Tempted By Fae

by Midnight Coven

  Boone

  When you asked a dating agency to find you a wife, you did not expect the woman helping you to keep shouting at you. But I somehow kept pissing Kim off.

  “Jesus, Boone. You can’t keep cleaning the restaurants after every meal. You just can’t. All your dates think you have psychological problems.”

  “But it’s what we do.”

  “How many more times? I swear I get more sense out of my three toddlers than I get out of you. We have been through this. Go back after your date and THEN, if you MUST, clean up.”

  “And I have told you, if I leave it’s bad manners, and what if the woman wants sex with me, which they nearly always do, and then I can’t go back and clean up?”

  “How many restaurants are you now banned from in Withernsea, due to your determination to clean by finishing up dishes and licking bowls clean?”

  I cleared my throat and mumbled.

  Kim cupped her ear. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “Twelve.”

  Kim smacked her head back on the head rest of her chair. “There are only about twenty eating establishments in Withernsea.”

  “You said you could find me a match. ‘No problem’ was what you said.”

  “Yes, well. Brownies are an acquired taste.” She yelled. Again, with the yelling.

  There was an awkward silence while she stared at the ceiling. Then she shot up. “I need to think outside the box. Are you sure you won’t date another faerie? They’d know what your strange habits meant.”

  “Absolutely not. We need someone fresh to join us. In fact, I think I’d quite like to try a date with a human girl next.”

  The colour drained from Kim’s face. “A human?”

  “Yes. Then they can become faerie and I can bring them to the court as my intended.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Really?” Wow, she’d come along to my way of thinking pretty quick.

  “OF COURSE NOT.” She yelled again.

  “Oh.”

  “Boone. You have what to others appears like obsessional tidying tendencies. You don’t like to be dressed, which thank fuck you seem to have addressed now when walking into the office and around Withernsea in general. And when you are in your natural habitat you are around three inches tall. Can you think of any problems that might arise in dating a human woman? Anything at all?”

  I chewed on my lip. “Erm, they might need Wellies? The woods are a bit muddy at the moment.”

  “I’ll add that to your profile, shall I? Perfect match must own or buy a pair of wellies.”

  I stared at her for a moment. “Ha. This is one of your trick questions. I am getting good at these.” I ran a hand through my shoulder length curls. “You know, it is us Fae who are supposed to be full of trickery and tomfoolery, not you shifter folks.”

  She smiled. It was menacing, not friendly. “Babes, before I became a wolf, I was a bad ass bitch. Now I’m both. Good luck to anyone taking me on, ask my husband if you don’t believe me.” Her eyes flashed yellow.

  “It’s a shame you are mated. Our kind would have done well with you in our midst. After the fall of Mathilde we have yet to find a leader of any substance in the Summer Court.”

  “Huh, Mathilde. Has anyone heard anything of her lately?”

  “She was banished to the prisons by the Seelie Court. She brought great shame on us when she kidnapped the Queen of Withernsea.”

  “Good. Long may she remain there. So what’s been happening since? I thought her son took over?”

  “He did, but he has told the Council that he wishes for a new bloodline to take over the rule of the courts. They all believe that by him being the son of Mathilde he is untrustworthy. There is to be a contest, but Araethnie, our elder wise woman, says that only when new blood joins the court will a new fertile path emerge for the future of the Summer Court.”

  “And so do you believe you might be a contender for ruler, given you are looking ‘outside the box’; well outside of a female faeries box for sure?” Kim sniggered.

  “I have no interest in whether or not I rule as King of the Summer Court, but my species, my bloodline, is dependent on new females joining us, and I shall do my bit by marrying a non-Fae.”

  “Well, I shall do my best to find someone for you, Come What Fae.”

  My forehead creased as I looked at Kim. “Sorry?”

  She began singing. It hurt my sensitive ears.

  “Can you please stop?”

  Kim sighed. “Have you not seen Moulin Rouge? Where Nicole Kidman sings ‘Come What May’?”

  “I have not.”

