by R. J. Blain
“Exactly?”
“Well, yes. That is the point.”
“Art counterfeiting is a big business. A big and very illegal business, Layla.”
“Huh. Does that mean I’m good at it?”
“That’s a very good question. If you’re good at painting, you could make a career out of that, especially if you’re good enough to counterfeit a painting.”
“But what would I paint?”
“Anything you wanted. You could go outside and paint what you see, and if the painting is good enough, someone will buy it. People will buy art simply for the reason they like it.”
“Oh. Is art valuable?”
“If you were painting counterfeit art being passed off as the real thing, let’s just say that one painting would make a crook very, very rich. That’s more likely the reason than your sewing, unless you’re sewing something that’s also a counterfeit of some sort. Give me a minute.” Westin tapped the screen of his phone before holding it to his ear. “Your Honor, I think I’ve figured out why they wanted to keep Miss Kellen incarcerated. When we were discussing life skills, she told me she would sew, and when I said it was unlikely that would be worth gaming the system over, she told me she’s recreated various paintings, both in embroidery and as new paintings. When I asked her if she was recreating exact duplicates, she said, rather directly, that was the point. You may want to get angelic verification of what’s going on, as there might be an art counterfeiting ring lurking in the prison system, and Miss Kellen might be one of their skilled laborers they’d rather not have leave the system.”
The unicorns listened with interest, and the stallion looked ready to spit at someone. “Please don’t spit on the incubus, Dean the Bean. Or on me, for that matter. I don’t have any other duds.”
“We’ll take care of your clothing situation once we’re done here,” Westin informed me.
“How? Do we have to steal new duds?”
“No. You’ll buy them.”
“Shit. I’m going to have to count?”
“No. I’ll count and show you how to use your card properly, and I’ll explain how the counting works after the fact. If I try to explain it beforehand, we’ll never leave the store.”
“This sounds unfairly complicated.”
“Sorry, Your Honor. Miss Kellen is understandably confused about how we’ll be proceeding. If this is a counterfeiting ring, she will require protection—more protection than a pair of unicorns and myself can provide. My initial impression is that, due to the number of judges and attorneys potentially involved, this is a well-established ring involving a great deal of money. I’ll ask her.” Westin sighed. “Layla, how long have you been painting?”
“I guess when I first got there. They needed something for me to do, because I was too little to use the machines like the older kids in the system. I liked the painting.” I frowned. “I did something wrong, didn’t I?”
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just going to make this complicated mess even more complicated, and this job wasn’t as simple as I thought it would be. Oh, well. At least I won’t get bored.”
“Heaven forbid,” I muttered.
Dean kicked a hoof and spit on the far wall. All things considered, I agreed with his general opinion, and as I hadn’t asked him to refrain from spitting entirely, I held my peace.
I wanted to do something a lot worse than spit.
“Hey, Westin?”
“Yes, Layla?”
“Is stabbing these assholes illegal?”
“Unfortunately, it is.”
“Well, that’s a bummer. If I can’t stab them, can I burn them?”
“No, you can’t burn them.”
“Run them over in a stolen prison bus?”
“Even if you used your own bus, it would still be illegal. Stealing the prison bus would just make it even more illegal.”
“I guess drowning them is out, too.”
“You’re catching on.”
“What can I do?”
“Very little, I’m afraid. That’s the problem with humans. Justice isn’t usually all that just. I’d go with the fire route, personally, and make it a very slow roast. Alas, that’s illegal. Foolishness, if you ask me.”
Both unicorns sighed.
“I don’t think the unicorns like the idea of a slow roast, Westin.”
“Neither does the judge on the phone with me. I can’t imagine why.”
“Me, neither. So, what’s next?”
“Let me finish this call, and we’ll figure the rest out. We won’t be stealing anything, however. I recommend keeping your hands in your pockets to mitigate any temptation. Let’s get you through your first day of freedom without adding another petty misdemeanor to your list.”
While I thought the incubus was a fool to ask for a miracle, I’d give putting my hands in my pockets a try. Maybe it would help.
I had my doubts, but I would try.
Chapter Four
Westin, Judge Davids, an angel, and a herd of attorneys had a field day with the story of how I’d sewn, embroidered, and painted my way to a major felony, one I wouldn’t face charges for, as I’d had no way of knowing duplicating paintings counted as a serious crime. I found the fiasco amusing while the unicorns napped.
After several hours of answering questions and one stint of having an angel rummage through my memories to confirm I could do as I claimed, the judge ordered Westin to take me to my new residence.
The angel’s sifting through my memories left me with a headache, and by the time we got around to shopping for new clothes, I was too damned tired to steal anything. I kept my hands to myself, handed the magical money-providing card to the store clerk, and followed Westin’s instructions on how to finalize the payment.
“In bad news, the delays at the courthouse have ruined my plans. In worse news, most hotels aren’t going to be keen on welcoming unicorns in their rooms, so you two freeloaders are going to have to shift and make yourselves useful—or attach rockets to your ass and run us halfway across the state. While I know how to ride, Layla does not.”
