Accidentally Ever After (Accidentally Paranormal Novel Book 11)

by Dakota Cassidy

  This time, she listened to the warning bells. “Queen Angria? Does she have flying monkeys?”

  “Flying what?”

  “Forget it. I just knew there was an evil queen in here somewhere.”

  Jon nodded his head, the smile leaving his eyes. “Evil is a kind word where Queen Angria is concerned. She rules her land with an iron fist.”

  Now that she’d processed the day, she was finally able to ask, “Who was that back in the forest? The dragon? Why did she or it offer me a Starbucks?”

  “She offered you a ship?”

  “A ship?”

  “I assumed Starbucks was the name of a ship.”

  Toni giggled, clamping her hand over her mouth to keep from waking everyone. “No. Starbucks is a place to get coffee. Like you’d get some ale here at a pub in Shamalot.”

  “This coffee you speak so highly of, it troubles you to do without? Three of you have mentioned it more than once on our journey, and the tone you use suggests death is more desirable.”

  “Troubles isn’t the word I’d use. It’s more like a craving. You know what that is, right?”

  Jon turned to look at her, his sapphire-blue eyes intense. “I do, milady,” he answered gruffly.

  Her heart throbbed in her chest, matched by the rhythm of her pulse pounding in her ears. “So who was that back there? She looked just like my boss from the store until she wasn’t.”

  “There are many evils in the forest, Toni. I’ve warned you of such not to frighten you, but because the land of Jersey sounds quite different than my Shamalot. What you encountered was one of the queen’s henchmen, a shapeshifter. They will do whatever it takes to tempt you into doing their bidding. Things are not always as they appear.”

  Toni barked a laugh, making Carl’s head pop up. “That’s not so different than Jersey.” Or Stas, who was nothing like he’d appeared.

  Jon remained silent, letting his elbows settle on his knees as he stared off into the fire, and she tried not to ogle his thick thighs.

  “So why was the queen sending in one of her henchmen? Clearly he was tailored to me because he tried to entice me with my favorite coffee. What could she want with me?” Because that would fall right in line with what Nina had said about their prior OOPS clients.

  The shoes. She probably wanted the shoes. All the bitches wanted the shoes.

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out as we head toward the bridge tomorrow midday.”

  Looking down at her heels, Toni lifted her muddy, wet skirt and pointed to them. “Do you think it’s the king’s shoes she wants? I mean, my feet did tingle just before I attempted a suicide mission.”

  “They tingled? Describe, please.”

  Toni shrugged her shoulders. “They just got all warm and then my brain and my body were in full-on war. My brain said ‘Don’t do it, dummy’, but my body seemed to know exactly what to do.”

  “The shoes…” he muttered as perplexed as she was.

  “Yeah. The shoes. Because where I come from, chicks die because of a sweet pair of heels.”

  “They kill chickens for shoes in Jersey? This land is hostile, your home, yes?”

  Toni giggled into her hand again. “No, chick means girl or woman, and there’s a story about a girl whose name is Dorothy and she falls into a place called Oz and—” She stopped talking when Jon’s face went from concerned to perplexed.

  Toni shook her head and patted his arm—his strong, hard, awesome arm. “Never mind, the point is, are these shoes important in some way?”

  Jon shook his head, cupping his jaw and rubbing the dark stubble. “In all of Shamalot’s vast history, that I can remember anyway, have the books ever involved a story about a pair of shoes. I have lived here all my life and never heard of their existence. As such, I don’t understand the queen’s ire.”

  “Maybe this was just a random drive-by temptation? Henchmen need to let off steam, too. Maybe he was just practicing his henchmen-ness and he chose me as his target for lack of anyone else. I mean, I’m not from Shamalot, so it was easy to catch me off guard and fool me, right?”

  She liked that explanation much better than the idea that some rabid queen was looking to kill her.

  “I don’t know Angria’s intent. Though, this much I promise, no harm will come to you or yours. Not while I watch over you,” he whispered, the words tight and fierce.

  Toni fidgeted, uncomfortable with having so many people on her side. Which was about as stupid as stupid got, but she was so used to being alone, she didn’t know what to do with so much support. It was time for some lighter fare.

