by RJ Blain
Someone had lied to me—a lot of someones had lied to me.
I suspected the sooner I accepted life made no sense, the happier I’d be. Abandoning my budding career as a paper shuffler, I delved into the dark, murky world of number crunchers. I could pull from my resort experience for my resume for an accountant job; I’d filled every damned position possible at my resort for at least three weeks each, from cleaning toilets to bossing everyone around.
Under no circumstances would I become a maid. People could be downright nasty sometimes, and after discovering humans would leave their soiled underwear in the bathroom for resort employees to find, I’d sworn I’d never work in a janitorial position again.
I frowned. Could my resort work help me land a secretarial job if I targeted companies with interests in hotel management? It beat sneaking around under my father’s nose to work a delivery circuit again—or retail.
Working in the resort had cured me of my desire to ever work in retail. Given a week, I’d be at high risk of becoming a mass-murdering psycho. By the time the holiday season rolled around, I’d lead the ranks of serial killers vying for the top spot of most victims killed in the shortest period of time.
No, under no circumstances, could I ever allow myself to work in retail full-time. I’d make one exception: if I needed to work retail to hunt a serial killer, I’d do it, and I’d take out my frustration on my victim.
Ten applications later, and I considered changing my mind about ruling Madagascar.
Humans, especially Americans, overcomplicated things and enjoyed forms way too much.
A throat cleared behind me, and I recognized my father’s voice. Scowling, I leaned back in the leather chair he insisted I use. “Yes, Mr. Shiny Shoes?”
“I’ve been informed if I leave you unattended for several consecutive hours, you’ll find some way to vex me and get into trouble. Is this accurate?”
“Does my mother love or hate me? It’s a great mystery of the world. If you must know, I was submitting job applications. I haven’t had enough time to get into any trouble yet.”
“It’s dinner time, and as payback for so many years of sending me pictures, there’s a seafood feast to be served in twenty minutes.”
If my father learned how many points he earned with me toying with my mother, he’d never let me live it down. “Please tell me there’s lobster.”
“As I’m not an entirely cruel being, there’s even steak to go with the lobster.”
“Are the steaks those tiny round ones wrapped in bacon?”
“As I’ve wisely noted your fixation with all things bacon, I’m pleased to inform you the steaks are round and have been wrapped in bacon for your enjoyment.”
“Is this what parental pampering is like?”
My father laughed. “I’m not above culinary bribery to earn good favor with the women of the household—and I’m also not above using it as a tacky revenge tactic. Tonight, I get to hit two birds with one stone.”
At long last, I had life figured out. I was my father’s daughter. “She’s going to kill you, and I’m going to enjoy watching the show.”
“I procured a lion fish, have set his aquarium up in the dining hall, and intend on asking if we were going to eat one of her cousins for dessert.”
I had no idea what my mother had done to annoy my father, but I admired the viciousness of his first assault on her delicate sensibilities. “When you die, I’d like to inherit your bodyguard.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Tulip.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it doesn’t.”
“Well, that’s pretty shitty of you, setting yourself up to be killed by my mother without gifting your bodyguard to me. You’re not going to need him anymore.”
“Is there a legitimate reason you’re fixated on my bodyguard?” my father muttered.
“Yes. One, he’s American. Two, he’s a gorgeous American. Three, he makes excellent bacon. Four, he might have a sense of humor. I need to do some tests to confirm my suspicions, but I’m feeling confident he possesses a sense of humor. Five, he hates me, which makes it even more entertaining.”
“There will be rules of conduct. Under no circumstances will you assault my bodyguard.”
“Physically, sexually, or verbally?”
“No assault.”
I scowled and spun in my chair to discover the bodyguard in question was with my father, and he didn’t look happy at all. Beaming, I waved at him. “Hi, Justin!”
“Are you sure you can’t give her back to the mer, sir?” Justin whispered, so softly I believed he thought I couldn’t hear him. I played along, widening my eyes, and portraying innocence.
“No assault,” my father repeated.
“Very well. I won’t assault your bodyguard without his permission.”
“He won’t be giving you his permission.”
“Well, that’s disappointing.” I sighed and made a show of shrugging, holding my hands up in surrender. “He’ll be pleased to learn I’m capable of driving myself to and from work. Despite my tendency to attract mail bombs, I’m a good driver. No accidents, and no tickets. Are warehouse-to-warehouse lines banned?”
“All forms of delivery are banned, from pizza to transport driving,” my father replied.
“I could get a flight license and—”
“Absolutely not.”
“When I was young, my grandparents left me unsupervised. Are you the overprotective father type who’ll go to war over his precious little daughter’s plight?”
“Yes.”
Oh boy. “Then why are you so set against me taking your bodyguard?”
“He’s mine. You’ll just have to get your own.”
“Pass.”
My father sighed, bowing his head. “I’m beginning to think your mother was doing me a kindness taunting me with your pictures all of these years. Reality is a cruel mistress.”
