Fowl Play

by RJ Blain

  “I haven’t tried to dance with a hangover before, so I’m going to take your word for it. I expect by the time this week is over, the partner I’m assigned to will want to kill me. I can dance, but I can’t dance to the level of a professional. The retreat needed an extra man, and I barely met the minimum requirements. Should I bring flowers as an apology in advance?”

  I laughed and waved him off. “Do your best. If you get a diva, there’s not much you can do about it. This isn’t a competition, so it’s not like you’re going to hurt her chances for the future. It’s for expansion of skills. Worry more about having a good time and don’t worry too much about your partner.”

  “Why do I have a feeling most other dancers aren’t going to have the same mentality?”

  “I’d say you’re smart, but you mouthed off to an angel. She’s probably visiting the heavens now waiting to smite you for your mouthy ways.”

  Kenneth laughed. “The funny thing about this? I wasn’t even trying to mouth off that time.”

  “You’re going to have to work on that. When stuck with an angel, a succubus, and a lycanthrope, your ability to mouth off might be the only thing capable of saving you from a triple dose of snark coupled with parental disappointment.”

  “Maybe I should have insisted you visit my parents instead. They just have a disgusting magic rating and inflated egos. They also work in law enforcement. It’s a family tradition.”

  I snorted. “Sounds safer to me. Despite appearances, I can go out without doing anything illegal. It was just the one time!”

  “Sure, jail bird. Whatever you say.”

  Wine and a big dinner conspired to create an early bedtime, and I only made it to the couch before I crashed and burned. Kenneth laughed, and the sound was so pleasant I fought sleep to listen. The next thing I knew, my phone blared to warn me I needed to get my ass out of bed. I reached for it, fell off the couch, and smacked into the carpet. A thick, warm blanket fell onto me, and I questioned if I wanted to get up to turn the alarm off.

  I groaned, reached for the insufferable device my parents insisted I carry with me at all times, and fumbled for the button to silence it.

  “You make the cutest little honk when you snore. I assume this is something you inherited from your father.”

  Fuck. Kenneth.

  For ten whole seconds, I’d forgotten I shared a hotel room with him. Stupid wine. Stupid, ridiculously expensive dinner at a ridiculously fancy resort hotel restaurant. My contribution to the groceries would be every package of ramen I could get my hands on for a month making up for my indulgence, snuck in whenever my parents weren’t looking so they wouldn’t go on another tirade over my poor life choices.

  At least Kenneth had the decency to give me something worth feigning indignant rage over. “I do not honk.”

  “You honk. I even recorded it as irrefutable evidence of your rather unique snore. In good news, you don’t honk loudly. In even better news, I got all my laughing out of the way while you were sleeping. I’ll even be a generous soul and promise I won’t betray your honking secret. I’m so generous I won’t even blackmail you over it.”

  While breaking my phone would summon the wrath of all three of my parents, breaking it over Kenneth’s egotistical head would be worth it. Instead of assaulting him for daring to tease me about my snore, I crawled from beneath the blanket and headed for the safety of my bedroom. “How long do we have until breakfast?”

  “I’d love to be your social secretary for the week. We have an hour to head down for breakfast, then we have an hour-long lecture about what to expect for the rest of the week, which will include our partner assignments. After that, hell begins.”

  “Why did you even pick this if you think it’s hell?”

  “My other choices were to work at a cattle ranch for a week or go sailing. While I don’t mind the water, fishing for a week without returning to land even once does not seem like my idea of a good time. As I’ve never ridden a horse before, I figured the cattle ranch was a disaster waiting to happen. I can dance, just not at your level.”

  “I don’t doubt it. You’ll be fine. I need to take a shower and get changed. I’ll be ready in ten.”

  “What’s this? You’re one of the mythical women who doesn’t take an eternity in the bathroom in the morning? Obviously, I should’ve recommended house arrest. In my house. I’m assuming, judging from your ma’s insistence on offering a dowry, you’re single?”

