Dirty Deeds

by R. J. Blain

  “How are you?” he asked, gaze fixing on the one bandage that peeked out above her collar.

  She was sore; some of the wood splinters had gone deep. But she wasn’t about to admit it. “I’m good. What happened to the pixies?”

  “Sent to the grotto with warnings to behave,” he said.

  Mal was willing to bet that after getting a talking-to from Law, the pixies would think for possibly a whole second or two before getting into more trouble. Maybe they’d even give it five or even ten seconds.

  This wedding was going to be such a disaster.

  “The ghosts are willing to help out,” she told LeeAnne. “They asked if Moira would meet them at the koi pool by the waterfall, so they don’t have to stop charging. They’ll be there all day.”

  LeeAnne nodded. “I’ll let her know. Then you and I can have coffee.”

  “What happened with the glitter bomb fallout?” Mal asked as she and Law headed for the bistro.

  He shook his head. “Not a lot. Some new creatures, possibly. I conveyed them to the menagerie quarantine cells until we can decide if they should be released or not.”

  “Seems unfair to be the only one of your kind and to only exist because of a pixie prank.”

  Law shrugged as they reached a table. He pulled a chair out for her. “Magic has a way of evening things out. Look at the giants and the pixies. No one would have seen a marriage happening there.”

  “I still don’t,” Mal said as she sat. “Who besides pixies are willing to put up with them?”

  The waiter approached and took their order. LeeAnne sat down and added hers.

  Mal couldn’t help her mouth falling open in surprise when the waiter departed and LeeAnne closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose, giving an exasperated sigh.

  “This is only going to get worse,” she muttered.

  “You know you said that out loud, right?” Mal asked.

  The housekeeper glared and Mal shrugged. “Just asking. You don’t usually say stuff like that.”

  “Not that you know anything about me,” LeeAnne said frostily then sighed again. “But you’re right. This time.”

  That had both Mal and Law staring.

  “Are you sick?” Law asked.

  “I could use a vacation. Somewhere warm with sand, blue ocean, and nobody around.”

  Mal could sympathize. How did a housekeeper vacation, anyhow? Could she? Law couldn’t go more than a few miles from Effrayant before he had to come back or else end up in paralyzing pain. Sand and a blue ocean were totally off the table for him, at least until his contract expired. Was it the same for LeeAnne?

  Even though Effrayant was a luxurious resort, vacationing at work wasn’t exactly relaxing. If she did, who would cover her duties?

  “Sorry,” Mal said, completely serious.

  LeeAnne eyed her and nodded. The waiter set a plate of pastries on the table along with a bowl of fruit. He set out plates and forks then took off as though his ass were on fire. Serving the boss had to be stressful. Both of them at the same table had to be heart attack inducing.

  With perfect housekeeper courtesy, LeeAnne motioned for Mal to serve herself, then Law, before she took both a chocolate croissant and an éclair.

  “I’d like to hire you,” LeeAnne declared bluntly as she picked up her knife and fork to cut the éclair.

  Who did that? Pastries were supposed to be eaten with fingers. The thought ran through Mal’s brain before LeeAnne’s words registered.

  “You already did. Last night.”

  “All right. I want to keep you on the payroll for a while.”

  Mal’s eyes narrowed. “Doing what?”

  “Pixie and giant wrangler. Specifically, I want you to make sure the bride and groom make it to and through the ceremony, alive and reasonably whole.”

  “That’s my job,” Law pointed out as he drummed his fingers on the table.

  “That’s true. You also have to keep the whole lot of giants and pixies from starting a war inside Effrayant, on top of all your other duties,” LeeAnne said. “Mal will provide an added layer of security. A bodyguard, if you will.”

  “So she answers to me.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

  “No,” both LeeAnne and Mal said in unison; then Mal glanced at the other woman in surprise.

  “All three of us know she isn’t going to take orders from anybody, so why pretend?” LeeAnne said, taking another bite of her pastry. “The two of you used to work together and quite well, from what I understand, so hopefully you still have the knack of it.” She looked at Mal. “If you like, you can invite your demon friend to join you.”