  Placing her chin on top of her fist, she asked, “So you run a reindeer stable? How unusual. Very cool, but unusual.”

  Now Jon looked away and toward the fire, his gleaming hair falling from the tie he used to hold it in a ponytail. Hair she fought the impulse to tuck back behind his ear.

  “’Tis not so unusual here in Shamalot. We have more snow days in the calendar year than not, our reindeer are useful.”

  God, he was sexy. “You like working with animals?”

  “I love my work and the animals. It brings me great peace.”

  Jon reached down and ruffled Carl’s back with a genuine smile. He’d spent hours with Carl on their trek, talking to him and telling him stories about his adventures as a youth in the forest.

  Carl looked at him with admiration in his soft brown eyes, and it made Toni’s heart hitch every time.

  “Does your family live here in Shamalot with you? Got any brothers or sisters you’re looking forward to having Christmas dinner with?”

  His wide back stiffened without warning, the vibe between them totally changing from discovery to intrusion. “My family is in another land, one I do not wish to live in.”

  That sounded a lot like “end subject”. But then he asked, “And you, Toni? What is this Jersey like? Is your family there?”

  “Jersey is Jersey. Land of some of the best diners in the world and where we all use exits off the turnpike to define where we live. And no family. It’s just me.” Liar that voice inside her head whispered.

  “What about your mother and father?”

  “What about yours?” What was with all the questions about her family today? Couldn’t she just be an orphan in peace?

  Jon sat back, planting his broad hands on his thighs. “You’re displeased.”

  “I’m not.” She was just edgy and nervous. Who else from her past could show up and reveal her secrets? If the queen had in fact sent Bree—or faux Bree—how had the queen found out about her existence? Her crystal ball?

  How did the queen know Bree was a surefire foil in a plan of attack? Who else was lurking out there that looked like someone from home, just waiting to fool her? Whoever this Queen Angria was, she didn’t want anything to do with her.

  Now he looked offended. “Your tone suggests otherwise.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t read tones very well.”

  “I know discontent when I hear it, milady. What about your life back in Jersey are you hiding?”

  Now she bristled. That was none of his business. “What about being a guide means you get to ask personal questions, Julie The Cruise Director? Did we hire you to pry or did we hire you to get us to this crazy castle everyone’s so up in arms over?”

  Now his eyes narrowed in her direction. Gone was the cheerful Jon Doe of this afternoon, replaced with a scowling—albeit, damn him, still super-hot—annoyed Jon.

  “What is this nonsense you speak? I’m no cruise director, whatever that is. I’m a stable owner.”

  Toni rolled her eyes as she rose, tugging Carl’s reins. “Never mind, Lancelot. We clearly have an issue with our land-to-land connections. It’s just a figure of speech, sort of. Forget it. I’m suddenly tired. Good night, Jon.”

  He rose like the gentleman he was as she swept off, the rustle of her skirt crisp in her ears. She crunched her way awkwardly to the tent, pulling Carl in with her then dropping down on the ne
st of blankets.

  As Carl settled against her, Toni stretched her feet, her mind racing at warp speed with questions and worries.

  But one thing was for sure, no one needed to know about her family, alive or dead, or why she was hiding away in an outlet mall in Jersey.

  Because it wasn’t just dangerous for her to tell someone her pathetic plight—it was just as dangerous for anyone else to have the information.

  * * * *

  “Aye, ye’ve done it now, lad,” Dannan said on an amused chuckle, his small voice taunting as Jon leaned against a large tree and whittled a stick.

  “Done what?”

  “Ye’ve angered the saucy maiden. My guess is ye didn’t wish to do such.”

  No. He had not wished to do such. He found Toni intoxicating, beautiful with her hair the color of the sunset, brave, intriguing with her coffee and her talk of this land called Jersey.

  He wanted to absorb everything about her, learn from her, discover her depths. She was nothing like the maidens here in Shamalot. But she was as prickly as the sugared pears his mother grew in her garden. Yet he knew not why.

