Adapt Or Be Crushed (The Exceptional S. Beaufont Book 9)

by Sarah Noffke

  “You look different,” Rudolf remarked upon seeing her on Roya Lane. “Did you get a haircut?”

  She shook her head, disappointed that he could see the mark on her soul too. She expected that from Lunis and Wilder who she was close to, but not someone like Rudolf.

  “Did you get glasses?” he asked.

  Sophia tilted her head and gave the handsome but ridiculously dumb fae a confused expression. “I’m not wearing glasses.”

  “Which would be why you look different without them,” he reasoned, and ran his hands through his shiny blond hair. His eyes widened. “Oh, I got it. You got a mark on your soul.”

  Not sure whether to be impressed or worried, Sophia glared at him. “How did you know that?”

  He shrugged. “I know things. Met my fair share of evil spirits who have tried to curse me.”

  “You have?” Hope rebounded in Sophia’s chest. “Do you know how to remove the curse?”

  Rudolf gave her a sympathetic expression as he shook his head. “Sure don’t. Sorry. For some reason, the evil spirits I’ve met always tired of me and ran away. Who knows why?”

  “I think I’ve got an idea of why,” she muttered, and wondered if she should ask Rudolf to teach her his ways so that she annoyed her villains into submission. It wasn’t a common approach, but it sure seemed to work for the fae. He was like a cat and had multiple lives, having escaped things that he shouldn’t have.

  “Well, if I’m honest, I like the mark on your soul.” He flashed her a toothy grin. “It makes you look dangerous.”

  “I thought the sword and dragon did that,” she stated blankly.

  He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No, those make you look unapproachable. That blue lizard probably makes it impossible for guys to work up the nerve to ask you out.”

  “It didn’t seem to deter the one who stole my heart. And the dangerous appearance would be acceptable if it weren’t for the fact that the mark on my soul makes it hard to sleep and gives me hallucinations.”

  Rudolf looked off dreamily. “Oh, that sounds like the sixties for me. Good times.”

  Sophia pointed toward the Rose Apothecary down the lane. “I was headed to see Bep about the healing elixir. Now that you’re back, can you get her the dragon egg shells for the next batch of the potion?”

  “Yeppers!” he chirped. “And sorry about that whole getting abducted thing and not being able to help with the healing elixir business. I’ve got a plan worked up now though, and want to review it with you after we visit Bep.”

  Sophia couldn’t help but laugh. “You wouldn’t have been abducted in the first place if it weren’t for Nevin Gooseman’s vendetta against the Dragon Elite. And thank you for getting us the information that helped bring him down. That saved us.”

  He bowed. “You are very welcome. I expect now that you all will owe me your lives, be indebted to me for eternity, name all of your no doubt destined to be gorgeous children after me, and always be available to get drunk with me and go bowling every Saturday night.”

  “You expect wrong,” she said flatly. “And remember, we’re not doing that binding agreement thing anymore that you fae always tie people to you with.”

  King Rudolf nodded. “It was worth a shot. And no, we’re not. I do things for you because you’re my friend. I’m always at your beck and call, Sophia Beaufont.”

  She couldn’t help but smiled at him fondly. “Same to you, Ru. Same to you.”

  Chapter Six

  When the pair entered the Rose Apothecary, Bep was holding a bundle of smoking sage and waving it at a corner.

  “Just a regular day in the insane asylum, I see,” Sophia muttered, mostly to herself.

  “Oh, it’s Tuesday.” Rudolf slapped his forehead. “I forgot and totally didn’t sage the penthouse.”

  Sophia wasn’t sure why, but this surprised her. “You sage your Las Vegas penthouse?”

  “And the yurt in Pismo, if you can believe it,” he answered at once.

  “I can,” she said dully.

  “Would you two be quiet? I need to concentrate to clear out the energies from that evil spirit, Tatiana.” Bep swooped by them while wagging the smoking sage in the air. The smoke made Sophia cough right away.