  “Not a chance,” Mal said, not even having to think about it.

  She’d accidentally bound herself to a very powerful, very annoying demon—more annoying even than LeeAnne. When it had happened, she’d sworn she was never going to command him; she wasn’t going to be forced to be a slaveowner, so she’d told him to go away and live his life and leave her alone. So’la had demanded that she summon him if she was in trouble since if one of them died, the other one did too, and she was far more vulnerable than he. She’d agreed, but she’d lied. And even if she hadn’t, she wasn’t in trouble and she didn’t need any help. He could merrily continue doing whatever he was doing, which probably involved ’round-the-clock orgies with anything that moved. So’la was not discriminating.

  LeeAnne shrugged. “Suit yourself. This has every chance of turning into a royal clusterfuck. The more hands on deck, the less chance of that happening. I’m sure that won’t be the last glitter bomb we see before this is over, and that’s the least of our likely problems.”

  Hearing the word “clusterfuck” come out of LeeAnne’s mouth shook Mal’s sense of reality. Had she stepped into a TV sitcom? An alternate universe?

  “I seriously don’t get it,” she said. “If you know all that, why let them have the wedding at Effrayant at all?”

  “I can’t refuse anyone who wants to stay and follows the protocols,” LeeAnne said with a grimace. “It’s in my oath as housekeeper. Plus auburges were designed to be neutral ground for antagonistic parties. Unfortunately, the pixies have every right to our hospitality. I cannot refuse them.”

  It was the most down-to-earth, normal behavior Mal had ever seen the other woman exhibit. Between that and swearing, she was almost likable.

  “Can’t you kick the pixies out after their theatrics?”

  “No.”

  Mal waited for an explanation, and when LeeAnne remained quiet, she pushed. “Seriously? They just created a small unnatural disaster. What else do they need to do? Start a world war? Maybe bring on the next ice age?”

  LeeAnne slashed her an annoyed look and stood.

  “The wedding parties begin arriving shortly. I’ll get you the itinerary. The reception and wedding are this evening. Dignitaries from every giant and pixie clan will be in attendance, as well as a variety of other guests. Expect at least a thousand, likely more.”

  She glanced at Law. “That means I need you here during check-in to keep the peace.”

  She turned her attention back to Mal. “Tomorrow will be the investment ceremony that establishes the bride as virdana of the new pixie-giant clan. Many on both sides revile this wedding, the alliance, and establishing a pixie in the role of virdana. They are determined to stop it at any cost. I am just as determined to make sure this wedding and alliance succeed. Effrayant’s reputation depends on it. Any and all resources are at your disposal. You need only call.

  “I’d like you to attend the arrival of both parties. Law can fill you in on the necessary details.”

  With that, she strode away. Mal watched her go, then turned to Law.

  “All right. What’s going on? Because it’s weird enough that we have mini giants, that a giant is marrying a pixie, and that there’s going to be a pixie virdana, but now LeeAnne is swearing like a trucker and putting me on the payroll. We’ve just gone a couple hundred miles past Crazyland, right
into Inside-Out World.”

  He smiled. “I can’t argue that.”

  He was about to say more but stopped. His head tipped and his eyes unfocused, the smile fading. He grimaced, shoving back from the table and launching to his feet. “’Fraid I’m out of time. I’ve got giants arriving and they’re getting into a brawl.”

  “Wait! At least tell me something. I’m going into this blind.”

  Law stopped and swung around. “Nutshell: some of the giants are cursed. Because of that, they have become small and many in the clans no longer consider them real giants and want to strip them of their citizen and clan rights. This marriage is designed to give them a measure of safety and some other benefits, as well as provide protection to the pixies, who also have reason to need it. That talisman you retrieved is part of the virdana investment ceremony. Talk to the bridal parties. They’ll fill you in on the details. I’ll check in with you as soon as I can.”