“They can shift?” I regarded the unicorns with interest. “I thought unicorns were just, well, fancy horses with horns. I guess that means they really do speak English?”
“They speak English. It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re fluent in several languages. Unicorns are quick learners, although they do tend to be prudes. They also tend to mate for life, and that puts a crimp in my style. I certainly wouldn’t pick a unicorn. I’d be expected to stick around.”
“How tragic.”
“It really is.”
Dean snorted, and I recognized the gruff sound in his throat as him preparing to spit. I grabbed my heaviest bag and prepared to wage war. “Go ahead and try me. I’ll shank you with my clothes.”
“You can’t shank someone with your clothing, Layla.”
“Watch me.”
After careful consideration, the stallion turned his head and refrained from snorting—or spitting.
“That’s right, buddy. Keep on walking. I meant it. Try me. I really will put your furry ass in your place.”
“We’re going to have to work on your aggression,” Westin announced.
“Why? It’s been useful. Nobody screwed around with me in prison. The first time I shanked someone with a metal bowl, they learned they better be ready for a fight. And trust me, it takes a lot of effort to shank somebody with a metal bowl.”
“I see we’re going to have to have a talk about sanctioned uses of violence.”
“I don’t shank anyone who doesn’t start something with me first. The unicorn was going to spit on me. If he spits on me, his furry ass is getting a smackdown.”
“You should just tell him he’s not a llama.”
“I don’t think he’ll care. Bean does not seem to be a very caring unicorn unless he’s going after idiot attorneys. But I already paid my dues there. I shared my cupcake with them.”
Westin sho
ok his head. “Please just shift. It’s not like you were going to hide your secret forever. She would’ve figured it out when she couldn’t figure out where the hell you two were going to the bathroom without leaving piles of shit everywhere for her to clean up.”
I thought about that. “That’s a good point. A unicorn can’t use a toilet.”
“Well, I’m sure they could, but they’d have to be really careful with their aim, and it would end in a clogged toilet.”
“I really will shank them with my clothes if they clog the toilet. I’ve unclogged toilets before, and that is not one of my favorite jobs.”
“Then we’re agreed. The unicorns will shift, you’ll be properly introduced, and we’ll get this show on the road tomorrow because we’re not getting anywhere tonight. For some reason, there’s a lack of licensed drivers among us.”
“You don’t have a license?”
“Why drive when I can teleport?”
“That’s cheating.”
“I’m an incubus. That’s what I do.”
As unicorns were white and gray, I expected pasty humans to go with their pale coats. Xena showed up first, and my brows shot up at the dark tone of her skin, the closest to black I’d ever seen in a living, breathing person without the help of paint. She’d even found a tight shirt and jeans the perfect match of her skin. She looked me over with her blue eyes, and I got the feeling she found me lacking in every way.
“You need a lot of work. How am I going to take over the world if I have to hold your hand all the damned time?” she asked, and she put her hands on her hips.
“Remember what I said about shanking you with my clothes?”
“I do.”
“I have multiple techniques I can use to shank you with this bag of clothes. There will be no attempts to take over the world while I’m on parole. If I go to prison again, I want it to be for something better than shanking a stubborn ass unicorn with my jeans.”
“Is there any reason you decided to be an ebony beauty today, Xena?”
“You’re hot, and I’ve been itching to tame an incubus.”
Westin disappeared.
“Okay. Well, it’s not like he was going to teach me how math works or English or anything. Way to go, Xena.”
“You don’t need math skills when you do what I say while we take over the world. That said, he ran faster than I expected. It’s not like I would’ve tamed him for mating purposes. Incubi might be good at sex, but they’re a lot of work outside of bed, and what woman has time for that nonsense?”
I had no idea. “And where’s your brother?”
“Trying to make himself even half as pretty as me so he can impress you, probably. That’s what stallions do around interesting mares. Er, women.” Xena shrugged. “All stallions are obnoxious until they’ve settled down. You may just want to beat him off with a stick. Otherwise, he’ll stick around, and as his sister, I can promise you it’s annoying.”
“By my parole terms, you both have to stick around for a period of six months.”
“Well, you’re getting the short end of that deal.”
“Well, it is parole. That’s how it works. It’s a short end of the deal, but at least it’s the short end of the deal dealt with outside of prison. Granted, the longest I’ve successfully stayed out of jail has been a day. Less than that, but counting the hours was too much work.”
“You’re rather cheerful about all of this.”
“What else should I do? Pity myself? I mean, how many people can claim they shanked an overly amorous asshole with a metal bowl?”
“Not many,” she conceded.
“There you go. I might not be your usual bitch, but I’m an interesting one.”
“Would you like some help shanking my brother? I feel like he should be punished for getting us into this. I was promised excitement and adventure, not this.”
“What do you mean by this?”
“Prancing around North Carolina with a kleptomaniac drug addict with a temper issue and a generalized malfunction.”
I considered her stance, and realistically, I couldn’t argue with her except on one point. “I cleaned up, so can we scratch the drug addict part from the record?”