  The potions expert gave Sophia a sideways look as she passed and continued to wave the sage at the other corner of the shop. “Oh, I know why the sage affects you like that.”

  Sophia coughed a few more times as her eyes watered from the smoke. “Because I have lungs.”

  “Because of Tatiana’s curse,” Bep countered and strode elegantly to the next corner. Her long black gown billowed as she moved.

  “Yeah, that’s why,” Sophia retorted sarcastically. “Any remedy for that?”

  “I told her the mark on her soul made her look cool.” Rudolf waved his hand to clear the smoke from in front of her face. “A real bad girl appearance.”

  “You would say something like that.” Bep’s disappointment showed as she regarded the fae. She then directed her eyes at Sophia, and they softened. “And no, dear. I can’t help you. Neither can the healing elixir. But for every problem there is a solution.”

  “And for every season there is a scarf,” Rudolf added.

  Sophia blinked at him. “Are you drunk?”

  He nodded. “Since 1981. Steadily. It’s a gift.”

  “Impressive.” She returned her attention to Bep. “About the healing elixir—”

  “I did ask you two to be quiet while I cleared the negative energy from my shop, didn’t I?” Bep scolded.

  Sophia considered going on holiday right then and letting the entire world go to shit since everyone she had to work with made her doubt the whole mission of preserving the planet, but she decided that it would probably backfire on her. She’d pick a resort that was the first one affected by some apocalypse that she was meant to stop, and it would put a damper on the whole “escaping her problems” thing. The only option was to stick around and manage a business that healed magical creatures, remove the mark on her soul, and go on to save the world through various means. Very day-to-day stuff.

  Having decided that the saging had worked, Bep blotting out the smoking herb and glanced up at the pair. “Now, what are you here for?”

  “The healing elixir,” Sophia answered without inflection. It wasn’t too late to turn evil and murder the whole world, she thought. The curse on her soul must be responsible for making her think so darkly…or her patience had waned to that point…

  “Yes, King Sweetwater, do you have the dragon egg shells that I require?” Bep strode forward, and scratched her arms as she did.

  He snapped his fingers, and a large box materialized on the table in the center of the room. “They’ve been ground down to fine dust as you requested.”

  “Very good.” Bep continued to scratch.

  “Nice work,” Sophia told the fae, glad that she could rely on him in this way. He had proven himself quite reliable lately, but then again, he was drunk, so it wasn’t like she would count on him for too much.

  “Oh, did you roll around in the grass and get chigger bites too?” Rudolf scratched his arms as well.

  “No. I just finished washing the salt crystals from my skin and my body is already reforming them,” Bep replied, irritation heavy in her voice.

  Sophia blinked at the potions expert. “Why am I getting this information?”

  “Because,” she answered simply. “It’s a result of living by the sea.”

  “Or of being a dirty hippie,” Sophia remarked under breath.

  “The waters affect everything,” Bep went on, and swept her hand through the air in a broad motion. “They affect the way we feel, how our bodies function, and our minds.”

  Something about that phrase struck Sophia oddly. She gulped. Closed her eyes to think. Then realized something profound.

  “The sheep!” Sophia exclaimed as her eyes popped open with excitement.

  Chapter Seven

  “Goat!” Rudo
lf exclaimed, his eyes dancing with excitement.

  “Donkey,” Bep stated, not at all as enthusiastic.

  Sophia shot them both confused stares.

  “Your turn again,” Rudolf encouraged. “Name another animal.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s about the sheep. Now I think I know why they’re exploding. At least, I have an idea.”

  Rudolf nodded like exploding sheep were perfectly normal. “I remember in the summer of 1745 when crows kept exploding.”

  “Oh, really?” Sophia wondered if he had a clue for her on the subject. “Why?”

  “I fed them explosives,” he replied.

  She sighed with defeat. “Anyway, Bep gave me an idea.”

  “I’m prone to that,” the potions expert said at once. “It’s because of my esoteric nature. It provides inspiration.”

