by Tegan Maher
If she was the culprit, she wouldn't have slipped by Margo yet.
"You go talk to her," I said. "I'll deal with Julius's family."
Being the brave—or smart—man that he was, it took him less than five seconds to disappear. As the selkies approached, I couldn't say I blamed him. They did not look happy.
Angie, Julius's wife, was leading the group, holding her husband's hand as the group stomped toward us.
I glanced at Stephanie, who was rigid and looked ready to do battle.
You need to call to the loving side of her, Tempe thought to me.
The loving side? I had no idea valkyries had a loving side.
Valkyries love heroes; brave and honorable people,” she thought. They also recognize a hierarchy, as they're royalty themselves.
I stepped between them as soon as Julius and crew made it to us. "Stephanie, I don't think you've met Julius yet. He's the new leader of his pod, voted so because of his honor and valor. This is his wife, Angie. She leads by his side."
The warrior princess took their measure, then relaxed her stance. I was gonna have to convince her to come around more often. Girlfriend obviously needed some external influences to help her chill if she didn't want to burn out. I had a feeling an off-her-rocker valkyrie would be a bad thing for all involved.
She dipped her head and looked skyward. It wasn't until I looked up that I noticed a glistening black horse in full armor plunging down at us, fire shooting from his nostrils. His eyes glowed red as he settled beside Stephanie, snorting and pawing the flagstones.
She patted him on his neck. "It's okay, Buttercup. I seem to have misread the situation."
"Buttercup?" I mouthed to Bob, who raised his brows and shrugged. He was as out of his element as I was.
Stephanie stepped forward and introduced herself to Julius and Angie, then offered her services.
Angie, an olive-skinned woman with flowing black hair, seemed to have a better grasp on her emotions than Julius did. She'd always been the take-charge type. Her eyes roamed over me, Bob, and Tempest as she wrung the water out of her hair and twisted it into a knot on top of her head. "Where's the new manager? Off finding my husband's pelt, or passed out in his office?"
I pulled in a deep breath and huffed it out as I led the group toward the bar. It was hot, and standing in the brutal sun wasn't doing anything to improve moods.
Our silence was all the answer Angie needed regarding Cassiel. She rolled her eyes. "Why on earth they put a drunken angel with a crappy attitude in charge of a bar where people come to relax and have fun is beyond me. I'm glad they at least had the good sense to pick a competent waitress and bartender, anyway."
Blake popped back into the shade of the bar holding a struggling Circe Blackwood by the upper arm.
Angie took a step forward, murder in her eyes. "Thank you, Blake. I'll take it from here."
Out of all of us, it was Stephanie who stepped forward to be the voice of reason. "We cannot judge her until we get the truth from her."
She reached out and grabbed the now-terrified witch by the forehead and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Circe's eyes glazed over.
When Stephanie released her, the entitled woman appeared dazed and unfocused for a few seconds before righteous outrage took over. Buttercup took a step toward her at the same time Angie did, and she snapped her mouth shut.
Stephanie shook her head. "It's not her. She's petty, selfish, and a horrible person who will receive a harsh judgment when her time comes, but she doesn't possess the wits to steal the pelt."
Circe gaped at her. "Did you just call me dumb?"
The valkyrie lifted a shoulder. "I wouldn't call you the brightest star in the sky by any means." She turned to Blake. "You can release her."
"But if it wasn't her, then who was it?" Angie asked.
Bob, who'd been quiet, spoke up. "Maybe it's time to take a look at that brother-in-law of yours. Power is a great motivator."
Angie glanced back and forth between Bob and Julius. "What's he talking about, Jules?"
Julius sighed. "I didn't want to mention it, because I don't believe it was him, but Aron stopped by. He's understandably angry because he wasn't chosen as successor."
"Julius!" Angie said, drawing her brows together. "Why didn't you mention this before? Out of everybody, he had the most reason to want to banish you from the sea!"
He hung his head. “I don't want to believe it of him. He's family."
