Box of Frogs (The Fractured Faery Book 1)

by Helen Harper

  ‘In any case,’ Morgan continued, ‘that is why it is such a surprise that you have been able to keep the glamour for so long. Without setting foot in Mag Mell, our abilities are severely hampered and much diminished. If I hadn’t seen you maintain this body shape for so long, I wouldn’t have believed it.’

  ‘Under normal circumstances,’ I asked, ‘how would I change back?’

  ‘You would wish it and it would be done.’

  I nodded slowly. ‘I wish to be myself again,’ I declared loudly. Nothing happened: no earthquake, no crack of thunder. When I looked down at my hands and heavy thighs, I was still an overly large man. I grimaced. ‘This was fun to begin with but I’m getting tired of it now.’

  ‘Viburna was probably right. The rowan poisoning is why you’ve stayed that way for so long. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.’

  ‘But,’ I pointed out, ‘you said you’d given me nux while I was out. I should be alright now.’ I was aware that my voice was rising. ‘But I’m not alright!’

  ‘Stop panicking,’ he said briskly. ‘You’ll be fine. You just need a reminder of who you are.’

  ‘I’ve got bloody amnesia!’ I yelled. ‘I don’t remember who I am!’

  He smiled, which did little to make me feel better. ‘Not that sort of reminder.’ He stood up and walked towards me, beckoning me to my feet. ‘I have a plan,’ he said.

  ‘A good plan? A plan that will work? A plan that I will enjoy?’

  His smile turned rueful. ‘You’ll probably enjoy it more than I will.’

  I frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Come closer,’ he instructed.

  I gave him a wary look. ‘Why?’

  His lips curved upwards. ‘You’ll have to trust me,’ he murmured.

  I was tempted to turn tail and run; instead I fought against my better instincts and did as he asked. It was gratifying to realise that in this body, at least, I towered over him. It was also rather pleasant to be close enough to inhale Morgan’s scent. ‘Mmm,’ I sniffed. ‘Did you bathe just for me?’

  He gave a mild snort. ‘You certainly didn’t do it for me. You smell like a trucker who’s been on the road for a month.’

  ‘Right now,’ I retorted, ‘I am that trucker.’

  He smirked. ‘Close your eyes. This will go easier on both of us if we’re not looking at each other.’

  More suspicion flared up inside me. ‘What…?’

  ‘Just do it, Madrona,’ he said. ‘For once, just do as I ask.’

  Wondering what the hell he was up to, I closed my eyes. I was still half-expecting to receive a no-holds-barred smack in the mouth. Instead it was something else entirely which brushed against my lips.

  I leapt backwards, opening my eyes and staring at him. ‘What are you doing?’

  Morgan sighed. ‘I should have thought that was obvious.’

  ‘Is that why our relationship didn’t work out?’ I demanded. ‘Because you’re actually gay?’

  ‘If I were gay, Maddy, then believe me when I say you wouldn’t be my type.’

  I put my hands on my large hips. ‘And why not?’

  ‘Stop complaining. This is far harder for me than it is for you.’

  ‘You kissed me!’

  He gazed at me patiently. ‘Yes. I’m attempting to remind you of who you are. I’m telling your body that you’re not this man but that you’re Maddy. A heterosexual female faery.’

  ‘I know that’s what I am!’

  He smiled. ‘Yes. But right now your body and your magic believe otherwise. If I’m right, this won’t take long. Just let me kiss you properly and we’ll be done with it.’

  My eyes narrowed. ‘You’re assuming that my body will respond to yours, that the feeling of your lips against mine will make me feel like a woman again because of your superior, awe-inspiring masculinity.’

  ‘It’s not an assumption. It’s not arrogance either.’ His gaze remained on me. ‘It’s simply fact. Regardless of anything else between us, I make your toes curl.’ For the first time since I’d met him, his grin had an edge of wickedness. ‘My kiss makes you wet.’

  ‘Not in this body,’ I retorted, though I couldn’t deny the zippy turmoil in the pit of my belly. ‘But fine. Do your worst.’

  ‘No, Maddy. I’ll do my best.’ He stepped up to me. This time both of us closed our eyes – and I kept mine closed. Somehow it seemed safer that way.