  “Okay.” Sophia drew the word out. “Anyway, I think the water at the Gullington might be contaminated. I can at least look into it and cross it off the list.”

  “Speaking of things to cross off lists, let’s go get a cookie.” Rudolf grabbed Sophia’s arm and hauled her toward the door with surprising strength.

  “Do you work out?” she asked, impressed and allowing herself to be led off.

  “No, fae don’t have to. We’re naturally ripped. I have a six pack and everything.”

  “Of course you do,” she muttered. “And why is getting a cookie on your list?”

  “Because that’s how I think best, and we need to discuss the business plan for the healing elixir. I’ve got ideas.”

  Sophia nodded. She could use something to eat since her protein bar breakfast left her wanting. Then hopefully she’d be ready to take on whatever challenge removing the mark from her soul would entail. It would no doubt be dangerous and convoluted and probably leave her with a new scar. But as long as she didn’t have the curse anymore, she’d endure whatever she had to.

  Chapter Eight

  “Do you gals make cakes?” Rudolf asked Lee and Cat quite seriously as he stood on the other side of the case of pastries, cakes, and cookies at the Crying Cat Bakery.

  Lee glanced at her wife with an exasperated expression. “Seriously, you say I can’t kill the king of the fae? Are you still standing by that statement?”

  Cat laughed and toddled off toward the back. “Just you wait. He’ll kill himself off eventually.”

  Lee groaned as she watched the other baker retreat into the kitchen. “I’m waiting for a certain someone to die, and it’s killing me.”

  “You ladies are cute.” Rudolf slapped the counter impatiently. “But seriously. Cakes. Do you make them?”

  “It’s a bakery,” Sophia pointed out.

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean they make cakes,” he countered.

  She pointed at the turquoise and pink cake with a unicorn decorated on it. “What about that?”

  “It’s a unicorn,” he remarked. “What I need is a birthday cake for the Captains’ one year mark. Something with chocolate and not too much rum.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Sophia asked.

  He thought for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. Lots and lots of rum. They have pirate’s blood in them after all, being captains and all.”

  “You realize that they don’t, right, and giving them a name… Never mind.” Sophia abandoned her argument since it would only give her a headache.

  “Yeah, we can make your triplets a cake for their birthday,” Lee stated.

  “They aren’t triplets,” Rudolf corrected. “There are only three of them.”

  Sophia smiled sweetly at the assassin baker. “Isn’t it great that he’s so attractive?”

  “So great that it makes my trigger finger jumpy,” Lee replied. “But if you want to do something cool for your girls, who probably have everything already, I might have a suggestion.”

  Rudolf looked relieved. “That would be amazing. They really do have everything. I was going to buy their pony a pony, but I’m up for suggestions.”

  “Well, I need to check into it and see if it’s still around,” Lee stated. “It’s invite-only and very exclusive, but I might be able to get you in. I offed the guy’s wife a few years ago, and he owes me a favor.”

  Sophia closed her eyes for a beat. “Again, best if you don’t share information about your assassin business with me.”

  “I mean offed as in… Yeah, never mind.” Lee shrugged in surrender. “I can’t figure out how to spin that one.”

  Sophia pointed at a chocolate chip cookie. “Is there anything magical in that?”

  “By magical, what do you mean?” Lee asked.

  “I mean something that will make me hallucinate—well, hallucinate more,” Sophia answered.

  Lee tilted her head. “What answer are you looking for here? Is hallucinating more a bad thing? Or is that what you’re going for?”

  Sophia sighed. “I’d prefer fewer hallucinations.”

  Whatever Lunis was doing to help against the curse’s effects was working. She only hoped that it continued.

  “There’s a touch of Tormenium nutmeg in there, since that’s my secret ingredient—” Lee’s eyes widened as her mouth slammed shut.

  “What?” Sophia wondered why the baker had a sudden look of horror on her face.

  “Well, now that I let that slip, I have to kill you.” Lee hung her head and looked disappointed.