  “Obviously. The only boys I’ve considered are lycanthropes, and none of them met my father’s approval, so in classical lycanthrope father fashion, he drove them off. I think Mom took me to that bar to find me someone, gave up hope, and hooked me up with pixie dust to take off the edge of eternal disappointment in the bachelor pool.” I shrugged, grabbed the bag with my dance apparel, and hauled it into my bathroom. “How are you even single?”

  “I’ve been told I’m married to my job. Should I take that question as an expression of interest?”

  Ma would need to suffer the pains of hell for putting me in this situation. Or, more accurately, for worsening the situation. “Take it however you want. I need a shower before I can deal with this.”

  He’d find out soon enough my family was the number one reason I’d probably die an old, wrinkled, virgin.

  I blitzed through my morning shower and dressed in a dance leotard. Not certain I’d need it, I brought my bag with my variety of tulle skirts and my tutu so I’d be prepared. So I wouldn’t come across as promiscuous, I wore my classic black leotard with matching tulle to offer the illusion I wasn’t wearing a skin-tight outfit leaving little to the imagination.

  Some days, I felt more covered when I wore my bikini. Armed with all the apparel I thought I’d need, I emerged from the bathroom.

  Kenneth went the saner route, wearing a pair of light sweats which would work with almost any style of dancing. Had I been a little wiser and less of a skinflint, I would’ve invested in a pair of leggings and a tight top or new leotard for the venture.

  Lesson learned. Next time, I’d budget for a shopping trip of more comfortable clothing for a dance retreat. That way, when everything went wrong, I’d look good, be a step ahead of everyone else, and stay cozy while dancing.

  “I’m going for being the most casually dressed at the retreat. None of the ladies will feel bad when they see me dressed like I couldn’t give a damn.”

  “Do you give a damn?”

  “Not in the slightest. It’s nice to get away from wearing a suit for a change. I wear jeans at home, though. But jeans don’t offer enough mobility for a lot of dance styles, or so I’ve been led to believe.”

  “You’re fine.”

  “Do you really need to take an entire bag with you? I’m not sure you’ll need whatever you’ve got in it.”

  I stared at the bag, stared at him, and scowled as the realization sank in he was probably right. “But what if I need a tutu instead of a tulle?”

  “You can come back to the room and fetch the tutu? I bet you could slip the room key and your bank card in your leotard somewhere.”

  I could, so I retrieved the two cards from my bag, slipped them into one of my card sleeves I kept around for the purposes of using my breasts for storage, and stuffed them into my cleavage.

  “Not quite what I had in mind, but I should’ve known better.”

  “When nature provides you with a treasury, you use it. Where else would I put it?”

  Kenneth pointed at my side.

  “I’d get jabbed with the cards when I had to move. I still might get jabbed, but at least they’re easy to access. Were I a less moral individual, I could smuggle all sorts of things in my cleavage and no one would ever know.”

  “It’s not even eight, and I’ve already learned so many new things today.”

  “I can think of one thing you’ve learned today.”

  “You honk in your sleep, you bounce awake when your phone goes off, which resulted in you hitting the floor, you take showers
faster than I do, and you store things in your cleavage.”

  It was going to be a long week, and at a loss of what else to do, I flipped him the bird and headed for the door. “I do not honk!”

  Kenneth laughed.

  I collided with my father leaving the elevator, and he caught me in a headlock before I could bolt for safety. I squawked, struggling to keep my balance when he changed directions and headed for the lobby. In typical Dad fashion, he didn’t say a word; he’d wait until we were somewhere more private to tear into me.

  “I didn’t do anything this time, you bird brain.” I struggled in his grip, digging my fingers into his forearm. “Come on, give me a break here. I’m going to be late for breakfast. I can’t dance on an empty stomach.”

  “Mr. Sansaul?” Kenneth blurted.

  Dad halted, twisting around. “You’re the one she’s sleeping with?”