  He tightened his jaw, clenching his teeth. “I asked a simple question. A simple answer was all that was needed.”

  Dannan sighed, the breath whistling from his lungs as he crossed his arms over his massive chest. “If only lasses were simple creatures. But alas, they are not. They are complex, and opinionated, and infuriating as only lasses can be.”

  “But she is surely easy on the eye, aye?” he said on an ironic chuckle.

  “Indeed she is. That is the crux of the problem. Temptresses they all be. If only they could tempt with their mouths closed.”

  Jon laughed, slipping his knife into his boot. “I don’t mind the chatter as long as it’s about anything other than their gowns or the dramatic choice of whether to serve marbled bread or rye at their next tea. There need be substance to the conversation.”

  “And milady Toni is anything but mindless,” Dannan agreed. “She was quite fierce on the back of the queen’s minion, was she not, lad? How do ye account for such bravery from a maiden who claims she’s nothing more than a shop girl?”

  Jon heard the respect in his friend’s voice. True, Toni hadn’t made a single complaint as they’d trudged through ankle-deep snow—none of them had. But what she’d done with that dragon went beyond bravery.

  ‘Twas damn foolhardy. Yet, how had she known to break his wing? Instincts like that didn’t come from selling gowns—or “leggings”, as he’d heard her call them.

  Something was afoot. Something he didn’t have figured out.

  “I don’t know, friend. But she’s dangerous to us if she has no plan when she goes into battle.”

  “Aye,” Dannan said on a nod of his blue head.

  “And she hides something from her land—something personal and quite possibly painful. I cannot pinpoint what.”

  “As do ye, Jon Doe,” Dannan all too easily reminded him.

  His jaw tightened again, but then he relaxed. He wasn’t in any immediate danger from the queen or anyone else. Toni was. “But I’m not the one in need here, ogre. Toni is.”

  “Oh, lad. Ye need far more than ye think. But for the moment, this is neither here nor there, as they say. In this moment, we must worry about the queen. What does she wish from our newly acquired maiden, and should we warn the other she-warriors about Angria?”

  That was indeed a puzzle that needed solving. The shapeshifter in the clearing had been sent by Angria, he didn’t doubt that. He’d tracked enough in his lifetime to know their scents, their patterns.

  Yet, what could Toni possibly have that Angria wanted? Was it truly a pair of shoes he’d never heard of? Toni had said her feet had tingled just before she’d jumped on top of the dragon. But for shoes to give her such courage? It was preposterous.

  But worse than these shoes, who would Angria send in next?

  It was obvious she’d put a pretty pence on Toni’s head. The henchman’s appearance was no random act. This worried him far more than whatever Toni herself was hiding from everyone.

  Dannan yawned, his mouth opening wide enough to fit two people inside. “We must sleep now, lad. The morrow comes swiftly and we need be alert for the sake of Toni and her bonny friends.”

  Sleep. Hah. He’d hardly slept since meeting Toni. The prior night before their journey began, as he lay before the fire, hearing her soft intakes of breath, his stomach had tightened…as had other places on his body.

  He’d watched the sweet rise and fall of her breasts, wished to touch the curve of her hip, the outline of her full lips.

  But to do so would only complicate matters. She was from another land—one he’d decided was quite far away, and she’d want to return to it once she’d been granted her happiness by King Dick.

  Still, he railed against the idea she’d leave, and it left him uncomfortable and out of his element.

  It was all just silly nonsense best left for those who believed in true love’s kiss.

  Of which he did not. He’d kissed maidens aplenty in his time, and none of them did to him what the legend told. He was not a believer in the tale his mother regaled him with at bedtime when he was a child.

  Pushing off the tree, he fought to ignore the soft outline of Toni’s sleeping body in the tent just beyond his and followed Dannan toward their beds.

  Sleep would fix all his ills, and tomorrow, he’d find out what Angria wanted with Toni, finish their journey to the castle, happily drop her off, wish her well, and go back to his quiet life at the cottage with his reindeer and his crops.

  That settled, he hunkered down beneath the rough blanket and closed his eyes.

  Only to find Toni’s face lurking behind his eyelids.