“You only have yourself to blame. First, you wrote your contract with my mother in such a way she could do whatever she wanted with me. Second, you contributed half of my DNA, so by the standard laws of genetics, half of my problems are your fault. Third, you could have imposed and taken advantage of my rather wild upbringing and adulthood to visit sooner. In case you’re unaware, I’m well over the age of eighteen. Technically, there was nothing preventing you from imposing.”
“It seems you’re correct. I misspoke earlier. I helped breed the devil, not just a devil.”
I smiled. “My mother really will kill you for the fish stunt, but if you have eel, she might forgive you, assuming you set the plate in front of you before she goes for your throat. Also, she loves shark. If you so much as give the lion fish a dirty look, I’ll be picking out bits of my father out of my hair for years to come. Do try to survive the evening. I’ve been told fathers are difficult to replace, and my delicate, princess sensibilities haven’t been utterly offended by your presence yet.”
While Justin looked pained, my father laughed. “You’re something else, Tulip. Put away your work and come to dinner. I’d appreciate you witnessing my demise at your mother’s hands, so when your grandparents come calling and discover I have been murdered for my poor taste, someone can notify them of the truth. Justin runs away whenever they show up.”
I narrowed my eyes and looked my father’s bodyguard over. “Interesting. He’s afraid of a pair of gorgons?”
“Afraid is far too mild a word. The last time they visited, I found him on the roof trying to hide in the chimney.”
“If you come home with me, I solemnly swear I won’t subject any grandparents on you without your consent, and if you’re convincing, I might add my parents to the list,” I offered with a wink.
“Tempting,” my prey replied, heaving a long-suffering sigh.
First, I would find out why my father’s bodyguard feared my gorgon grandparents. Then, I would decide what to do about it. The task went onto my ever-growing list, and I rose from my seat. “Should I get
changed for dinner?”
“What you’re wearing is fine.”
I arched a brow. “But you’re wearing a suit.”
“I rarely wear anything else. You’ll get used to it.”
No, I wouldn’t, and at my first opportunity, I’d make some adjustments to my father’s wardrobe. It was only fair, after all. If he could change my living arrangements, I could change his clothes. I’d skip the getting mad part of things altogether.
I had a whole new world of terrorizing my father to explore, and I meant to enjoy it.
True to my father’s word, he had planned an extravagant feast featuring so many fish dishes my head spun. His pet lion fish was a baby, and it lived in a wall-to-wall fishy palace with at least ten other lion fish who ruled over a coral paradise. The lion fish weren’t the only occupants, and I had no doubt I’d lose a lot of time watching the aquarium, which housed an octopus and several species of sharks smart enough to leave the lion fish alone.
My mother waited at the table, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re pure evil.”
“I’ve been informed our daughter is the devil, so I can’t be pure evil. She is.”
“What’s the meaning of this?”
My father stepped to the table, picked up a large, battered and fried shrimp, and bit into it, smiling while he chewed. He swallowed before saying, “I’m declaring war, Your Royal Majesty, and I’m doing so with the most extravagant feast of fish money can buy. Our daughter belongs to me now, and should you want her back, you will have to play my game.”
“You presume I want her back.”
“That’s mean even for you, Mother,” I complained, sitting beside her and grabbing the nearest plate with lobster on it. True to my father’s claim, there was a steak, and everything still steamed, promising it’d been set on the table shortly before our arrival. “If you allow him to keep me, then you conquered Madagascar for no reason. You hate when you conquer things without reason.”
“Breeding season is approaching, and the shoreline is perfect for spawning,” she replied with a delicate sniff.
“Are you finally going to pick a His Royal Majesty, or are you going to take pity on my father and participate in some interspecies nookie again? If so, I respectfully demand you leave the bodyguard with me and do so somewhere very far away. Madagascar is a sufficient distance. I further request that if you get bitten, as is proper when picking a His Royal Majesty, you do so in private. No one needs to see that.”
“Get bitten?” my father asked, his tone mild.
“If you want to claim her, you have to mutilate her, biting her hard enough it scars as a public mark of your claim. In retaliation, she’ll bite you back. When you two are done mauling each other, it’s accepted you’re a couple. The mer take this very seriously, and should you stray, you will find yourself short a few body parts by the time she’s done with you. Should you decide to maul my mother, make certain you don’t inject any of your venom. The idea is for both participants to survive the mauling,” I answered in my chirpiest voice. “Aren’t you excited to have foolishly involved yourself with mer?”
“I see you have had a very thorough education regarding the reproductive practices of other species.”
“Mother has been hoping I would get bitten for years and carry on the family line.”
“As I said before, there’ll be no assaulting of my bodyguard.”
My mother’s stare locked onto Justin, and she hummed while looking him over. “Do you want him, Tulip?”
While my mother’s interference hadn’t been part of my plans, I’d find a way to take advantage of her. I waved away her question. “It seems I’m not good enough for His Royal Majesty’s bodyguard. No matter. I’m sure I could find a male if I really wanted one, one with the backbone to handle a delicate little princess like me.”
