“What?” I jam a bunch of ice cream into my mouth to buy some time. I know Elle’s eyebrow-bobbing routine. She wants gossip and won’t stop until she has it.
“Please. I couldn’t help but notice how he just showed up at the end of your story. I want deets.”
“There’s nothing to say.” I bob my eyebrows right back at her. “Unless you want to share about Alec first.”
Elle’s face turns pink. “Uhhhh…”
Now, I’m totally stunned. Elle is making uh noises? Whatever happened with Alec, it’s got to be interesting.
Suddenly, a knock sounds at the door. “Elle, are you in there? Open up. It’s Lauralei.”
Elle and I share a shocked look. Although my aunties can track my phone to Elle’s place, they’ve never actually gotten into a taxi to visit the Village. To them, the south end of Manhattan might as well be another country. Sure, they could use magic to transport over, but that would be a major spell. I’ve seen them cast like two of those in their lifetimes.
Elle sets her ice cream aside and goes to answer the door. Lauralei stands outside in all her gray-haired splendor. She’s even wearing a pink pantsuit today, which makes her look even more flamingo-like. “Where’s Bryar Rose? We’ve been calling and calling all morning. You answered the phone, but you could never get our sweet girl on the phone. We’ve been so worried about her.”
“Bryar Rose is here. She’s been here all night.” Elle says that so innocently even I believe her. “Want some orange juice?”
“No, those are empty calories.” Lauralei rushes into the condo. “Bryar Rose. You’re really here.”
“Where else would I be?” Other than getting attacked in a log cabin.
My other aunties stream into the condo behind Lauralei. Fanna is wearing an orange pantsuit, which should look weird, only it’s Chanel, so it doesn’t. Mirabelle is in a crimson muumuu thing that wouldn’t be my choice for her.
And after all my aunties, there comes someone I’d really rather weren’t here.
Philpot.
My fake boyfriend is wearing chinos and a rugby jersey with the collar turned up. That should be a cool look, only Philpot’s jersey is yellow with a strange black stripe, which makes him look like a chiseled bumblebee or Charlie Brown. Tough to decide.
Lauralei stares at me. “You’re here.”
“You said that already.” I plunk down on the futon and kick my feet onto the coffee table. Lauralei hates when I do this, but I’m at Elle’s, so she can’t say anything. You have to enjoy the little victories in life. “You seem surprised to see me.”
“After looking for so long, we feared the worst.”
“Why?” I ask. “It hasn’t even been a full day since I last saw you all.” Which is totally suspicious. I’d worry that my aunties are in cahoots with the Denarii, but the Denarii try to kill anyone with magic, so that seems way unlikely.
“It wasn’t only me.” Lauralei pushes Philpot forward. “Your Prince was worried about you as well.”
Philpot beams. “Just because they call me His Highness of Hedge Funds doesn’t make me a Prince…to everyone.”
Mirabelle rushes forward to paw his forearm. “It does to us, Philpot honey.”
“Actually, it’s Philpot Herbert Utrecht the Third.”
Not again.
Philpot scans the room. “You left the party without saying good-bye. It had me so worried. And then, you didn’t answer my calls.”
“I never answer your calls.”
Philpot sniffs. “I was forced to reach out to your aunties and—”
“We’re always happy to hear from you, Philpot honey,” says Fanna.
I rise and clap my hands. My aunties are like schoolchildren sometimes. A good clap helps them focus. “Well, now, you’ve all found me, and I’m safe. So if you don’t mind, Elle and I need some sleep.”
“But it’s early Thursday morning,” says Lauralei.
Elle slaps on one of her most winning smiles and tosses her long mane of blonde hair. You can almost hear my aunties think, Awwwwww. “This is all my fault. I kept Bryar Rose up all night.”
Lauralei pats Elle on the shoulder. “Whatever you did, I’m sure Bryar had it coming.”
I raise my fist. “Thanks for the love.”
“Hush now; Elle’s talking.”
I’d hate that my aunties like Elle better than me, but Elle only uses her powers for good.
“Here’s what happened.” Elle scans the room, drawing everyone into her tale. I swear, you can feel the energy sparkle around her. It’s got to be magic. Not that I’m complaining. “Bryar wanted so badly to stay at your party, Prescott.”
“It’s Philpot.”
“Right. But she started having a terrible episode, so I took her away.” Elle clasps her hands under her chin, not unlike poses I’ve seen on prayer devotionals. “And I had another reason to want some quiet time with Bryar. I’ve uncovered an amazing opportunity for her.”