  His sigh was grating and irritated as he turned over restlessly.

  Dannan chuckled from just outside the tent. “Count sheep, lad. It helps pass the time when a lass weighs heavy on yer mind.”

  “Quiet now, ogre.” Jon growled his words. “Or I’ll see your head roll then mounted at the cottage!”

  His response only made Dannan laugh harder, the squeak of its tinkling lilt still, after years of friendship, leaving Jon amazed. For a man so large, his voice was sprinkled with fairy dust.

  “I bid ye goodnight, Jon Doe. May yer dreams be maiden free!”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, as they rose to pack up and begin the next leg of their journey, Jon informed them that he was certain the attack yesterday was personal and aimed at Toni. He warned each of the women about the existence of Queen Angria and her evil and the possibility she wanted Toni’s shoes.

  “So you think the shoes had something to do with that crazy stunt she pulled yesterday?” Marty had asked.

  Jon had shaken his head. “I know not of these shoes, but there is a distinct possibility Angria desires them if they have some sort of rare gift now bestowed upon Toni simply because she wears them.”

  Nina had nodded her head as though she thoroughly understood, while Marty and Wanda followed suit. “I fucking knew it. It always boils down to some shit like this. This kinda crazy I get. So don’t fret your pretty face about it, Reindeer Whisperer—we get batshit bitches. We got Red’s back all the way.”

  Now, as they moved deeper into the forest, Nina snaked a hand upward and captured one of the bluebirds who’d spun around her head since they’d begun this trek and brought him down to eye level. She’d been out of sorts all morning long and picking up speed with each step they took.

  The bluebird continued to chirp happily, his head bobbing just above her fingers. “Dude, cut it the hell out. I can’t take it anymore, man. I haven’t slept in two days, and this flippy-flappy, yippy-skippy song you winged anomalies keep chirping is old. It ends now. Your time to come in for a landing has arrived. So here’s the skinny. Shut those damn beaks and you can rest those feathers by riding on my boy Carl’s back the rest of the way to the castle. Keep it up, despite the fact that I love
animals more than I love people, and I roast your little blue asses for dinner, tiny buddy. Capisce?”

  She set him on Carl’s back and, ironically, the others followed suit, lining up along the blanket covering his spine, their puffed-up chests swelling further.

  Toni tweaked the edge of one of Nina’s wings, hoping to turn her bad mood around. “Did I tell you how nice you are today? You sure have purty wings. I’m sick with jealousy.”

  “Did I tell if you say one more thing I’m gonna snatch your tongue from your face?”

  “Oooo, did someone have a bad night?” Toni teased with a grin, rubbing Carl’s antler as they walked.

  “Someone is a fucking vampire who should be sleeping right now, not taking the diva king his shoes while some power-trippin’ queen chases you. Someone hasn’t slept or fed for two damn days. Someone’s about to flip a nut if all the other someones don’t shut it.”

  “Fed?” What an odd word to use for food.

  “Yeah, fed.”

  She hadn’t noticed until Nina mentioned it, but the vampire hadn’t shared in their meal of winterberries or roasted chestnuts—nor had she drunk a drop of water. But the word “fed” in relation to eating a meal was a rather strange choice. “Why haven’t you, um, eaten…or fed. I mean, why didn’t you have some berries with us last night? We had plenty. I would have shared, too.”

  “Because Crustypants can’t eat food anymore,” Marty teased, yanking the length of Nina’s dirty yellow skirt.

  Toni fought an astonished gasp as they climbed yet another hill. “Then what do you eat to live?”

  “I don’t live, numbnuts. I’m dead, remember?”

  Then something registered. Maybe it was a fact from a movie or a TV show or whatever, but it would be another of her worst fears realized since she’d first learned Nina was a vampire. But no. She didn’t really drink…Did she?

  Toni stopped for a moment, putting her hand on Nina’s arm. “So then you really eat—”

  “Blood. More specifically, I drink blood, and I’m gonna need some soon. Any particular spot on your neck you want me to tap first?” Nina lifted her cracked sunglasses and glared down at Toni.