Their family must have had way different dynamics than mine did. I had a couple cousins I was downright ashamed of. One of them boosted my grandpa's pickup in order to steal all the pink flamingos from her neighbor's yard, because she hated both the birds and the neighbor. Another had moseyed drunk into her ex's wedding reception at the local all-you-can-eat buffet and knocked the cake over.
Another benefit of working eight-hundred miles away from your hometown, at least as far as I was concerned.
Circe had used the diversion to slink away from the bar, but Angie grabbed her before she could escape. She gave her a good shake. "If you ever come near my husband again, I'll throw you in the sea and call upon the sharks."
The witch's eyes darted to me for protection, presumably because I was a fellow witch. I just lifted a shoulder. "Told you so. If you ask me, you're lucky she's giving you a pass this time."
Angie gave her another good shake, then shoved her toward to path that led to the hotel. "Don't let me see you again."
My selkie friend had put the fear of the gods into the she-devil, because she beat feet around the corner and was gone before you could say sleazy tramp.
Tempest spoke up. "I can tell you it wasn't your kin. I watched him leave, and the pelt was still hanging on the chair when he did."
Well that was just great. Now we had no suspects and no pelt. Julius was going to be land-locked unless the tides changed, and fast.
CHAPTER SIX
"What else have you done to find the pelt?" Angie demanded of Blake.
Bob had retreated behind the bar to make everybody a drink. He seemed to be of the mind that a little bit of booze may take the edge off, but again, being raised in the South where drinking was an art form, I was afraid it was throwing gas on a fire.
Still, Angie took a sip of her anchovy martini—I still shuddered every time I saw the fish floating in the glass—as she waited for Blake to answer.
"I've locked down the hotel and have ordered a room-by-room search. If the pelt is in the hotel, we'll find it."
"And if it isn't?" she asked.
Blake looked at her, and I felt bad when I saw the utter helplessness that crossed his face. He took a deep breath and released it. "All I can say is I'm doing the best I can."
Sunlight flashed off something by the beach, and a sapphire tail flipped out of the water. Kadi and Beth, two of the mermaids who had been in the pool, swam until they were within a few feet of the beach, then turned around and transformed their tails into legs.
Striding up the beach, I couldn't help but wonder why all sea creatures—and most paranormals in general—seemed to be blessed with extraordinary good looks, while witches just had to deal with whatever genetics we had.
They pulled their long hair over their shoulders and wrung the water out as they approached us. Once they reached the bar, I made the introductions.
"It's nice to meet you," Kadi said to Julius, Angie, and the other selkies. "I wish it were under more pleasant circumstances."
"Where did you guys go?" I asked. I knew they couldn't have gone far, because I'd cast the water barriers myself.
"We thought maybe it was a good idea to talk to her dad," Beth said. "As the king of the Gulf of Mexico merpeople, he has some far-reaching connections."
I glanced at Kadi, or rather Princess Kadi, I supposed. "Any luck?"
Regret crossed her face and she shook her head as Bob handed her a Bahama Mama. I glanced at him, and he reminded me of the bartender version of my mother. When all else fails, offer refres
hment. I almost giggled at the thought.
"Thanks," she said as she took a sip.
Beth took hers, and looked toward Kadi. "I'll get our stuff. We were in such a rush, we left everything behind."
We sat silent, each of us wracking our brains for another avenue to explore, when Beth returned, scowling. "Destiny, somebody stole our towels. Our bags are still there, but that beach towel was a gift from my niece."
I paused with my lime water halfway to my mouth and a lightbulb came on. I knew where his skin was, or at least I had another place to look
. I set my water down on the bar. "I'll be right back."
Without giving anybody time to ask where I was going, I snapped my fingers and landed in front of Margo, my feet moving practically before I fully materialized. Nobody but Blake could teleport beyond the sphinx.
"What's the rush, sweetie?" she called after me.
"I think I know where Julius's pelt is," I tossed over my shoulder.
