Hair of Gold: Just Right (Urban Fairytales Book 6) (19 page)

BOOK: Hair of Gold: Just Right (Urban Fairytales Book 6)
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Epilogue

We couldn't believe the story of Goldilocks as I finished reading her journal. Gretta was excited and had blurted out that she remembers a time that she was so lost in her Perchta form that she had forgotten herself and wandered Perchta's old lands in confusion, not remembering she was Gretta or how to find herself again.

She remembers the day a man came to her, on a quest for the love of his wife and unborn children and giving Iosif Inanov one of her feathers. The man had kept his word and destroyed the feather after ensuring his family would live. His dedication and love reminded her of the day she sacrificed herself for the human girl, Gretta, so long ago for love.

That reminded her of who she was and thanks to that selfless man, Iosif, Gretta had found herself again.

Raz had a touch of hope in her tone when she quietly said, “Hansel and Gretel may yet live?” Eve had squeezed her hand in reassurance and the shared hopeful looks. I had to smile at them.

It only took a single word from Maireni to put us all into motion, “Parker?”

I was grinning and excited as I held up my cell as I stepped away from the group, saying, “On it Red. Booking passage on a private ship to London.” I looked around at our group as we all shared smiles.

That's how we ended up here in London two weeks later, standing in front of the Black Crypt. Nicole was just hugging her arms to her chest, anxiety on her face. Rose looked shamed and just hugged her saying, “I'm sorry love.” They shared a smile then stood tall.

Rose held out a hand. “I've been meaning to do this since you came back to me, Nicole. So nobody else could get hurt.” The black vines and brambles surrounding the crypt sprang to her chest and tore through her flesh, I winced knowing that is how it feels to her every time, but she just ignores the pain.

When they were all absorbed into her something sickening and black about the size of a golf ball fell to the ground. I swallowed. It was pulsating. Nicole smiled at it and knelt and picked it up. Before our eyes, her ability to negate the poisons and breathe life back into Rose, changed the withered black thing into a healthy red color as it pulsed.

It was a piece of Rose's heart... literally. The two women smiled at it then Rose held her hand out, and a single vine whipped out and took it from Nicole and pulled it back inside of herself.

Then Nikki voiced her fears again. “I know I just wanted to get out of there when I finally awoke and fought my way free from the briars, but there was nobody in the crypt with me. I fear the Scales may have moved her before I was free.”

Daria padded forward, her huge wolf paws silent on the cobblestones, she looked back and gruffed. Red nodded, “You're right, we'll never know until we look.”

We all filed into the crypt, and Rose just froze up with a distressed look on her face. Her girl put her at ease with a kiss on her cheek as she said softly, “It is alright love. I am with you now, so it was a price I would willingly pay again.”

We all looked at the raised stone sarcophagus in the middle of the empty space. Nicole shrugged and said, “Sorry everyone, this is how I remember it upon awakening. As you can see, it is empty.”

Then Ella-Marie said in her French accent, “Non, mon amie. Not exactly empty.” She asked herself, “Ella?”

Then she smirked and teased, “Yeah yeah, wouldn't want you getting your fuckin' hands dirty now would we Marie?”

I said, “Ella, language.” At the same time, Marie did in our heads.

Ella-Marie said to us all in her Cockney accent, “You birds may wish to get back. This is going to be bloody noisy.”

We all moved to the back wall, and I felt my girl drawing the very earth below us into her as she cocked a fist. With a whump of released energy, she struck the granite cover of the sarcophagus with her fist, the cover cracked with the sound of thunder and the two pieces went slamming into the opposite wall with a deafening clatter in the confined space.

We all stepped forward as one to gaze upon the flaxen-haired woman sleeping soundly in the remains of a heavy black cloak. Dear Lord in heaven, we had found Goldilocks!

I reached past Ella and lightly shook the woman's shoulder. She gave a deafening roar that indeed sounded like a raging bear, half out of her mind in a fog of sleep as she sat bolt upright. Lashing a fist out toward me.

With a whump that felt like the world had dropped three feet, Ella-Marie's fist intercepted Katiana's fist. The shockwave of the impact sent us all except Rose, who was anchored with her vines, slamming against the wall.

I blinked in shock when I looked at my girl's cracked crystal fist. My lord, Katiana hit even harder than Red did and Ella was just barely able to stop her blow. I never thought anyone could bring as much strength to bear as my Ella-Marie.

The woman looked at their fists and blinked the rest of the sleep from her eyes. Then she looked around. Ella said with a smirk, “Mornin', Goldilocks.”

She shuffled back in the coffin then studied us in silence for a moment. She asked in a whispering, croaking voice, “How long?”

I squinted an eye and said carefully, “Centuries.”

She sighed and nodded to herself as she flexed her fingers. Her eyes landed on Gretta and then they widened, and she blurted out in a harsh Slavic accent, “Perchta?” There was so much hope and anguish in the question.