  What the hell had Ma told Mom and Dad? “He offered to share his two-bedroom suite because the hotel was overbooked, Dad. I didn’t sleep with him.”

  “She slept on the couch because she forgot she needed to walk the extra fifteen feet to reach her bed, actually. But close enough. That couch isn’t big enough for two. Anyway, an angel promised me a dowry if I took her. The honking in her sleep is a concern, but otherwise, she doesn’t seem to have any bad habits.”

  “Please don’t listen to a word he says, Dad. Please,” I begged.

  “You were offered a dowry?”

  “I was informed I needed to come up with a list of things roughly equivalent to a herd of animals. I haven’t quite figured out how much a herd of animals is worth, yet.”

  Dad sighed and loosened his hold. “Emma, why are you staying in Agent Bernard’s room?”

  “The hotel double booked my room. He felt sorry for me.”

  Kenneth chuckled. “It seemed a pity to make her hike twenty minutes to the nearest hotel for a week. My suite has two bedrooms; it made sense to offer her the second bedroom.”

  “I came to Colorado why?” Dad grunted, turned, and bellowed, “Louisa, you shameless hussy!”

  I covered my face with my hands. “Mom’s not a hussy, Dad. She’s just cranky she’s sorta monogamous.”

  Mom made her appearance, and to my relief, she was in her human form, dressed in a blazer and a skirt that showed off her assets for my father’s enjoyment. “Oh, stop your whining, baby. You were bored and coming to Colorado seemed like fun at the time. The damned girl hasn’t jumped him yet, so don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

  “Louisa. Was there something you forgot to tell me?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “You heard nothing about a certain angel offering a dowry for Emma?”

  “Oh. That. I figured it’s her money, so she can do whatever she wants with it. I might play nice this time and match it. She wants another baby, George. Are you really going to come between an angel and her next child? Honestly, I’m looking forward to it. We don’t get a new chick unless we get rid of this one. Be grateful he’s gotten the approval of both mothers. Behave for once in your life.”

  I bowed my head and sighed. “You wanted to meet them, Kenneth. This is your fault. Ma must have heard you thinking about it, so here we are. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

  “I had no idea your father was a defense attorney. I also had no idea he was a defense attorney with a hobby of annoying the FBI over drug use cases. This only makes this so much more amusing, jail bird.”

  “You were the arresting officer?” Dad sucked in a breath and hissed, a precursor for him losing his temper and sprouting feathers.

  “It was one of the best arrests of my life. There I am, kicking back and relaxing, when this succubus cons a young lady into snorting pixie dust. It would’ve been fine if she hadn’t taken the highest-grade stuff in production. It took three rounds of neutralizer to fix that mess, and she had to be kept in solitary.” Kenneth snickered and shook his head. “She just loves it when I call her jail bird.”

  Why were men assholes? “Please go home, Dad. Everything is just fine.”

  “But I don’t want to go home. I managed to get a room here due to a cancellation. Your mothers talked me into this trip and promised I’d be able to get to the bottom of this nonsense. I was not told you were sleeping with an FBI agent, the one who’d arrested you for illegal pixie dust usage.”

  “I’m not sleeping with him, Dad,” I whispered.

  “Well, why not?”

  My life had turned upside down on me. “What happened to you attempting to murder every single man who looked at me twice?”

  “They weren’t FBI agents with a good record and decent prospects. I wouldn’t complain if any of those lycanthropes who’d come sniffing around were cops with the hybrid form. By the time he’s contagious, he’ll be ready to retire from street work.”

  “Are you planning my career for me, Mr. Sansaul?” Kenneth’s mouth dropped open, and I huffed my triumph that he’d been sideswiped by my father. Most days, I felt like he looked, stunned my parents could be so damned strange.

  “I’m just giving you the facts, boy. You’re gonna be a long time maturing her virus. She’s been trying to mature hers since she was just a little chick. It hasn’t gotten her anywhere. Maybe you’ll have better luck. Once you’re infected, she’ll be determined to protect her turf. Our lot’s pretty territorial.”