  To begin with, Morgan’s lips were light, barely pressing against mine. I couldn’t help wondering what this was like for him, snogging another man who was both a foot taller and a foot wider than he was. The strangeness of the situation meant that it took me a few moments to relax. As soon as I did, however, Morgan must have felt it because he increased the pressure of his mouth while his hands moved to my shoulders, gripping me lightly. My lips parted.

  The moment I could taste him properly, all rational thought flew away. His heady masculinity absorbed me, his stubble brushing against mine. I could feel myself involuntarily pressing my body against his. Before I begin to wonder how uncomfortable this would be if my current body were to get an erection, the air around us shifted. It would have been all but imperceptible except for the change in our heights. Suddenly, it was Morgan’s whose head was curved down towards mine rather than the other way around.

  I inhaled deeply, opening my eyes to see his emerald irises gazing into mine with satisfaction.

  ‘It worked,’ he said. ‘It didn’t even take very much.’

  ‘We should keep going,’ I breathed. ‘Just to be sure.’ I reached up, coiled my arms around his neck and raised myself up onto my tiptoes. I was going to enjoy this.

  Morgan reached up, unhooked my arms and stepped back. ‘I don’t think so.’

  His rejection was akin to having a bucket of icy water flung over me. As if drenched, I sprang back and rubbed my arms. ‘Yeah. You’re right.’ Gasbudlikins. Without looking at him directly, I returned to the chair, sat down and busied myself examining my body. Everything seemed to be in order. Until I looked in a mirror, I couldn’t be entirely sure but it seemed that all my limbs were as they should be. I pulled at the neck of my T-shirt so I could glance down at the bare skin of my torso. My breasts were back. Hello.

  ‘I never thought I’d be glad to see my bra,’ I muttered. I reached down for my waistband to check my other parts.

  Morgan coughed pointedly. ‘Perhaps you should do that later,’ he said. ‘When you have some privacy.’

  I shrugged, still avoiding looking at him. ‘I don’t mind.’

  His answer was quiet. ‘I do. Everything appears to be in order. I wouldn’t worry.’ He nodded to himself, all business-like. ‘My plan worked.’

  ‘I started out with nothing,’ I whispered, ‘and I still have most of it left.’ Almost unconsciously I brought my fingers to my lips. Then I shook myself. Wakey wakey, Maddy.

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘Come on then. What are your three questions? What do you really want to know?’ The faster I did what I had promised, the faster I could get out of here with some scraps of dignity left. I looked up, my gaze finally meeting his. His expression was inscrutable.

  ‘I will know if you lie,’ Morgan said.

  I pursed my lips. ‘This is where our relationship goes wrong. You immediately assume the worst. Lying hadn’t even crossed my mind. I have no reason to lie to you.’

  ‘You don’t know what I’m going to ask.’

  Unless it was about Julie – which would be impossible because he couldn’t know anything about her – then I was a completely open book. Mr I’m-Too-Good-To-Be-Turned-On-By-That-Evil-Bitch-Even-When-She’s-Panting-For-Me was entirely too untrusting.

  ‘Go on then,’ I said. ‘Ask. I won’t lie.’

  Morgan took a deep breath. ‘When you woke up with amnesia, explain to me exactly what you saw and exactly what happened.’

  Easy. ‘I opened my eyes and there was a dead body next to me. I knew he was dead because his head had be
en cut off,’ I added helpfully.

  Morgan’s expression remained unreadable. ‘Was he Fey?’

  I tried to think. Had he had green eyes? It had been night time and I wasn’t even sure his eyes had any colour to them. ‘Uh, I don’t know. I honestly don’t. He could have been.’ I offered a helpless shrug. ‘His skin was kinda green. Anyway, I worked out I was on a golf course. I also found a sword underneath the dead guy’s body. I touched the blade and…’ I held up my now-healed finger. There was no trace of my earlier wound. ‘Well, you know what happened with that.’

  ‘Describe the sword.’

  I bit my lip. ‘It was long. With a pointy bit at the end.’

  Morgan rolled his eyes. ‘Really? Is that the best you can do?’

  ‘I’m not a sword expert. Or at least I don’t remember being a sword expert. It was just a damned sword. What does it matter?’