  “Well, she sings about seasons changing, winter and spring, makes me think of your courts.”

  “I shall check this out. Will it assist me in getting a bride? Do they live happily ever after?”

  “Erm, actually, maybe forget Moulin Rouge and let’s just concentrate on finding you a brand new date.” She stood up. “Leave it with me, hey, Boone? I’ll have a word with my colleague who does the human side of things and we’ll see what we can find.”

  “So, in the meantime? While I wait?”

  “Try not to get banned from anymore eating establishments or get arrested for streaking maybe?”

  I walked out of the office feeling frustrated. Was it too much to ask for? A woman who would be willing to come to the Fae lands to live forever? To be my wife and a potential queen? Someone who understood that at night while most people slept, Brownies cleaned, to be rewarded for their work with food. And of course I had to stay hidden in the shadows, until invited into the heart of the home where I would be allowed to be naked and hairy until the day I died. Now could you see why I was still single?

  Leaving the office, I was almost knocked over by a long-haired blonde woman. She smelled human and as she’d just left another office of the dating agency, I took a wild guess that she might also have gone to Withernsea dating to find love.

  “Sorry.” She said to me, stepping back.

  “Ladies first.” I gestured with my arm for her to step past me.

  Her gorgeous smile greeted me and she smoothed a hand down her hair as she walked in front.

  My glamour obviously looked acceptable to her. Given it made me look six foot two, ripped as all fuck, and with a dazzling smile that a Love Island contestant would kill for. At the bottom of the stairs, she held the door open for me.

  “Equality and all that.” She said.

  “Why thank you, kind lady.” I said. I hung back near the coffee shop while she continued walking. Then re-glamouring myself as a non-descript middle-aged bloke, I kept to the edges of buildings and followed her home.

  Chapter Three

  Zara

  Surely to goodness the guy I’d just bumped into on my way out hadn’t been on the books of the dating agency? He’d looked like a fitness model. Lovely and polite but not my type. I wasn’t into that whole Greek God look. I preferred a dark and grungy guy, preferably who liked a bit of rock. I’d put all that on my application form, so I was sure the computer’s algos would work their magic for me. Shelley had been quick to point out that I shouldn’t expect to find my perfect match right away, and that even if I did hit it off with someone, it might take a few dates before I realised it could end up going somewhere. She didn’t need to worry. I’d stopped expecting miracles a long time ago.

  Pushing open my front door, I had to give it a good shove. Once more, I’d left a shoe in the way of the door. Actually, as I tried to step through the hallway, I’d left quite a few shoes near the door, and post I couldn’t be bothered to open, and a few handbags, scarves, an umbrella, and other bits and pieces that needed putting away.

  Tidy I was not.

  I threw my coat off onto the bottom of the stairs, kicked my shoes off to join the others and then I walked through the living room where I threw my bag on the sofa. I was thirsty and a cuppa would go down a treat, so it was off to the kitchen next where I had to rinse through a cup before I could have a d
rink.

  Finally, shoving my dressing gown, and bag further up the sofa, I put my feet up and laid back thinking of what I’d need to do if Shelley rang me later with a date. Really, I ought to shave my legs and underarms, but it was unlikely I’d end up in bed with them, so nah, I’d leave it. If something did happen, I had a razor in the bathroom and could do a quick de-fuzz. Much better that I had a little nap so I could look fresh as a daisy. Yes, that was the best plan by far. I drank my hot cup of tea, laid down using my handbag as a pillow and I pulled the robe over me and went to sleep.

  An alarm going off made me jump a foot.

  “Where am I?” I muttered to myself looking around. Ah, the sofa. So where was the alarm then? I realised it wasn’t an alarm but my mobile phone ringing in the bag that had been under my head. Scrambling to get to it before it rang off, I looked like one of those people fighting for the reduced items in the supermarkets.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. Is that Zara?”

  “It is.”

  “Hey, it’s Shelley from Withernsea Dating. We have a date for you tonight, if you’re still available to go?”

