Claire reached out an arm to comfort the girl, but Frankie batted it away, and so Claire just pointed down the alley to the remains of the demon. “Don’t worry. It’s gone.”
They stared at the remnants of the arm that were oozing into the cracks in the pavement.
“That…that was what was attacking me?” Frankie asked, her eyes going completely round.
Claire nodded.
“I couldn’t see it. It was all around me, but I couldn’t see it.”
Frankie’s gaze darted around the alley, obviously searching for answers. None existed.
Claire’s heart went out to her. For the first time, maybe ever, she knew exactly how confusing a brush with magic could feel.
“It’s over now. It’s gone,” she said, unsure whether she was trying to convince herself or Frankie.
“What was it?”
“I don’t know. But whatever it was, it’s not going to hurt you anymore.”
Frankie’s brows furrowed. “You did that? You killed it?”
“In part,” Claire wasn’t going to lie to the girl, but the whole truth wouldn’t do either of them any good.
“How?”
Claire met her scrutiny. Frankie’s breath had softened, and she was staring back at Claire with clear, curious eyes.
“I’m your fairy godmother,” Claire jumped right in, tilting her head back and waiting for disbelief to take root in the girl’s gaze.
Instead, Frankie threw herself into Claire’s arms, nearly sending them both toppling over into someone’s treasure trove of aluminum cans. “Woo-hoo! I knew you would come. I just knew it.”
Claire pulled them both to their feet as a true smile spread across her face. She couldn’t remember the last time an introduction had been this easy.
“Ever since the first dream, I prayed that someone would come and help me.” Frankie’s voice trembled. “I thought it would be my mother somehow. She’s dead, you know.”
Claire nodded.
“I thought she would find a way to come back. And when she didn’t, I thought maybe someone like you… I mean, I’ve always kind of believed in magic…and now, when I need you the most, here you are.”
“Yes, here I am,” Claire said, and the knot that had taken up residence in her stomach since Abby loosened.
“And you really are a fairy godmother? Like, with a wand and wings and wishes that come true?”
“I am. Well, no wings.” Claire swung around to show Frankie her empty back. Wings must be a universal misconception. “But yes to a wand that grants wishes.” She pulled Carothann out of her sleeve with a shower of golden sparks and trumpet fanfare.
“Cool,” Frankie said, sounding like such a teenager that Claire laughed. “Can I see?” And before her motion registered, Frankie had grabbed Carothann and was pulling it out of Claire’s hand. The wand writhed in protest.
“Don’t!” Claire cried and held tight. She tugged from her end while Frankie yanked from hers. A soft crack echoed off the alley’s brick walls.
Magic, sharp and ragged, surged through the wand. It bucked away from Frankie’s touch, and Claire pulled it back forcibly as her heartbeat raced and adrenaline spiked in her veins.
“Sorry,” Frankie said quickly.
Claire studied the wand, turning it over and over in her hands. It looked okay; it felt okay. The crack must just be Carothann’s alarm at being touched by a stranger.
Frankie must have seen her worried expression, for her face fell and her bottom lip began to tremble.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I think it’s fine.” Claire gave the wand a half flick, and the newspaper covering a man to her side smoothed out into a thick blanket. Claire let out the breath that had hitched in her throat.
“See?” Claire dropped her shoulders and forced herself to relax. “It’s just that wands are linked to their godmothers. They don’t like to be handled by anyone else. They can’t deal with it.”
“I am so sorry.” Frankie rubbed a hand across her eyes. “All I want to do is fall asleep at night and not have the dreams. I thought this would help.”
“Your dreams?” She slipped Carothann back into the pocket of magic. “What happens in your dreams?”
“They’re full of darkness.” Frankie stiffened. “Could that thing—whatever it was—come at me in my dreams?”
“I don’t know.” Claire bit her lip and wished she had asked the angel a few questions rather than rushing her off to protect her turf.
“It doesn’t matter,” Frankie said. “You’re here now. You won’t let anything bad happen to me, right?”
“Right.” Her heart raced. All this was way out of her league. For the first time in her career, she needed help.
Harpies and hags. Maybe she needed management after all.
Who would have thought?
Claire stepped calmly into Juliette’s office at branch headquarters. The horror of what had happened in the alley was behind her now, and she was trying to figure out how to play this meeting. Demons, to say the least, were the kind of anomaly that got cases booted upstairs to Upper Administration. And since Juliette had not been there, she could spin whatever had gone wrong as Claire’s fault.
“Juliette. I need to tell you—”
Juliette held up two signs. “One or two?”
“Something happened this morning—”
“No. Don’t think about it. Just give me your gut reaction.”
Juliette jostled the signs in the air, waiting for an answer.
Was this what had prevented her from attending the morning’s meeting? Tension flooded into Claire’s shoulders as she stared at the signs in Juliette’s outstretched hands. One was abstract black lines that gave the impression of a wand with a star at its top. Two, on the other hand, was a green, cartoonish burst, like a firework blast with trailing sparklers.