“Sure. Okay. That’s fair. You have a temper issue with a generalized malfunction.”
“And a kleptomaniac’s restraint.”
“You like that phrase too much.”
“What can I say? It’s the simple things in life.”
Xena shook her head. “Nope. Not anymore. If we’re going to take over the world, those simple ways have to go. We’re not going to take over the world being simple. We’re going to be elaborate and glorious.”
At long last, I’d found someone crazier than I was. “Pitch me again in six months and a day, all right?”
“I am willing to compromise on this. Six months and a day, then. That might be enough time to teach you everything that’s important.”
“Let me guess. You only view things that help you take over the world as important.”
“You would be correct. But money, how money works, and how to make more money are important skills, so I will teach you.”
“And what is Dean’s malfunction again?”
“He is single and male.”
“I’m single but not male. And? You’re single and not male.”
“The not male part of things is important. We’re sensible creatures. Males are not.”
“That seems a little harsh.”
“You’ll learn soon enough, Layla. Men want women for one of five things.”
I worried for my sanity, but my curiosity reared its ugly head. “What five things?”
“Sex, sex, sex, sex, and food.”
“I may not be math inclined, but I have five fingers on my hand, and that’s two things, with one of those things repeated.”
“Well, you’re not completely hopeless. Good. In actuality, it’s sex, food, babies, someone to protect, and someone to pamper. Stallions are all about the protecting and the pampering, but they really enjoy sex, food, and babies, too. Really, there’s worse things in life than an attentive stallion.”
I seriously doubted her opinion held much ground in the real world, but I wouldn’t poke the crazy with a stick and point that out to her. Fortunately, she’d left me with a safe opening. “There are things worse than an attentive stallion? Like what?”
“Cowardly incubi. Just because we settle down for life when we do doesn’t mean we don’t test the waters first, and trust me on this one, Layla. You want a man who rocks your world in bed and out of it. Of course, it’s a challenge to get a unicorn in bed in the first place, and if you’ve jumped through all those hoops, chances are, the unicorn is going to keep you, but we do not immediately bond with the first person we screw. I most certainly am not a virgin. I just haven’t found a stallion who rocks my world in and out of bed. That incubus? He’d rock my world in bed, but I suspect he’d be rather useless outside of it.”
I feared my sanity would not survive the parole process, but as I saw no other choice in the matter, I smiled and nodded. After six months, I’d take everything the woman had to offer, run for the hills, and try to stay on the right side of the law for a change.
I just had to survive through six months trying to herd a pair of unicorns.
I sure hoped Heaven would help me, because I needed all the help I could get.
In retrospect, I shouldn’t have assumed that because Xena was a black woman that Dean would also be black. People came in all shapes, sizes, and colors, and Dean’s skin was a sun-kissed bronze tone. Like his sister, he had black hair, but instead of tight curls, he had more of a fluffy, short-cropped mane that tempted me to run my fingers through it.
I didn’t. I deserved a cupcake for controlling one of my impulses for a change.
Unlike his sister, Dean wore a suit, which hugged his frame and promised he had a lean and fit body.
All in all, I’d eat a cupcake off his chest without reg
ret.
Damn. A cupcake sounded good.
To take my mind off my first cupcake, I frowned and considered the siblings. “All right. Please explain why he’s some Mediterranean god and you’re an African goddess, please. I’m confused. I thought people came out looking like their parents.”
“You’re actually right; humans usually do resemble their parents. Unicorns aren’t like that. I was born in Africa, and he was born in Greece. We take on the traits of our birth places. He really is my brother. Full brother, too. Mom and Dad are probably trying to repopulate Ireland at this point; turns out they like being pampered, and there are a lot of people who really like unicorns in the British Isles, but they much prefer Ireland. They call us at least once a week asking when we’ll settle down. I told our mother I’d consider it after I finished taking over the world.” Xena laughed. “It’s a work in progress, but I’m feeling much better about my odds now. The next few months will be interesting.”
Okay. Unicorns confused me, but if I had to deal with odd parole terms, at least I’d be surrounded by beautiful, albeit strange, people. “Is all that stuff about women taking longer to get ready for anything not true, then?”
“I was born perfect. I don’t need to do anything to be perfect. Dean? Dean has a long way to go. I mean, look at him. He looks like a stone carver got drunk and tried to chisel a pimp but made him instead.”
I’d met more than a few pimps in prison, and they tended to make the most fuss if they gave me a reason to shank them. I’d only had to beat two pimps before they’d figured out to leave me alone. If the one chair hadn’t come loose from the floor, the second pimp might’ve gotten off a lot lighter, but I’d enjoyed trying to insert a chair leg up his ass.
Hmm. Maybe there was something to me needing to take slightly less violent approaches to solving my life’s problems.
On second thought, no. I’d definitely shove another chair up a pimp’s ass.
While Xena considered her brother an artist’s failure, I couldn’t spot any defects or deformities. He had a softer jawline than I expected from most men, but he could give the incubus a run for his money and possibly win in a competition. “He doesn’t seem to be missing any parts, and they’re all in the right places.”