  He stood up and walked to a bookshelf, glancing along the row of spines before pulling a leather-bound book out and flicking through the pages. Then he walked over to me and pointed. ‘Did it look like this?’

  I glanced at the page. There was a photo of a sword displayed in black and white on the left-hand side. ‘Yes. That looks like a sword. The weapon I found looked like a sword.’

  ‘You’re being deliberately obstructive,’ he snapped.

  ‘I’m really not. Pointy weapons obviously aren’t one of the things in my vast repertoire of knowledge. I was also,’ I reminded him, ‘somewhat traumatised and concussed.’ Concussed anyway. Morgan shook his head in annoyance. ‘Does it really matter?’ I asked.

  ‘This is an example of a sword belonging to a bogle,’ he said, as if that explained everything.

  ‘And a bogle is…?’

  ‘Technically, a faerie. They’re trapped here just like we are but they’re not part of the truce. Neither do they tend to have much power, or to care what Fey like us do. They’re bad-tempered but not typically violent.’

  ‘Except they carry around swords,’ I said, pointing out the obvious flaw in his last statement.

  ‘Bogles use their swords to destroy things, not people.’

  ‘Well, that didn’t work out very well for this bogle,’ I muttered. ‘Anyway, this is good news. If bogles aren’t part of the truce, it doesn’t matter whether it was me that killed him or not.’

  Morgan gave me a long look. ‘It doesn’t matter if you murdered a living being?’ he enquired, ice dripping from every word.

  I grimaced. That came out wrong. ‘What I meant was, even if I did cut off his head – and I’m not saying that I did – I’ve not broken the truce. And if I did behead him, it was probably in self-defence.’ I was aware that I was digging myself into a deep hole here but I couldn’t help it; my mouth had a mind of its own

  Morgan turned away and returned the book to its original position. ‘The truce doesn’t work like that. As Fey, we can’t hurt another. But bogles and other creatures are lesser faeries. They’re not included in the truce.’

  ‘What?’ I screeched. ‘How the gasbudlikins is that fair?’

  Morgan ticked off his fingers. ‘They have a lot less power than we do. Many of them are native to this demesne, not to Mag Mell. Typically, they’re not violent.’ He looked at me. ‘And no one ever said life was fair.’

  ‘I think not being able to defend myself is stretching that concept to extremes.’

  He shrugged. ‘You walked away. The bogle didn’t.’

  ‘If you’re going to keep judging me, I’m going to feel less inclined to tell you everything I remember.’

  ‘You promised,’ he said, without a trace of emotion. ‘Carry on.’

  I gritted my teeth. At least Morgan’s manner was reminding me that I disliked him. Intensely. As dispassionately as possible, I described the rest of that night, leaving out no detail. If he wanted to know everything, he could know everything. I failed to see how I could have acted any differently and still survived.

  ‘The three men who attacked you,’ he said once I’d finished. ‘What exactly did they look like?’

  ‘Ugly.’

  ‘Be specific,’ Morgan instructed. ‘It could be important.’

  I shrugged. ‘Pull the CCTV from my Travotel if you really want to know. They went there to try and find me as well.’

  Morgan stiffened. ‘Which Travotel?’

  ‘The one where Mike Timmons is manager. Or Begonius, if you want his real name.’ At Morgan’s look, I added, ‘And no, I didn’t know there was a Fey in that hotel before I stayed there. It was a coincidence. Timmons had nothing to do with the McNasties either. I checked. After I persuaded him to talk, he told me they were Redcaps. So,’ I said gloomily, ‘it’s not just the odd bogle that wants my blood. I suppose you’re going to tell me that I’m not allowed to kill Redcaps either.’ I rolled my eyes in disgust.

  For a moment, there was silence. ‘Is he alright?’

  ‘Who? Timmons?’ I glared at Morgan. ‘Are you asking because you think I cut off his head too?’

  ‘I’m just—’

  ‘He’s fine,’ I interrupted. I was beginning to get mightily tired of all this. ‘Are we done?’

  ‘I’m simply trying to ascertain exactly who attacked you. It might be important.’

  ‘Might be? I’m glad you’re taking such an interest in my welfare.’

  ‘You forget, Madrona,’ Morgan said, his voice dangerously soft. ‘We’re not friends or allies.’

  ‘Or lovers,’ I added.