  With that, he hustled away. At the same time, one of the desk clerks approached carrying a blue folder.

  “This is for you,” she said, handing it to Mal before returning to her post.

  Mal flipped it open and examined the itinerary.

  As she scanned down the top page, she made a face and checked her watch. Damn it. She had about six minutes before the pixie wedding party arrived. Only they weren’t coming in the front doors. They were scheduled to come in through the grotto, which was between the tree houses by the wildwood and the sea gardens.

  With no time to waste, Mal broke into a jog. It was clear that the giants and their smaller companions had been murdered to obtain the wedding talisman. It was equally clear there was a lot more going on here than she’d imagined and a lot more at stake. Cursed giants? A mixed pixie–small giant clan run by a pixie virdana?

  She couldn’t even wrap her head around the idea. Giants and pixies were ice and fire in terms of cultural habits. Take marriage. Pixies didn’t marry among themselves except to make alliances, and even then, they weren’t expected to stay together or be faithful. They had many partners with many children spread through dozens of nests. The adults raised whatever littles were in their nests. Specific parentage didn’t matter. In fact, nobody really knew who was whose sibling or parent. Genetically, that could have been dangerous, but they kept the gene pool well churned with the multiclan meeting orgies that happened with some regularity, plus once every few years, pixie females did a kind of traveling roadshow, visiting various clans to get pregnant. A few years later, the males would go make a similar trip and sow their seeds. The process solved the whole inbreeding problem pretty quick.

  Giants, on the other hand, took marriage and ancestry very seriously. Mal was pretty sure they’d invented and cornered the market on the big heritage and DNA dot-coms out there and were making a mint off them. Giants were intensely monogamous and freakishly anal about keeping track of who was related to whom.

  How those two familial styles were going to mesh, Mal had no idea, but the word cataclysm sprang to mind. So did apocalypse, scorched earth, and annihilation.

  Chapter Eight

  Mal arrived at the grotto before the pixies. She entered the sylvan space through a magical curtain keyed, she assumed, to allow in only pixies and auberge staff. Mal was a little surprised that it granted her entrance, but then again, LeeAnne was nothing if not efficient.

  It was an odd mix of artful construction and uncultivated beauty. A series of pools cascaded into one another, ending in a quiet stream that meandered through tall cairns interspersed with trees and flowering vines. The pools pushed back under a massive crested-wave stone overhang, dripping with stalactites. Vines draped over the edge of the rock shelf in a lush, green curtain. Deep within, water cascaded merrily over a series of short falls into the first of the basins.

  The temperature was comfortable, and a soft breeze stirred the air. All sorts of small and large nooks filled with soft moss, downy feathers, velvet, silk, and a variety of other comforts, had been tucked away in trees, rocky outcroppings, and along the banks of the pools and stream. Nothing was out of season in LeeAnne’s world, and fruit hung thick from the vines and trees. Tables resembling enormous cat trees interspersed the space, each holding a variety of foods and beverages on various platforms. Everything was cut into bite-sized pieces—bite-sized for pixies. Mal saw no signs of anything resembling forks or spoons or serving ware, nor did she see any dishes. The only containers for food were the pink crystal cups sitting on Christmas tree–shaped shelves near the beverage towers.

  Mal checked her watch and the itinerary. The pixies were ten minutes late. She hoped that wasn’t a sign that something had happened to them. Like someone harpooning a bunch of them to the ground and hacking off body parts. The giant wedding party was due in less than an hour.

  That gave them a few hours until the reception began at five, followed by the wedding around ten. Weird that the reception was first, but maybe they all wanted to have a good opportunity to get plastered first.

  The itinerary didn’t say where the bride and groom would be spending their wedding night. Mal figured that LeeAnne didn’t want even her staff knowing. The fewer people who knew, the fewer people could attack the newlyweds there. The investment ceremony would take place the following day at noon.