“What is it?” asks Lauralei.
“You’ve heard of the LeCharme employee discount?” asks Elle. “Sixty percent off.”
I want to suck in a gasp, but I stop myself. I know for a fact that there’s no such thing as a LeCharme employee discount. We hacked into their finance systems on more than one occasion. I can’t wait to see where Elle is going with this.
“Oh, my.” Lauralei’s beady bird eyes glitter with interest. “Sixty percent?”
Now, some fairies wouldn’t care about retail discounts, but those would be the ones who can magic up whatever they want. My aunties aren’t necessarily strong in the magical arena—and they do like bright, shiny objects—so this is of definite interest to them. I’m starting to see where Elle is going with this, and my girl is a genius.
“Our Bryar Rose has a chance to get that discount for her friends and family.”
“How?” asks Philpot. He looks overly interested as well, which is somehow creepy. Who’s he buying jewels for, anyway? Not that I really care if he disrespects our fake relationship, but still. It’s the principle of the thing.
“Bryar has an opportunity to work as an intern at LeCharme. That’s how she’d get the discount.” Elle sighs dramatically, complete with setting the back of her palm against her forehead. “Only she doesn’t want to do it.”
Now all my aunties talk in quick succession. As always, Lauralei starts. “Why ever wouldn’t you want an internship at LeCharme?”
“What do they want her to do?” asks Fanna. “There’s no way she can be around other people. She could have an episode.”
“Bryar Rose is not really ready to work with customers or anything.” That’s Mirabelle. “We’d be concerned about her getting a big head.”
Or any sense of self-confidence, it would seem. I’d call them out on this, but I don’t want to bust up whatever con Elle’s working. Instead, I decide to step in and help out. It’s a passive-aggressive way to get my revenge, but I’ll take it.
I put on my most serious face. “My job would be maintaining the rose garden on the roof.” This way, there are thorns and greenery involved, which fits with my Sleeping Beauty template. They should like that.
“A greenhouse on a skyscraper?” asks Fanna. “That sounds incredibly dangerous. What if you have an episode and fall off the roof?” On a positive note, Fanna is consistently considerate of my safety.
“Did Bryar Rose say gardening?” asks Elle. “That’s not correct. Actually, she has to scrub toilets.” Now, that’s a more Cinderella template thing, but it just might work.
Lauralei grins. “That seems a little more her speed.”
I shiver dramatically. “It’s a skyscraper, aunties. There are so many disgu
sting, dirty toilets. That’s why I’m so unsure.”
“You’ll do it.” Lauralei turns to Elle. “How does the discount work?”
“I’m going to be interning, too, so I’ll manage everything.”
Actual tears glisten in Lauralei’s eyes. “That’s so kind of you.”
“Hey, that’s just who I am.” Elle’s huge blue eyes never looked larger or more innocent than they do in this moment.
Philpot steps forward. “What about me?”
“You’re absolutely included, Protus.”
“It’s Philpot Herbert Utrecht the Third.”
Elle shrugs. “That’s what I said.”
Lauralei rounds on me. “You must accept this opportunity, Bryar Rose. We simply can’t have you sitting around all summer doing nothing.”
I shiver again, just to look even more convincing in my fake uncertainty. “Well…”
“We insist,” adds Fanna. “You owe us.”
“You’re right. I’ll help out. After all, it’s the least I can do. You know, after all you’ve sacrificed for me.”
“Everything is decided then.” Elle opens the door and gestures to the hallway beyond. “Now, if you don’t mind, we’re off to bed.”
Philpot looks confused. “What?”
Lauralei steps toward the door. “Didn’t you hear? Our sweet Elle has been up all night convincing Bryar Rose to take this internship. They both need their sleep now. Mostly Elle.”
I yawn. “That’s right.” And in truth, I am feeling way tired.
“Shouldn’t she come back to the penthouse?” asks Mirabelle.
“Nope, I need to keep her here.” Elle grins again, and I swear I can hear another silent awwwww fill the air. “I’m not taking any chances with her chickening out. Can’t be late for our first day!”
“Today is Thursday,” says Lauralei, Mistress of the Obvious. “When would you start work?” Fairies always find it hard to remember that there are specific days for humans to earn wages.
“We start tomorrow. Friday.” Elle says it with such conviction, I’m sure it’s the truth. Or it will be, soon enough.
“Of course, Elle.” Lauralei is so happy she almost skips out into the hallway. “You really are a marvel.”
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