  ‘Or lovers,’ he repeated. ‘I am interested in what happened to you because it might have repercussions for the rest of us.’

  I shouldn’t have been surprised or disappointed. He wasn’t being rude; to him, I was simply insignificant. I sighed, stretching my arms out behind my head. As I did so, the fabric of my T-shirt grew taut. Morgan’s eyes drifted unwillingly down to my breasts. ‘Hey,’ I said softly, ‘my face is up here.’

  He jerked his gaze back up again. ‘I apologise,’ he said almost instantly. ‘That was unbelievably rude.’

  It was; it was also unbelievably gratifying. Maybe he wasn’t quite as cold to my continued existence as he wanted to pretend. ‘Forget about it,’ I said. Because I wouldn’t. I reached into my pocket and tossed the Rolex watch to him. ‘If you’re so intent on tracking those arsebadgers down, maybe that will help. I took it from one of the attackers.’

  Morgan turned it over in his hands. ‘This is expensive,’ he said.

  ‘All three of the Redcaps were carrying a lot of money. Whatever they are and whoever they work for, they’re paid well.’ At least that was something. I didn’t want to think of myself as a cheap date.

  ‘May I keep this?’

  I inclined my head. I’d been going to pawn it for more cash but I didn’t actually need the money. Handing it over without a grumble made me appear a better person than I was. ‘Go ahead. What’s your next question?’

  Morgan pocketed the watch and glanced at me. His green eyes didn’t flicker. ‘Have you been in contact with Rubus since the golf course?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Phone call? Text? Email?’

  ‘I took the word “contact” to encompass all of those,’ I said drily. ‘I don’t even know what Rubus looks like.’

  There was a gleam of satisfaction in Morgan’s eyes. ‘Good.’

  ‘Last question,’ I said. I checked the clock on the wall. ‘And just as well. I’ve got a job to go to.’

  His brow furrowed at that. ‘If your life is in danger, you are welcome to stay here.’

  I snorted. ‘And end up stabbed in the back by you or your cronies? I’ll be fine. Thanks for the concern. Ask your last question, Morgan.’

  ‘The truce—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ I stood up and made a show of brushing away invisible dust from my clothes. ‘Ask now or forever hold your peace.’

  He stayed silent for so long that I thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all. Then he inhaled deeply and looked at me. ‘When I k
issed you just now, how did it make you feel?’

  I met his gaze. ‘Like I couldn’t imagine life without you,’ I answered simply. His expression shuttered. ‘Now may I go?’

  ‘You may,’ he bit out.

  I curtsied and headed for the door, walking out without a backward glance.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The sun was already setting when I walked out of the Metropolitan. It was fortunate that I was parked in the mall car park nearby; I didn’t have any time to waste if I was going to get back to the television studio to pick up Julie. I no longer had pedestrians scattering in my wake either – yep, I obviously looked like myself again.

  I was almost at the front entrance to the mall when I felt something – or rather someone – brush against my elbow. I whirled round, my stomach tightening in anticipation when I saw who it was. Standing there, with her head tilted and a wary expression on her face, was the statuesque Amazon woman. I checked her eyes. They were green all right.

  ‘Hi,’ I said.

  Her face tightened. ‘Hi? Is that all you have to say to me?’

  I took a step backwards, scanning her up and down. I was as certain as I could be that she wasn’t carrying any weapons. Judging from the size of her, however, her body was a lethal weapon all on its own. ‘What would you like me to say?’ I asked carefully.

  She put her hands on her hips and glared. ‘How about an explanation about where you’ve been for the last four days? Maybe you’d like to add why you ran away from me when I spotted you in the street. Maybe you’d like to include what the hell you’ve been doing with Morganus. You came out of his bar! What were you doing there? Did you have anything to do with the large man they dragged in there? He collapsed in the street after yelling to half the damn world that he was a faery. He was nothing like any faery I’ve ever seen. Is he still alive?’ She stared at me. Then she leaned forward and drew me into a hug. ‘I’ve been worried sick, Mads. Rubus is acting weird. You’re acting weird. Just what is going on?’

  Listening to her was like listening to a steam train. She barely stopped for breath. I could only focus on one thing at a time. Using her last words, I licked my lips and fished tentatively for information. ‘You work for Rubus,’ I said.