“We need a logo and a brand. I’m trying to extract who the FGC really is. This one is bold, modern.” She flapped the more abstract drawing in the air. “Black says we’re sophisticated. That the FGC has gravitas.” She placed it on her desk and held out the firework burst. “But this one is a little more whimsical, and green announces to the world that we are caring and fresh—that we’ll put your needs ahead of ours. With today’s emphasis on—”
“Juliette.” Claire grabbed number two and placed it on the desk as well. “I need to talk to you about what happened at the meet and greet with our client today.”
“What?” she asked offhandedly, her attention still shifting between the two signs.
“Well, for starters the GA was there.”
Juliette’s head jerked up. “Did they—?”
“No, she wasn’t there for Frankie, or so she said. But get this. The angel was after a…demon.”
Juliette sat back in her chair, her body tensing. “A demon?”
“That’s what the angel called it.”
“Imagine that,” Juliette said as if she really couldn’t.
“Whatever it was, it looked like it was after Frankie. In fact, she told me it had been in her dreams. Juliette, what on earth is going on here? What kind of case is this?”
Juliette’s eyes narrowed, and it occurred to Claire with a sudden intuition that Juliette didn’t have any idea either.
“Who did you say this case came from?” Claire asked. “There wasn’t a preparer’s stamp on it.”
“From the top. I’ll shoot a message upstairs to find out who specifically.”
Why didn’t you ask when it came in? That would’ve been my first question.
“That would be really helpful,” Claire said instead.
Juliette shuffled both logos to the side of her desk. “Anything else I should know?”
Claire glanced down at her bare arm. The spot where the angel had touched her was still tingling.
r /> “No.”
To be fair, she had stepped into the office with the intention of telling Juliette everything, especially about her and the angel teaming up. But now, when the question was dangled in her face, she shook her head. If the truth came out later, she could just say she thought it was implied. She didn’t know how Juliette would react to such a confession, and if she were being honest, she wanted to keep the angel to herself for just a little longer. Stupid, right?
Juliette rubbed her chin and scowled. “How is Carothann holding up after the demon fight? Did it imprint on Frankie? You didn’t leave her unmonitored or unprotected, did you?”
“No. Of course not. There was a little mishap in the alley, but it doesn’t seem to be any worse for wear. Carothann and Frankie are bonded. I set up a protective barrier as well before I sent her home.” Claire knew Juliette was just covering her own ass now, but she was almost insulted. How dare she imply Claire had not taken every precaution to protect their client. “Alarms will ring if anything goes wrong. We’ll be the first to know.”
“What kind of little mishap? Can I see your wand?” She held out her hand.
“What?” Claire bristled. Now she definitely was insulted. Juliette had crossed a line, several in fact. Was Juliette, who never went into the field anymore, questioning Claire’s ability? Her! A level-one-plus operative whose record, until the last two days, had been spotless.
But she couldn’t refuse. If she did, a demerit would magically appear by her name, now floating in two lines on the case board behind Juliette. So Claire pulled Carothann from the magic pocket at her side. It slid into her hand as if it had been made for her grip, and she held it up for Juliette’s inspection. Why was everyone so focused on Carothann today? Surely, she wasn’t going to touch it. Wands could easily be infected by anyone’s intention.
Juliette let her hand drop, maybe realizing she had overstepped. Instead, she made a circle with two fingers.
Claire twisted the wand until the two bands that shone from within at the bottom were facing Juliette. One, bright green, for Abby. The other, maroon, for Frankie.
“Maroon. That’s interesting.”
It was. The wand chose the color of the light circle when it connected with a client. Maroon was unusual, especially since it was edged with black. What the hell did that mean? She had no idea, so she said, “I think Carothann just knows how important this case is.”
“Why don’t you take it to Wand Tech when you get a chance. Just to make sure it is fine.” Juliette wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I’ll talk to Upper Administration and get back to you,” she said lightly. “Please wait until I do, and then we’ll go to Frankie together.”
Claire was just about to tuck Carothann away when the green band, the one belonging to Abby, started blinking and a soft but high-pitched alarm filled the room. Abby’s case was in trouble.
“Frankie?” Juliette asked.
“No. Abby.”
“Go to her,” Juliette said. “Get this case closed so we can concentrate on the important one. Don’t fail me again.”
Again? When had she failed Juliette before? No time to voice that thought. She closed her fist around the wand, and with barely a thought, it pushed her into the magic stream and to Abby. God only knew what trouble she was in now.
Fully invisible, Claire popped up in a self-serve yogurt store in the middle of Hollywood. Pop music blared over the speakers, and lime-green and magenta stripes swooped around the stainless-steel machines embedded in the back wall.
Abby stood by the Berry Blast flavor at the far end, laughing and cooing as she tried to pull down the knob of the yogurt machine.
“It’s not coming out.” Her voice sounded girlish and silly.
By her side stood a very handsome man with spiky hair and tats running down both arms. One hand rested on Abby’s hip while he slid the other over her hand on the machine. Bright blue yogurt poured into her cup.
“Oh, I wasn’t pulling hard enough.”
“You can never pull too hard, baby. I like it rough.”
Abby laughed.