My mother reached out, and as expected, she homed in on a plate of eel, placing it in front of her. “Defective male,” she muttered.
“Be nice to our hosts, Mother,” I chided. “I’m going to pursue some secretarial work in Rapid City for some practical experience on behind-the-scenes management of humans. Secretaries get an excellent view of the nuances of human-to-human interactions, which should be beneficial if you insist I become involved with Madagascar. I’ll also be practicing my French in the meantime. Perhaps, if you’ll be dragging His Royal Majesty to my new kingdom, you might find some educated women willing to teach me Malagasy.”
“You speak French?” my father blurted.
I took my time savoring a bite of lobster and steak, wrapped in bacon as promised, before giving my father my full attention. “I speak six languages fluently, and another four passably. My French is passable. It’s an unfortunate consequence of being the daughter of a queen who conquers islands so I can live on them. I need to be able to speak to the locals—or to the people living on the nearest shores.”
Justin’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.
Excellent. Surprising him would keep his attention focused on me, which served me well. I ignored my father’s bodyguard and returned my attention to my dinner, wondering how I’d eat enough to justify the amount of food littering the table. The portion sizes were small enough, but I’d still be stuffed to the gills eating my share of it.
“Despite appearances, she’s quite educated,” my mother said between bites of eel. My father chuckled, picked the seat across from my mother, and joined me in pursuing a plate of lobster and steak.
I pointed at the seat beside me. “Sit, Justin. If you keep standing like a statue, I’ll have to eat even more food, then I’ll get fat. If I get fat because you don’t sit and eat, I’ll make you regret it.”
My threats needed work, but Justin sighed and obeyed, although he sat stiffly and glared at the food like it’d bite him. Suspicious he disliked fish, I reached over for the nearest plate with steak and set it in front of him. “My mother eats fish daily. She’s a predator. However amusing my father thinks he is, the only reason he got a rise out of her is because she didn’t hunt the fish herself—and he implied she’s prey.”
Justin slumped as though the weight of the world had dropped onto his shoulders. “I need a new job.”
“Offer’s open. You can make me bacon every morning for the rest of my life. Think about it while you’re hard at work preventing my mother from killing my father. I’m sure you’ll be appropriately challenged.”
“There’s the issue of assigning you a bodyguard,” my father began.
“The only bodyguard I’ll accept is the one seated beside me, and only if he’s bringing bacon to me in the morning. Non-negotiable. The last bodyguard I had needed therapy.”
So many ideas rattled around in my head, and I liked the thought of sending Justin away with my father for a while, giving him time to wonder about me—or forget about me. Either would do. When he returned, I’d surprise him.
And I’d have a chance to see if he was as interesting as I believed.
“It’s true,” my mother admitted. “He still hasn’t recovered. She’s got the pride of a queen, and she doesn’t need a mere male to protect her. Unfortunately, she views females as competition to be eliminated, so my options for protection are limited. I value my minions, and after she sent the first few bodyguards to therapy, the wise ones refused the post—and I wasn’t going to assign a useless waste of air to my heir. I suspect she’ll settle down once she chooses a His Highness for herself; he might be able to contain her a little. That’s my fault. I taught her to be self-sufficient. When she isn’t delivering packages, she’s capable of taking care of herself.”
“I’ve banned her from any courier work.”
“I wish you well convincing her to listen to you. I’ve been banning her from working as a courier from her first day. This fetish with earning her keep is downright disturbing, frankly. She won’t even take a vacation. It’s disturbing.”
My father froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. �
��You’re upset you’ve raised a responsible woman?”
“That’s what minions are for,” my mother muttered.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled, held my breath, and waited until my lungs burned before sighing. “Just go to Madagascar, Mother, and take my father with you. You can scout the new addition to your kingdom, handpick a few women to teach me Malagasy, and set things up to your liking. I’ll visit for a month each year and handle the critical business. Will that satisfy you?”
“For now,” she agreed. “You intend to leave them self-ruling?”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t, as long as you have access to the spawning grounds?”
“No, not really.”
“Then leave the poor humans alone. A happy population makes for a wealthy and happy queen—and prevents you from having a very unhappy heir.”
“Who taught you to be such a pain?” my mother complained.
“There’s only one viable candidate at this table, Mother, and that’s you. While I’m grateful for my father’s contribution of genetic material, you were the one who taught me everything I know. Aren’t you proud of yourself?”
Heaving a sigh matched by my father, my mother joined Justin in slumping. “No, I’m not.”
“You’ll survive,” I cheerfully informed her before turning my attention back to my dinner. “This really is delicious. You’ve won this round, Father. Knowing my mother, she might forgive you for that someday. I recommend pink pearls if you’re looking for bribes, but you’d better make them good. She’ll even delay conquering tempting islands for a string of good, pink pearls.”
“Traitor,” my mother complained.
I counted myself the real winner of the mealtime posturing session, and content with my victory, I focused my full attention on my dinner while my parents bickered and Justin sighed.
Chapter Nine