I ran through the hotel to the service elevators, and pushed the down button. The doors slid open, and I rushed toward the laundry room. A brownie named Lucinda was in there, pulling wet towels from a washer and stuffing them into an industrial-sized dryer.
"Hey, Lucy," I said. "Did a cart of towels just come up from the tiki?"
"Sure," she said, pointing to a red wheelbarrow. "That's it right there."
I dug through the cart, hoping against hope that I was right. Sure enough, at the very bottom lay a black pelt with white spots, along with the towels Kadi and Beth had been using. I yanked them out, groaning at the weight of the pelt as I slung it over my shoulder.
Glancing around at the mess I'd made while I was yanking the towels out, I cringed and apologized.
"Come down to the tiki later and I'll buy you a drink." I said as I made a mad dash back toward the elevators.
"You found it!" Margo said, delighted, as I rushed past her.
"I did," I said, grinning as I snapped my fingers.
I popped back into the tiki still wearing my grin, and handed a slack-jawed Julius his skin. I also passed Beth and Kadi their towels.
"Where was it?" Blake asked, his brow creased.
"In the laundry,” I said, smiling. “One of the new beach attendants must have mistaken it for a towel, though I have no idea how with as much as it weighs."
We had attendants that went through at intervals collecting towels, linens, and other washable hotel property. It appeared they needed a little more training.
Angie pulled me into a hug, and it wasn't until I saw the tears in her eyes that I realized how truly terrified she'd been. I hugged her back, happy that we'd found it.
Julius called for rounds of drinks, and of course, that's when Cassiel appeared. He couldn't be bothered to help during a crisis, but when free booze was on the table, he was all in. Too bad Angie was the one with the credit card, because she wasn't as forgiving as Julius.
Rather than offering him a drink, she gave him a suggestion that was anatomically impossible, even for an angel. I was sure I'd pay for my minute in the spotlight later, but that was okay with me; I had broad shoulders and was just glad I could help.
Julius raised his glass. "To Destiny," he said, then paused and glanced at Angie, who nodded her head. "I bestow upon you honorary membership into our pod. Should you ever find yourself in need, we are at your service."
He gave a little bow, and my eyes filled as I hugged both of them.
"Thank you for saving my husband and keeping our family together," Angie whispered in my ear.
I swiped a tear off my cheek and grinned, my heart full as I looked around at the people who'd become like family to me. The sea breeze tickled across my cheek and the scent of the sea filled my nostrils as the sunshine kissed my face.
The Enchanted Coast truly was my paradise.
<<<<>>>>
The Deadly Daiquiri Preview
CHAPTER ONE
"STAN, WHAT HAVE I TOLD you about bringing the Cupid's bow into the bar? And adjust your diaper. None of us want to see what's under that."
I heaved a sigh of exasperation. I loved my job, but sometimes I felt more like a babysitter at a daycare center than a cocktail waitress at a magical beach resort.
He scowled as he reached for his margarita. "It's a loincloth. And what do you want me to do—leave my bow and arrows in my room? They won't fit in the safe."
Cyri, the faerie sitting one table over, turned to look at him. "That's easy enough to fix," she said, adjusting her lavender ponytail. She dipped her finger into a waterproof pouch hanging from the pink lanyard around her neck, then sprinkled a small pinch of sparkling dust over the bow and quiver.
Stan watched in fascinated horror as the tool of his trade shrunk to a tenth of its size. "You can't just do that," he said, indignant. "What if I get called out to a job?"
She snorted. "That's like your fourth margarita. You're in no condition to fly, anyway. And I've only been with Aiden a few months. It would be a disaster if he accidentally knicked himself with one of those arrows on his way to the bathroom. I'm not ready for the whole L-word scenario."
I smiled as I walked away. Stan was in the middle of an existential crisis. His problem was that he was a romantic at heart, and his job wasn't just a job to him—it was his passion. Between the free-love movement and easy, DIY divorces, he was having a hard time believing he hadn't outlived his purpose.
