Box of Frogs (The Fractured Faery Book 1)

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Box of Frogs (The Fractured Faery Book 1) Page 4

by Helen Harper


  The woman turned towards me. The moment she caught sight of me, her nostrils flared and she sprang away from the wall, backing away. There was nowhere for her to go; behind her was a seven-foot wall and in front of her was, well, me.

  I figured I’d be more likely to get information from her if I didn’t leap into threatening mode. Trying to keep emotions calm and the atmosphere peaceful, I held up my hands with my palms facing her. ‘I just want to talk,’ I said, in what I thought was a soothing tone.

  Her cigarette dropped to the ground, hissing as it hit a puddle. She jumped away from me until she was pressed against the wall. ‘Stay away from me. I’ve not done anything. I don’t know anything!’

  I swept my gaze across her. I didn’t get the same sense of menace as I’d had from the other woman earlier today; all I was getting was fear. ‘You’re frightened,’ I said. ‘Why?’

  ‘I … I…’ Her jaw worked uselessly while her eyes darted from side to side.

  ‘I promise I won’t hurt you. I won’t do anything.’ I changed tack. If she was afraid, that was her look out. I had questions I desperately needed answering. Trying not to reveal that I couldn’t remember my own darned name, I fudged slightly. ‘I need to know when I was last in here.’ My voice rose. ‘When was I last in this pub?’

  She swallowed. ‘Maybe six weeks ago.’ Her expression clouded with confusion. ‘Don’t you—’

  ‘And who was I with?’ I interrupted. I was the one asking the questions here.

  ‘You…’

  ‘I’ll take it from here, Jodie,’ said a smooth male voice from behind me.

  Her relief was palpable. She scooted away from the wall and past me, while I turned with a scowl and moved to stop her. The man stepped out from the shadows and gently pushed me away so she could escape back into the pub.

  The anger I should have felt was superseded by a strange, squirmy sensation in the pit of my tummy. He hadn’t been in the pub earlier – I’d have noticed him if he had been. He was the sort of man who commanded attention. The very air around him crackled and I sensed uncoiled power and danger emanating from him.

  His frame was large but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. His hair was dark, almost black, with the faintest hint of a curl, and he had a shadow of stubble around his jaw. Eyes as green as my own glittered at me, not with malice or humour but with barely controlled fury.

  ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he growled. ‘You shouldn’t be strong-arming my staff. And you certainly shouldn’t be manipulating time for your own ends. You know it’s forbidden.’

  I licked my lips. His eyes tracked the movement. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘I don’t know who you are…’

  He took a step towards me. All of a sudden I caught a whiff of his musky, male scent. His fists clenched and unclenched. ‘What game are you playing this time?’ He flung out an arm, motioning at my body. ‘And what in Fey are wearing? You didn’t really think we wouldn’t realise who you are with that mask on, did you? Or are you trying to be cute? Because there’s nothing about you that’s ever going to be cute or endearing.’ His voice dripped with disdain. ‘Just how stupid do you think I am?’

  He really wasn’t very nice at all but he clearly knew me, just as the barmaid had. No doubt I was dealing with yet another bad guy here and he was obviously aware of my super powers as well as my identity.

  Desperate to discover more about myself, I blocked out the insults; I wasn’t sure I had any choice. ‘The outfit is a long story,’ I muttered. ‘But I’m not playing any games.’ At his sceptical scoff, I widened my eyes. ‘I mean it. I…’ Gasbudlikins. I couldn’t think of any way to get the information I needed without telling the truth. ‘I can’t remember anything.’

  His lip curled. ‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  I kept my tone as pleasant as possible but this arsebadger’s attitude was starting to irritate me. ‘Exactly that. I woke up last night on a golf course and—’

  ‘Your finger,’ he said suddenly, sniffing the air while his gaze dropped. ‘You’ve been poisoned.’ He let out a short laugh. ‘That’s why you’re here.’

  I frowned down at the small plaster wrapped round my index finger. Poisoned? How could he tell?