Gretta smiled softly at the woman and stepped up to her and reached out a hand. When her hand cupped the woman's cheek, Gretta was in her full Perchta form, cloak of feathers and full antlers gleaming white. She said softly, “I am here child. Let us go free your love now shall we?”

The woman's smile lit up the space as she nodded while silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

I smiled as I looked around to all of the amazing and selfless women around me. I live such a chaotic life, and now my family grows. I wonder what the next chapter of our lives will bring.

We placed a heavy overcoat over her, then helped the woman out of the crypt and watched her orient herself, blinking in shock over how the world had changed. She shook her head and ignored the modern vehicles and the city of steel raising up between the centuries old buildings. She simply started marching toward the walled city of London with its now permanently opened gates, like a woman on a mission.

 

 

The End

Books in the Urban Fairytales series...

Red Hood: The Hunt

Snow: The White Crow

Ella: Cinders and Ash

Rose: Briar's Thorn

Let Down Your Hair

Hair of Gold: Just Right

 

Books in the Techromancy Scrolls series...

Adept

Soras

Masquerade
(Fall 2016)

 

Books in the Drakon series...

Awakening

Dragonfall

 

Books in the Valkyrie Chronicles series...

Return of the Asgard

Bloodlines

Folkvangr

Seventy Two Hours

Titans

 

Books in the Bridge series...

Trolls

Traitor

Unbroken

 

Books I collaborated with in the Bridge ~ Inner City series...

Gargoyles

 

Books in the Fracture series...

Divergence

 

Books in the Paranormals series...

Fleas

 

Books in the London Harmony series...

(All books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Water Gypsy

Feel the Beat

Roctoberfest

Small Fry

Doghouse

Minuette

Squid Hugs

The Pike

Flotilla
(Spring 2016)

 

Books in the Music of the Soul universe...

(All
books are standalone and can be read in any order)

Music of the Soul

A Deafening Whisper

Dating Game

Karaoke Queen

Silent Bob

Five Feet or Less

Broken Song

Syncopated Rhythm

Progeny

Girl Next Door

Lightning Strikes Twice

June

Dead Shot

 

Music of the Soul Shorts...

(All
short stories are standalone and can be read in any order)

Misadventures of Victoria Davenport: Operation Matchmaker

Wallflower

Accidental Date

 

Various Short Stories...

(These short stories span many different genres)

Rift Jumpers: Faster Than Light

Snack Run

Lost in the Woods

 

London Harmony: Flotilla, sample chapter...

Prologue

I had to grin at the woman. That's really all you can do when Paya Doshi is being cute and crossing her arms so resolutely like that. She said with the tone of a mother who expects her children to stop misbehaving, “J-Dub, the two proper answers are 'Yes ma'am' or 'Yes Paya' at this juncture.”

I tried to keep the chuckle out of my voice as I said to her, “Yes Paya.” I envied her gorgeous caramel colored skin that she was blessed with from her Middle Eastern heritage.

It always struck me odd how posh Paya's British accent sounded compared to her best friend, Tabby's. They basically grew up together, yet Tabitha had a harsher accent, bordering on Cockney with that slight overtone of a Russian Slavic accent that snuck into her voice, which she got from being raised by her Ukrainian father.

The woman crinkled her nose at Nessie and me and said, “Grand. We can head off after the stinker is done in there.”

I turned back to my wife who was valiantly fighting off a chuckle at how easily Paya had roped us into having lunch with them after Tabitha finished her recording session. I narrowed my eyes playfully at her, and she did chuckle that time. What? Am I not threatening enough? She'd think differently if I had like an army of mechanical platypus warriors with pikes standing behind me.

With a grin, I turned back to the isolation booth. I closed my eyes to listen to the pure tones and perfect pitch of Tabby Cat's voice as she rocked her new single, ‘Headmistress of My Heart.' There was something about hearing this woman sing that relaxed a part of me that was always so tense. It was the way she could reach for notes that would be vocal torture for anyone else to hit.

She had one of those impossible voices that was a true privilege to listen to. And that she sang such edgy pop and rock, bordering on punk at times with such a polished voice, was the icing on the cake, at least for me. That's why I had to sign the woman to my record label, London Harmony, the moment I laid ears on her.

I exhaled as I opened my eyes to watch her with her hands to the earphones, her copper hair framing her smiling face as she closed her eyes to reach for one of her signature fortissimo notes that held such unwavering power. Then she modulated it down into a pianissimo that was just barely above a whisper, four octaves down and still holding perfect pitch. Her vocal control was astounding to me.

I glanced back at Vanessa, who was just swaying to the music, her fingers tapping out the beat on her hips as she just smiled serenely. Music soothed her and kept her mind from dwelling on her own fears. I hated how afraid she was of her paranoid schizophrenia, even though her meds were stabilizing her so well the past few years.