  “Yes, yes, I am. Let me grab a pen and paper.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Shelley proceeded to tell me that I would be meeting Denny Nelson at Captain Williams on the promenade at 8pm.

  “He’s your type on paper. Dark hair, a little grown out. He works with cars and bikes. Says he’s looking to settle down. Good luck.”

  “Thank you.” I told her and promising to let her know how I got on, I ended the call.

  Now, what to wear on a first date? If I made too much effort, he’d think I was super keen; too little and not interested. Fuck, did I actually have any clean, ironed clothes? The answer was that all that hung in my wardrobe were the clothes that didn’t fit or that I wouldn’t usually be seen dead in. Or my funeral suit which was for the dead. That would have to do. It was a black skirt and black jacket and would hide a multitude of sins. I picked up a black t-shirt from my bedroom floor. You couldn’t tell it was creased or dirty. I squirted it with perfume and slipped it on. Then I quickly went around the room, kicking the crap on the floor under my bed just in case. I’d have to make sure to keep the lights off.

  I was well aware of the pig sty I lived in and vowed on at least a weekly basis to do something about it. But living on my own had made me develop bad habits and it wasn’t bothering anyone else. It certainly wasn’t bothering me. Last week when I’d run out of clothes, I’d just popped to the second-hand shop and bought a few more. It didn’t cost much, helped the charity and they laundered everything. The thought had crossed my mind to donate all my clothes and just buy them back again once they’d washed them. But of course that was a crazy idea, right? I was still mulling it over to be honest…

  But wasn’t this why I’d moved out into my own home? At my parents’ house I’d been in one small bedroom and had to clean and tidy up as I went along. Nag, nag. Nag. Here, I had no one telling me what to do and that was blissful.

  It was just also, well… lonely.

  But tonight that might all change!

  Captain Williams was, as one would expect on a Friday night, quite crowded. It was clean looking after a recent refurb from its previous life as The Marine and looked out over the Withernsea coastline. I stood near the fireplace where Shelley had said Denny would meet me and I waited… and waited. Meeting someone I didn’t know was awkward because it meant I was checking out every single dark-haired guy who came into the pub and that was earning me some evil side-eye from girlfriends who followed them in. Finally, at eight twenty-one, a small dark-haired guy appeared, and smiling at me he walked towards me. My first impressions were that he was too short. Yes, he was decent looking. Yes, he had dark hair and some facial scruff, but I was five foot eight and wearing heels and he was five foot six at a push. It mustn’t put you off, I told myself, you can’t afford to be choosy and he might be the nicest guy in the whole world.

  “Zara, yeah?” He shouted, so loudly that the whole bar turned around and it was a busy bar with music on. For a small guy his voice was like a foghorn. He was also clacking gum. I hated gum. I hated the clack, I hated the smell. He leaned in closer and kissed me on the cheek and then clacked it right in my ear. Oh we were okay, he was now removing it annnnddd sticking it on the side of the fireplace. Oh, we had a keeper here for sure. How long before I could escape, did we reckon?

  For a small guy he sure was strong as his hand moved to my lower back, “Let’s grab a seat where the views are, yeah?”

  Confused, I looked over to the tables in the window. Sure enough they were all full. “Leave it with me, doll. I know how to clear a room.”

  Did you just clack near everyone? I wanted to ask, but obviously I kept my mouth shut. I wished Denny would do the same, but it wasn’t looking like a possibility anytime soon. We walked over to the busy tables and I saw Denny go in his pocket and then he threw something to the floor. It was a bloody stinkbomb. I tried not to retch as the odour of rotten eggs hit all around us. Every single person at the tables around us yelled, “Eurgh,” looked around at the surrounding seated people as if they’d got a case of sudden-onset diarrhoea and got up and moved. Denny smiled and sat down.

  “I’m just visiting the ladies room.” I told him, wanting to get away.

  “Yeah, think you ought to with that stench.” His foghorn voice bellowed out and every person in our vicinity swivelled their head around to me, looking in disgust at the woman who had now clearly made the worst smell in Withernsea.