  My expression must have given me away because Dark and Despicable snorted. ‘Do you think I’m stupid, Madrona? You reek of rowan.’ He smirked. ‘You should get that seen to. I’m sure Rubus will be able to help you. I’m not wasting my supply of nux on the likes of you.’ He leaned his head closer to mine and my pulse rose. ‘Now scat. Don’t come here again. You’re lucky you’re walking away and I’m not laying you out. The truce benefits you more than it benefits me. Leave that poor human guy alone, as well. He doesn’t need you tainting him.’ His eyes glittered with warning. ‘Otherwise I won’t be so lenient next time.’ He moved away abruptly.

  Realising he was leaving, I lurched forward. ‘Wait!’

  I was too late. The door slammed shut, leaving me alone on the street and gaping. I shook my head slowly and tried to think through what he’d said. I was Madrona, then. What the hell kind of name was that? Who was Rubus? What was nux? And, more to the point, why on earth did that rude man with a serious attitude problem seem to hate me so much? Lay me out? How dare he!

  I ground my teeth, stepped back to the door and tried to open it. It was stuck fast, however, and no matter how hard I tried it wouldn’t budge. Big deal. This wasn’t the only entrance. I marched to the front door. It was wide open and, with my shoulders squared, I walked through it. Or rather, I tried to walk through it but I didn’t get my foot past the threshold. The door might have looked open and the pub might have appeared welcoming but I couldn’t seem to get myself inside. And there was no earthly reason why.

  ‘Excuse me.’

  I turned my head. A couple stood right behind me. The man, eyeing me curiously, gestured at the door. ‘Are you going in?’

  Uh... I raised my hand in vague defeat. ‘After you.’

  He shrugged and walked past me with his girlfriend in tow. The pair of them strolled inside, disappearing within seconds. I stared and then started after them. Once again an invisible barrier kept me out.

  I looked up and realised there was yet another CCTV camera angled towards me. I glared up at it, giving it the finger. ‘Fuck you,’ I mouthed. Then I turned on my heel and strode away. That man with the sexy stubble, glittery green eyes and high desirability factor was clearly nothing more than a nasty piece of work.

  Chapter Five

  Wending my way back through the cold, dark streets, I decided to look on the bright side. I might not yet be doing a great deal to fulfil my superhero potential but Dark and Despicable – DD for short – had given me plenty of information.

  My name was Madrona. It was a stupid name, and one had to wonder what on earth my parents had been thinking of, but it gave me a clue as to why the golf-course goons had called me the Madhatter. It wasn’t that I was crazy or that I had a peculiar fondness for large hats, it was because the first three letters of my real name matched my heroic pseudonym. I appreciated the symmetry. Clearly, I was a being of higher intelligence as well as super powers. I’d suspected as much.

  DD was obviously fully aware of my time-bending super powers. In fact, he apparently had some powers of his own, daring to block me from re-entering his pub. Despite his unpleasantness, he was someone I needed to visit again in the near future.

  So, although my night hadn’t been quite the success I’d hoped for when I’d ventured out, I could hardly dismiss it as a total failure.

  I skipped over a few puddles. The worrying thing was my finger. If anything, it hurt even more – although that might have been a psychosomatic result of DD’s reference to poison. Regardless, the antiseptic cream I’d slathered over the wound wasn’t doing any good. I had to find some of this nux stuff, whatever it was.

  With that thought in mind, I abandoned my plan to buy a greasy kebab to munch while I trudged back to the Travotel and veered off t
owards the bright white lights of a twenty-four-hour pharmacy. Perhaps nux was a generic name and whoever was inside could help me locate it. With any luck, I wouldn't need a prescription to buy the stuff.

  After the gloom of the streets outside, the searing white walls and overhead strip lights were almost painful to my eyes. The only person in the shop was the pharmaceutical assistant. Rather than pointlessly perusing the shelves, I walked straight up to him and laid my palms flat on the counter. I meant business.

  ‘Good evening,’ the man said. ‘Cool costume. How can I help you?’

  ‘Technically,’ I told him, ‘it should be how may I help you.’ The words were out of my mouth before I had the chance to think about them. As soon as I realised what I'd said, I winced. Gasbudlikins: I was some sort of grammar freak. Well, that was a horrid revelation; people who got irritated by split infinitives and verb usage did not strike me as the sort of people who had many friends. Maybe that was why everyone seemed to hate me, rather than the fact that I was the sole superhero in a sea of nasty villains.