It broke my heart whenever she would randomly reach out to touch me to make sure I was really there. But music was the one thing that brought her serenity, which just made her ideally suited to be the lead talent scout for our label.

Like she knew my eyes were on her, mesmerized by how she seemed to melt into the music, she opened her eyes and smiled. Reaching out, she placed a hand gently on my distended belly, feeling our child kicking inside me. She got lost in my eyes with wonder on her face.

I sighed happily. I had finally convinced her to have a child with me instead of adopting. She had such a deep-seated fear that if her eggs were inseminated and placed in me that the child would suffer the same mental illness as her.

After countless consultations and research, showing her that the odds were low. And convincing her that she was not her disease, that she was not defined by it, that we would deal with things if our child did show early signs. I had told her, “We got this shit.” Only then did she grudgingly agree.

But the look of amazement, awe, and love on her face the first day she felt our child kicking inside me, just melted her. It was a rare moment to see Nessie overwhelmed by emotion and brought to tears.

I have to smile the way she has been treating me like a fragile porcelain doll the past nine months. And she always lays her hand on my belly and speaks to our child as we lay in bed each night.

When the doctors asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby, she said yes at the same instant I said no. So the little sneak spoke with the doctor on her own and found out. The evil minx knows and gives nothing away to me with her smile.

Now let me tell you one thing, I am so over being pregnant. I want this little symbiote out of me. My feet hurt, my back aches, and there is a serious lack of designer maternity clothing out there. I don't know how mom did this. I have to be sure to do something extra nice for her this coming Mother's Day.

Tabby opened her eyes and kept her hands on the headphones and wiggled her eyebrows at our man at the board, Mickey, as she threatened to take the headphones off. The man snorted and hit the mic button on the console and said to her, “Yes you impatient bird. That was a wrap.”

With a crinkle of her nose at him, she said, “Wanker.” She removed the headphones and hung them unceremoniously on the mic, causing Micky to cringe. She was such a bad girl at times, and it made me happy to see she got along so well with my staff... my extended family. But then again, it was almost impossible not to like Tabby Cat.

She playfully hopped to the door of the isolation booth and stepped out to look at us, saying, “I seem to have grown an audience.” Then she hugged Paya and asked with a grin, “What are you doing here brat?”

Paya shrugged and explained, “I was here picking up London Harmony's matching contributions for the Flotilla Project for the month.”

The copper haired woman who's eyes oddly matched her hair in an amazing way, rolled her eyes and said, “You and your insistence on picking up cheques, you do know there is this interesting invention out there called the Internet, and people can transfer money electronically.”

The Indian-Brit woman waved her off. “Pish. Then I wouldn't get to visit with everyone. Besides, I heard you were in-studio today so I coerced the ladies into coming to lunch with us.”

Then she scowled at Tabby and chastised her, “You look positively starved, when was the last time you ate woman?”

The singer just shook her head as she looked up at the ceiling and complained, “Bloody hell, between you and Teri, I don't know who is worse.” She looked back down with a smile for her friend. “I'm small I don't need to eat much. If it were up to you two, I'd never get out of the kitchen.”

I saw the shadow of concern on Paya's expressive face. I knew she was just remembering when Tabitha Romanov was virtually homeless and living in the floating slums on a barge in the Thames. She was too proud to ask for help, and she sometimes forgot to eat. When we first heard the woman singing, I was shocked at how gaunt she was.

Then Tabby sighed and gave a compassionate look to her friend and changed the subject, “I'll ring up Teri and have her meet us. She needs to surface from the music conservatory anyway.” She paused and looked around. “What are we eating?”

I moaned out my craving with a hopeful look on my face, “Sushi?”

This got a chorus of, “No.” From all around me including the intercom as Zil chimed in. Zilrita seemed to always be aware of everything in the studio and always listening.

Vanessa scolded me, “You know there are some raw fish you can't have while you are pregnant.”

I sighed and said, “Yes mother.”

She shook a finger at me, and I grinned and swung my big belly back and forth innocently as I asked, “Pizza?”

Tabby just beamed at that and said, “Grand, Gertrude's it is.” She called up her wife as I started drooling over the thought of the culinary masterpieces that Gertrude could whip up in her little pizzeria which was hidden in a quaint alley not far from the studio.

Vannie was grinning like a loon as she looped her arm in mine and I waddled toward the elevator; no stairs for me; it was a teasing look, and I whispered, “I'm eating for two you smug wench.”

This just got chuckles as we picked up some stragglers on our way out, in the forms of Jennifer and Zilrita who collected her squid hug tolls from each of us when we exited the elevator.

I felt like Robin Hood with my merry men. Except they were women... and... oh shut up.

BOOK: Hair of Gold: Just Right (Urban Fairytales Book 6)
2.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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