So, he was on an extended vacation to find himself and decide whether or not he should retire. But just because I felt sorry for the guy didn't mean I could give him a pass on the bow. Can you imagine how the I love you, man phase of intoxication would work if a hammered cupid wanted to make the whole bar happy at closing time? Yeah, no love-laced arrows allowed.
I delivered the last drinks on my tray to a group of sunbathing selkies that were regulars, thinking how hot their seal-skin beach blankets must be. Before you get upset about animal cruelty, selkies are seals in the water but shed their skins to become human on land. The skins they were lying on were their own.
I couldn't blame them for keeping them secure though. Julius, their leader, had left his skin unattended at the bar when he'd gone to the bathroom a while back, and we’d had to lock down the whole resort for a couple of hours.
A beach attendant had mistakenly picked it up and thrown it into the laundry, and since I'd been the one to call for the lock-down and the one to find it, he'd granted me honorary membership in his pod. In short, when they came every few months, they requested me, and they always tipped generously. It was job security, but it made me feel good, too.
Angie, Julius's wife, passed the martinis down the row, taking a sip from the last one.
"Divine as always," she said, licking the vodka mustache off her upper lip. "Tell Bob he used just the right amount of anchovy juice."
I bit back a shudder at the phantom flavor and assured her I would. As I picked my way through the tables back to the shade of the tiki bar, I picked up a few more drink orders along the way.
Plunking my tray down on the server's deck at the bar, I leaned over and rested my chin in my hand while I waited for Bob, the Bigfoot bartender, to finish telling a joke to a broody werewolf. I don't know why he bothered—the guy hadn't cracked a smile the whole week he'd been there. He'd eaten his weight in steak and was a fat tipper, though, so I guess Bob felt obligated.
The big lug tended to be a people-pleaser anyway, so the more somebody rejected his efforts, the harder he tried. That alone kinda made me want to crack the shifter with my tray for being such a buzzkill.
I shifted over a couple of feet and adjusted a fan so that it was blowing in my face. The heat was brutal, and there hadn't been a mermaid or water nymph around all day. I liked it when they came because it gave me an excuse to wade out to the water bar to wait on them—a definite plus when the thermometer pushed past ninety.
We also had a huge salt-chlorinated, zero-entry infinity pool that had a direct-connect to the ocean, so it was a
vailable to everybody. Unfortunately, it was closed for cleaning; a group of unicorns had their son's birthday party there the day before and ... kids were kids. So, no wading around the edges to deliver drinks. The fan would have to do.
Bob lumbered over to pick up my drink ticket. "Man, that guy's tough," he whispered. "I'm throwin' my best material at him, and nothin’. I can't get him to look away from that laptop.”
I tilted my head and examined the guy in question as he stared at the screen like it held the secrets to the universe. Good looking, as most werewolves were, but he lacked the lightheartedness that marked most of his kind.
"What's his deal, anyway?”
"No idea," Bob said, muddling mint and simple syrup for a mojito. "He's met with Cass a couple times, but that's it. And every time he has, his mood's seemed worse."
That wasn't an atypical response to dealing with our boss though, so it didn't add anything to the speculation. It would have been more unusual had he come away smiling.
Speaking of ...
"Maganti!" Somebody bellowed my last name from behind me.
Before turning, I pulled a deep breath in through my nose and blew it out through my mouth, counting to five as I did.
My boss, Cassiel—otherwise known as the disgraced Angel of Temperance—was a blow-hard and an idiot. I wasn't sure who'd assigned him to be the figurehead of that particular virtue, but apparently, they hadn't been practicing it themselves when they'd made the call.
It had taken a few millennia, but he'd finally pushed his luck one too many times with the powers that be and was tossed out on his ear, much to the chagrin of everybody in the mortal realm, or at least those of us who lived on the Enchanted Coast. Managing the beach bar was his booby prize, and he lorded over it like the planet owed him a living.
As usual, he was already half in the bag, which meant he was gonna be even more horrid than he was when sober. He was the only downside to this job. Well, him and sand in awkward places, but the latter was an easy fix.