  “Hahaha. You need to admit that it was you.” I said to him as I walked off.

  “Get us a pint of bitter, doll, while you’re walking past on your way back. And maybe a whiskey for you to settle your stomach.” He guffawed.

  By the time I entered the ladies bathroom, I was seething. How had Withernsea dating got this so wrong? He wasn’t my match made in heaven. More like in hell. I was just thinking that thought when a woman with a ginger-bob entered the bathroom.

  “You okay, hun?” She went in her bag and took out some type of tablets.

  I sighed. “I’m fine. I don’t have an upset stomach. It’s my date. He dropped a stinkbomb to clear the table. I think I’m going to become a nun.”

  She laughed. “Oh this isn’t for you, sweetpea. It’s for him.” She held out a hand. “I’m Lucy. You can call me your earth angel.”

  I looked at what she’d handed to me and I raised a brow.

  “Aren’t angels good?”

  She smiled. “Well, I’ve spent time over on the dark side and so sometimes my angel-ing can be a little, can we say, on the periphery, but it’s all to create the greater good, so my boss can’t really say anything.” She winked upwards to the sky. Someone had had too many sherries. “And so ultimately this is for the greater good because Denny out there is not acting like a very nice person right now and needs some lessons in being a little less…” She cackled. “I was going to say of a shit, but he’s going to be a lot more of a shit first. Anyway, I can’t be seen to condone putting this, say in a pint of beer,” she nodded to the packet. “But Ebony sent me here to tell you she’d been sent a message that you had to kiss some frogs before you found your prince. That you’d find the king of your heart, and that fae-t was working on your happy ever after.”

  Oh now it all made sense. This Lucy knew the weirdo from the coffee shop. They’d obviously roomed together in a mental institution. But she had handed me a packet of laxatives, and Denny really had this coming to him.

  I smiled, a genuine beaming smile, which was the happiest I’d been all night. “Thanks, and say thank you to Ebony for the message.”

  “Sure, sweetie. Right, I must get back to my husband. Ciao.” Lucy walked back out of the bathroom.

  At the bar I ordered a triple vodka and coke, and a pint of beer. “Either you’re hoping for a really good night, or it’s a bad one?” The barman said.

  “It’s the latter, but h
opefully these drinks will help us loosen up.” I said. Well one of us would be loosening up that was for sure.

  Pretending to duck down and mess with my shoe, I emptied the packet of laxative into the pint and then I made my way back to Denny.

  “Here she is, my lovely new girlfriend. You all clear now, eh?” He winked, guffawing and patting the seat next to him. I passed him his pint and held my glass out to chink against his. “Cheers, Denny. Let’s get this farty started.”

  “You mean party?” He laughed.

  “Course.” I took a massive drink. “Drink up, I’ll get you another.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Oh, I think I might have just met my future wife. Let me just send my prayers to God.”

  Huh, you’ll be praying to God in a minute alright I thought.

  The place was starting to warm up and so after drinking my drink and getting us some more I decided to take my jacket off. I’d not been sat long before I was tapped on the shoulder.

  “Do you know what time it is?” A guy asked me.

  I nodded over towards the massive clock on the wall. “It’s five past nine, or maybe time for you to stop drinking if you can’t see that big clock.”

  “Ta, love. Not ‘time of the month’ then?”

  He guffawed as did the others with him. Ignoring him I turned back round.

  Another tap came to my back. This time it was another one of them. “I need to write something down. You got a pad and pen?”

  “No.” I said huffily. “Ask at the bar.”

  “She’s dead moody, deffo on the blob.” He said to his friends. I drank more of my vodka down. I was starting to feel mellow and I wasn’t leaving until Denny got what he deserved.

  I didn’t have much longer to wait. Denny suddenly went pale and held his stomach. “I’m not feeling so good.”

  “In what way?” I asked, faking concern.

  “My stomach. I think I need the toilet.” Then an almighty smell emerged.

  “Fuck, I thought you cleared that, babe.” He yelled loudly.