Claire cringed. How could Abby be so stupid? You didn’t need magic to see how wrong this man was. Claire didn’t like to stereotype, though, so just for kicks, she looked past the baggy pants, the black ball cap, and the red bandana just peeking out of his back pocket. This man was trouble to his core.
Even so, Claire had to bite back a smile. She was back in her element. No demons, no GA, just an easy push to get Abby back on track.
She zipped down the empty hallway to the back of the store and flicked Carothann. Magic like lightning ran up her backbone. Heat and light radiated out to all points of her body. A six-year-old girl, complete with a missing front tooth and long braids, appeared next to the women’s bathroom. Tears flooded the little girl’s eyes, and when she rounded the corner into the store, the child Claire was sobbing freely.
“Mommy, Mommy.” Claire had a kid’s hysterics down perfectly. She approached the pair. “Where did you go?”
Abby swung wildly around, looking for the child’s mother.
Claire reached out to her and tugged on her black yoga pants at the hip, the exact place where the man’s hand lay. He jerked back as if he’d been stung.
“Mommy, Mommy. I waited in the bathroom just like you told me to, but you never came back.”
Shock mixed with disgust spread over the man’s face. “You got a kid?”
“No. I don’t. This is not—”
“Forget this shit.” He stuffed his full yogurt cup into a bin of cookie pieces and stomped off.
“Wait!” Abby cried, but the man didn’t hesitate. She glared down at Claire, whose eyes had instantly dried up. “What the fuck?”
“Not your Prince Charming,” Claire said in her normal voice and shrugged her six-year-old shoulders.
Abby’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the child Claire for a long moment. “You!”
The young man at the cash register snapped a large textbook shut. “You both okay over there? Little girl, is everything okay?”
Claire pulled Abby’s hand down into hers. “Yeah, my mommy just got confused. That happens sometimes.”
The young man cocked his head. “You know, I could get someone if you wanted…”
“No. We’re good.” Abby dumped her yogurt and marched Claire out of the store.
“Hey, you’ve got to pay for those, you know. Once they’re in the cups, they’re—”
The revving engine of a tricked-out car drowned out the man’s voice as a restored GTO sped away. Abby frowned. “Oh my God. Is that his car?” She yanked Claire around to face her. “He was going to ask me out. I could be riding in that car right now!”
“He wasn’t for you. Believe me. You couldn’t do worse.”
Abby tugged again at Claire’s arm. “Look—”
“You better be nice to me. The man inside already thinks you’re a thief and maybe even something worse. Watch out. He’s reaching for his phone.” Claire flicked her wand, and a ten-dollar bill appeared near the man’s hand. His brow creased as he looked from the money to Claire and Abby outside the store.
Claire smiled and threw her arms around Abby in a great bear hug. “You better hug me back.”
Abby did but gnashed her teeth.
The man inside dropped his cell back onto the counter and slid the money into the cash register.
“Come on, Mom. Let’s get out of here.” Claire pulled Abby down the sidewalk and out of the young man’s sight.
“I can’t believe anyone at all would buy you as my kid. My kid would be a lot cuter than—”
“Abby,” Claire said. “I can’t help you if you can’t help yourself.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Irritation rose in Claire, but she reveled in it. She knew how to play this game. “It means
show up to parties when I tell you to and don’t go throwing yourself at someone who has no goodness in him at all. He would’ve destroyed your life.”
“How could you possibly know that? He was cute.”
“Do we have to go over this again? I’m your fairy godmother.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “Some fairy godmother. I had to walk home from that party—alone and in a borrowed coat.”
“I told you what would happen. Weren’t you listening? Look, you’ve got to get on board here.”
Abby snorted. “On board with what? You ruining my life?”
“This will go much better if you understand how all this works. We might actually find your Prince Charming. If I give you the story of Cinderella, will you at least skim it?”
“I’ve seen the movie. I don’t want any mice, fat or thin. They were total nutjobs.”
“Try again. With the version I’ll give you. No mice. No songs.”
“Fine. If I do, will you stop stalking me?”
“Really read it, and I think you’ll beg me to stalk you.” Claire flicked her wand, and a few blocks away an annotated edition of Cinderella dropped onto Abby’s coffee table. “It’s waiting for you at home.”
“Fine.” Abby snorted. “And a new cell phone better be waiting for me too at home. Mine stopped working with all that hocus-pocus last night.”
“Fat chance.”
“The new iPhone. The big one!” Abby stomped down the street, and the pop song that had been playing in the yogurt store leaped to her lips. Clearly, she was belting out the words so she could drown out any response Claire might have, but actually…she was surprisingly good. Far better than the thin voice on the radio.
Claire listened until she disappeared around the corner, and then despite knowing much better, she flicked her wand again. A shiny new iPhone, complete with an unlimited data plan, popped into existence next to the book.
She shook her head. That little flick represented three new forms to fill out since, unlike the makeovers, it was meant to last, but after this morning, who was she to deny Abby a little happiness? A demon might be right around the corner for her as well.
“That was really nice.” Something shimmered by her side, and a gentle breeze smelling of a mountain forest circled around her. “I hope she appreciates the extra effort.”
Tread Lightly Page 4