  That meant they needed to keep the bride and groom alive for approximately twenty-four hours, and at this point, just about anybody attending the wedding could be a killer. Hell, just about anybody in the wedding parties could be a potential killer, when you got right down to it. It all depended on who was against the alliance and how badly they wanted to stop it.

  She blew out an annoyed breath, wishing Law had had time to give her more details.

  The whirr of wings caught her attention. She looked up, searching the horizon.

  They came in low over the trees. Actually, darting in and out between the treetops, using them for cover, as if expecting an attack. Mal couldn’t tell how many there were.

  She watched their approach, about two dozen of them, all armed and armored. These were a bit larger than those who’d wreaked havoc in the lobby. Half of them landed, facing Mal, while the rest hovered in the air. They held bows with arrows nocked at the ready.

  “Welcome to Effrayant,” Mal said, though she definitely didn’t sound welcoming. Didn’t feel it either. Not that she could blame their caution, really. The murders yesterday had proved it was warranted. She forced herself to smile.

  “I’m Mallory Jade. The housekeeper sent me to make sure you arrived safely. Which one of you is the bride?”

  Mal probably shouldn’t have been surprised when one of the airborne pixies drifted forward. No reason to think she’d lead from behind, especially if she was going to take on being virdana of a giant-pixie clan. Giants were generally short tempered and knew how to hold a grudge. For generations, if necessary. They were also fiercely independent and liked to solve their problems with violence. A pixie would have to be tough to lead that sort of group.

  The bride-to-be’s silvery green hair was braided tight against her skull. Her clothing was dull mottled brown and green, the color of trees. Great camouflage. Her eyes were tarnished silver; her wings a blur of lavender, blue, orange, and pink.

  “I am Nayena of the Moontree Clan. I will be married this night,” she said in a surprisingly deep voice. She enunciated carefully, hitting the hard consonants sharply.

  Mal gave her a slight bow. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with you and the groom when he arrives.”

  One of the other pixies darted forward, saying something quickly in a fluid language Mal didn’t understand. Nayena responded and the other one got a little louder and emphatic, gesturing with his bow.

  Before he could complete the movement, she spun in the air and gave him a roundhouse kick, sending him careening into several of their companions. Ouch. That gave new meaning to Bridezilla. But she wasn’t done. She darted after him, chastising him in a furious voice, then whirled on th
e others, speaking rapidly, before turning back to Mal.

  “About what is this?”

  “An update on the wedding plans.”

  She scowled. “No changes. It was agreed in the contract.”

  Mal nodded. “The housekeeper just wants to make sure that you and the groom are satisfied with the progress.”

  Her chin rose. “We are satisfied. We must. It is agreed.”

  And giants were supposed to be obstinate. With subtlety off the table, Mal smiled her favorite serial-killer-about-to-get-down-to-business smile and cast a bubble spell around the two of them to keep anybody else from overhearing.

  “Someone’s been out killing people in order to stop your wedding. I need to speak to you and your groom about it. Privately, as we don’t know who might be involved.”

  Mal dropped the bubble shield. Nayena’s scowl deepened as she thought, and she whirled around.

  “I go. Wait here.”

  The male who’d protested before darted up beside her, arguing vociferously. This time, Nayena didn’t go all Bruce Lee on him, but instead bent close and whispered something against his ear. He shook his head, and their argument became very quiet.

  At that moment, a dozen more pixies arrived the same way that Mal had. They buzzed in through the curtain and stopped sharply, eyeing the others, then flew around them into the grotto without even a greeting.

  Oh, goody. More suspects. Of course, everybody on the guest list already was.

  “Are you coming?” she asked Nayena.

  “Not alone,” declared the male with her.

  Mal might have thought that he was jealous, maybe a jilted lover, but pixies didn’t work that way. They had deep ties of clan and friendship, but lovers were just for fun.

  “She’s not alone. She’s with me. I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” she said.

  As expected, he snorted disbelief and turned his back.

  Mal’s fingers twitched, tempted to see how he liked getting pranked. Maybe a couple of weeping boils on his dick or a dozen centipedes in his ass crack would do the trick.