  ‘Sorry,’ I hastily apologised. ‘I've just come from my late-night English class and my brain is still in teacher mode.’ I offered the man a rueful smile. ‘Old habits die hard.’ It may have been a white lie, at least as far as I was concerned, but I impressed myself with how glibly it tripped off my tongue.

  ‘I had a teacher like you once,’ the man said, not unpleasantly. ‘He taught maths though, not English. I always suspected he was a frustrated writer. Not a bad bloke. He didn’t dress up like you; he was a bit of a tweed man really. Still, he helped me once when I was getting bullied.’

  I stared at him. I didn't want his life story but that was what I got for playing nice and apologising. Then I winced again – what was wrong with me? I shook myself and tried again. I was a nice person. I was a good person. ‘How … lovely for you,’ I said faintly. Unfortunately, my words came across as pathetically insincere, even to my own ears. Small talk was not my forte, I decided; I should stick to business as I’d originally planned. ‘Anyway,’ I said with forced cheer, ‘I am looking for nux.’ I curved my mouth into a semblance of a smile. ‘Do you have any?’

  The man blinked. ‘Say what?’

  Maybe he was hard of hearing. ‘Nux,’ I said. ‘N. U. X.’ I spread my arms out with a flourish. ‘Nux.’

  ‘Er, is that a generic name?’

  I scratched my head. ‘I'm not sure,’ I admitted. ‘It's for … a friend.’

  The man looked sceptical. ‘And did your friend say what it was for?’

  ‘That's personal,’ I said stiffly.

  His customer-service smile did not waver. He was obviously used to dealing with awkward people like me, especially at this time of night. ‘If you could give me an idea why your friend needs this nux, I’ll have a better chance of locating it or finding a suitable alternative.’

  What was I going to tell him? That it was for a festering wound caused by a tiny nick from a magical sword that happened to be coated with poison? ‘Why don't you just look it up on your computer?’ I suggested.

  His expression told me everything I needed to know. All the same, he stepped over to the open terminal on the counter and began to tap the keys. As he did so, the door behind me jangled as another customer entered.

  ‘I can't find anything,’ the assistant said. ‘Unless you mean Nix.’

  ‘No,’ I answered. ‘It's definitely nux that I'm looking for.’

  ‘Are you sure? Because if it’s for the common cold, then Nix is definitely what you're after. You must have seen the advert on television.’ He began to hum. ‘Nix that cold and you will be feeling bold…’ At the look on my face, his voice trailed off.

  ‘I don't watch much television,’ I mumbled.

  ‘You don't watch much television?’ came a cultured female voice from behind me. ‘What? Not even that glorious soap opera St Thomas Close?’

  My brow furrowed and I turned towards the blonde woman who’d spoken. I didn’t have a clue what she was on about but the pharmaceutical assistant looked awestruck, his jaw dropping as he gazed at her in awe. ‘You’re… You’re … Stacey!’ His cheeks went bright red in a most fascinating fashion.

  She flashed him a brilliant red-lipsticked smile. ‘That's my character's name,’ she said. ‘My real name is Julie.’

  ‘Of course! Of course! I knew that,’ he babbled. Completely ignoring me, he scrabbled around for a pen and a piece of paper. ‘Can I have your autograph?’ Then his face lit up as an even better thought struck him. He delved into the pocket of his white coat and drew out a smart phone. ‘In fact, how about a selfie?’

  Stacey or Julie or whoever she was smiled politely. ‘Certainly,’ she said. She was twisting round to get into position for what I supposed was her best angle when, out of nowhere, a hulking man wearing a dark suit appeared. I gaped at him. He must have been lurking around the condoms.

  ‘No photos,’ he growled.

  Julie gave a small titter, which was entirely at odds with her well-heeled, older-woman appearance. ‘Mark, darling,’ she chided. ‘This man is perfectly safe.’

  A small muscle ticked in Mark's jaw. ‘You don't know that,’ he said. ‘And you don't know what he will do with the photo afterwards.’

  Julie rolled her eyes. ‘He's hardly asking me to get my kit off. Look at him! He's about as threatening as a dormouse.’

  Mark, who I assumed was her bodyguard rather than an over-protective toy boy, folded his arms and glared. Julie sighed. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I can't be too careful.’