  “That totally sucks.” Rudolf nodded like he understood. “Can I call my wife first? She’ll be excited but pissed that I won’t be bringing home dinner, so I need to let her know to fend for herself…forever…”

  “She’s not going to kill us,” Sophia said dryly and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m sorry, I have to,” Lee argued. “I’ll make it fast.” She pulled a knife from behind her back with a menacing look on her face.

  “If the cookie isn’t poisoned, can I have one please?” Sophia asked, not at all flustered. “Ru and I have a meeting, so we’ll take the table in the corner since apparently no one wants to come in here, and we can have some privacy to discuss our business strategy.”

  “Fine.” Lee put the knife down and trotted over to the counter. “I won’t kill you, but you must forget that I said the secret ingredient in all our food is Tormenium nutmeg.”

  “Repeating it helps with the forgetting process,” Sophia imparted, then took the cookie Lee offered her before giving one to Rudolf.

  “And there are no customers here because I shooed them all away,” Lee stated. “They kept buying stuff. That’s going to require me to go in the back and make more stuff, and that’s exhausting.”

  Sophia glanced at Rudolf as they sat at the corner table. “Remember that we don’t take business advice from Lee.”

  He snapped his fingers, and a pad and pen appeared. The ball point scribbled across the pad hovering in the air—taking notes. “Don’t take business advice from the assassin baker. Great stuff. What’s next for our business plan?”

  Sophia sighed. “Get a new business partner.”

  Chapter Nine

  King Rudolf wasn’t a bad business partner. As usual, he surprised Sophia with his competence. The king of the fae had a very savvy business mind. In less time than she would have expected, they knocked out a business plan for their new company that they were calling Heals Pills. One of the next steps was to put the elixir in gel caps so they were easier to pop on the go.

  Of course, for everything remarkably intelligent that Rudolf said, he’d follow it up with something about how magicians wouldn’t die out now since they’d find each other attractive enough after taking Heals Pills to breed.

  Sophia was aware that one of the potential benefits was increased beauty, but her motive was to offer an option for ailments that couldn’t be easily healed through other means. Heals Pills would be huge, and help tons of magical creatures.

  The pair probably would have knocked out a lot more, but Sophia got a message from Papa Creola. It read, “If you don’t wa
nt a mark on your soul anymore, then stop by the Fantastical Armory.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at his phrasing. Like she was going to say, “Well, I like not being able to sleep and having this brooding sense of doom in my spirit. Think I’ll keep it.”

  After getting the message, she bolted out of the Crying Cat Bakery as fast as she could and sprinted all the way to the Fantastical Armory. When she entered the weapons shop, she found Subner unsurprisingly blowing smoke rings from a hookah sitting on the floor next to him.

  “So you’re getting high too.” Sophia looked at the stringy-haired elf. “Same thing is happening at the Crying Cat Bakery down the way.”

  “Like a true Nature’s child, we were born, born to be wild.” Subner repeated the words of Steppenwolf.

  “Not me,” Sophia argued. “I was born to deal with weirdos, apparently.”

  “You’re either on the bus or off the bus,” he replied, this time in Ken Kesey’s words.

  “Anyway,” Sophia drew out the word. “Papa Creola messaged me. Where is he?”

  Subner took another hit off the hookah. “Always trust those searching for The Truth, never those who have found it.”

  “Cool, so you’re going to be zero help. I’ve got a club you can join. It’s getting very full.”

  “As Carl Jung said, ‘Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics,’” Subner imparted.

  Thankfully, Papa Creola entered from the back door a moment later, carrying a small metal box that appeared very heavy based on the strained expression on his face. He set it down with a loud thud.

  He didn’t appear to notice Sophia standing there with an irritated expression on her face.

  “I’m here,” she said when he bent down to eye the box from a different angle.

  “Ram Dass said, ‘Be here now,’” Subner advised in an airy voice.

  Sophia tapped her foot. “Papa Creola, you messaged me.”