  “I had no idea swans were territorial.”

  “Aggressive, too. Check online if you want an idea of what you’re getting into, except I’m much, much larger than a natural swan.”

  “How much larger?”

  “Well, the last time I got into a fight with a wolf, he spent three days out for the count and needed transfusions from his pack.”

  I sighed. “He likes hospitalizing lycanthropes who come calling. He tells them to fight him, he hospitalizes them, and they never come back.”

  “I’m starting to understand why things are as they are. Not to cut this short, Mr. Sansaul, but if we don’t get breakfast, we’re going to be stuck with some high-intensity workouts on empty stomachs. We might snap our ankles due to malnutrition.”

  “I’ll find you later,” my father swore, giving me a hefty dose of stink eye before stepping away. “You keep an eye on my little girl, Agent Bernard.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kenneth wisely replied.

  I pitied him if I did as much as stub a toe. One of my parents would end Kenneth’s existence, and I wasn’t sure which one.

  I fell on my food like a starved beast. My father held full responsibility for my ravenous appetite, which cost me a small fortune every payday to keep from quivering from hunger and exhaustion. I blamed Mom for my love of good food. I pinned blame on Ma for the slow development of my virus, as my angelic genes likely made it harder for the infection to develop.

  While I did substantial damage to the hotel’s food supply, Kenneth watched me, his brows rising with every plate of food I packed away. “Had I not witnessed you eating dinner last night, I’d be convinced you haven’t eaten in a month. Your food isn’t going to escape.” He checked the wall clock. “We have plenty of time. Yesterday, I hated the idea of an hour of lectures and inspirational speeches to encourage us to dance, but you’re going to need that time to digest, or else you’ll be waddling.”

  “It’s Dad’s fault. If I don’t eat enough for three, I get hungry again in an hour.”

  “I’m going to have to adjust the dowry requirements to account for feeding you. That’s how this works, right? They’re paying me off to take care of you for the rest of your life, right?” He smirked, picked up a piece of toast, and pointed it at me. “I’m onto them. They’re just tired of feeding two lycanthropes. A second child is just bribery to convince your father to let you out of the nest.”

  I eyed his toast, leaned forward, and chomped onto it, pulling it out of his hand. To demonstrate I had plenty of room left in the cavernous depths of my stomach, I devoured the piece and attacked one of the bana
nas I’d grabbed to balance a stack of pancakes, three waffles, a leaning tower of bacon, and the lake of maple syrup I’d need to get me through to lunch. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re eating enough for at least five people, jail bird. I’m never looking at ‘eat like a bird’ the same way ever again, because you’re a living vacuum cleaner. If you suck up that food any faster, you’ll choke. If you choke, I’ll be beaten by an infuriated lycanthrope. Please don’t choke.”

  “You had no idea my father’s a lycanthrope, did you?”

  “Infection status isn’t advertised in courtrooms unless the judge orders it. Law is considered a non-threatening career choice for a lycanthrope. Their clients would know, but few others would unless a request was put in. I don’t request infection disclosure, as it has no bearing on cases I’m involved with. Typically, I’m only called in to testify about the arrest, evidence gathered, and my interactions with the defendant.”

  “Do you face off against my father often?”

  “It’s going to make work interesting in the future. If I’m saddled with a certain jail bird, I’ll have to disclose it every time he’s on the defense. And because your father is who he is, he’ll enjoy crushing me in court every chance he gets.”

  I laughed and snagged a piece of bacon, making short work of it. “That’s definitely something Dad would do. Dad, grudgingly, said he’d be my lawyer if needed. Very grudgingly. He thought I should represent myself as I’d let Mom get me into trouble.”

  “That’s a bit harsh.”

  “I recommend you run at the first opportunity.”

  “And miss the entertainment? I think not. What other surprises are you hiding up your sleeve? Have you considered joining a food-eating competition?”