  Interesting. I inspected her more closely. Even for someone who was sensitive about her age, she was wearing a lot of make-up. I noted the barely visible dark circles under her eyes. My gaze drifted back to Bodyguard Mark. He was frowning at me as if I were about to pounce on her. Then he moved forward, insinuating himself between his precious Julie and me.

  ‘I can assure you,’ I said. ‘You don't have to worry about me. I don't even know who she is.’

  Bodyguard Mark ignored me and addressed the pharmacy assistant. ‘Here,’ he said gruffly, passing over a prescription and angling his body away so that I couldn't peer over his shoulder to read it. He needn’t have bothered.

  ‘Valium?’ The assistant’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. He glanced at Julie who tilted up her chin and dared him to continue.

  Bodyguard Mark reached across and put a warning hand on his arm. ‘Patient confidentiality,’ he snapped.

  I hadn't thought it was possible for the assistant’s cheeks to get any redder but they did. He coughed loudly and turned away. ‘I'll just be a minute.’

  Unable to resist, I smiled and called out, ‘Can I borrow your phone?’ I glanced at Bodyguard Mark. ‘Do you have the number for the Daily Journal?’

  He took a threatening step towards me but Julie laughed. ‘She's yanking your chain,’ she said. ‘Believe me, I've been in this business long enough to know about my fans’ real motivation.’

  I thought about reminding her that I had no clue who she was and so I definitely wasn't a fan but I'd probably pushed my luck enough for one night. In any case, the assistant had already counted out the Valium pills and was passing them over. ‘Here you go,’ he said, holding them out to Julie.

  Bodyguard Mark reached out and palmed the bottle, before rolling it around in his large hands. Then, as we all watched, he unscrewed the lid and examined the contents. He might have the build of Arnold Schwarzenegger but he was all brawn and no brains.

  ‘Seriously?’ I asked. ‘What are you expecting to find? Have you been properly trained? If you really want to check those pills, you should be doing it in privacy not out here in the open where anyone can see you. You’re broadcasting her weak spots for all the world to see. Why did you even bring her here? If you're protecting her, you should have left her in a safe place and come to get the prescription yourself.’ I glanced at Julie. ‘I don't know what you're paying this guy but, whatever it is, it is far, far too much.’
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br />   ‘How do you know all this?’ she asked. ‘Are you in the protection business too?’

  I hesitated. Maybe I was. Maybe that was how I put my superhero skills into action and how I knew that the faint ripples in the fabric of his suit meant Bodyguard Mark had a shoulder holster with a gun neatly tucked away inside it. I also knew that an old injury was causing him chronic lower-back pain that he was doing a decent job of concealing. ‘You could say that,’ I said eventually.

  ‘Why the fancy dress? Are you in amateur dramatics?’

  Amateur melodramatics only. ‘No. I just…’ I raised a shoulder. What the hell. ‘I wanted to dress up because I’m a superhero. Jeans and a T-shirt just don’t seem to match my personality in the same way that an electric-blue cape and a leotard do.’

  Julie grinned. ‘You go, girl.’

  She might have been charmed but Bodyguard Mark seemed to be under the impression that I was trying to poach his client. He gave me a narrow-eyed evil look, which might have stopped me in my tracks if I hadn't just had an encounter with the embodiment of evil himself, and began to hustle Julie out of the shop. She managed a light-hearted cheerio before the door jangled shut after them.

  ‘I didn't even get a selfie or an autograph,’ the pharmacy assistant said mournfully. ‘No one will believe me when I tell them she was here.’

  ‘Well, I didn't get to keep my place in the queue,’ I snapped. ‘What about my nux?’

  ‘I still have no idea what you're talking about.’ He shrugged. ‘I've never heard of it before and there are no details of it in our system. I suggest you try the Batcave instead.’

  I put my hands on my hips and shook out my cape. ‘You making fun of me?’

  ‘Heaven forbid,’ he said. He motioned towards the shelves. ‘You’re welcome to search for yourself if you wish.’

  I gave the various items on display a cursory once-over but unfortunately I didn’t know what I was looking for any more than he did. Eventually I gave up and stomped out. I’d have to try the internet instead. I could probably order the darn stuff online.

 

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