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Authors: J.A. Kazimer

The Fairyland Murders

BOOK: The Fairyland Murders
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Also by J.A. Kazimer
Curses!
A F***ed-Up Fairytale
 
Froggy Style
A F***ed-Up Fairytale
 
 
 
Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.
THE
Fairlyland
MURDERS
A Deadly Ever After Mystery
J.A. KAZIMER
eKENSINGTON BOOKS
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
For Coraline “Special K” Miller.
 
Welcome to the world.
 
May you best every dragon,
kiss all the right princes,
and always remember, the Tooth Fairy pays double for molars.
CHAPTER 1
O
f all the fey PI firms in all the kingdoms in all the lands, these twin hairless fairies had to walk into mine.
Of course I knew why they were here.
“My rent's not due for two days,” I said, propping my feet on top of my worn desk. It groaned under the weight. Not that another forty-eight hours would matter in the scheme of things. I'd still be a few hundred short of meeting my monthly office space rent.
The PI biz wasn't what it used to be.
And it used to be pretty damn bad.
Hell, I only had one case in the last month and I'd yet to see a penny from it. Of course, I hadn't quite solved it either. But I would. Blue Reynolds, PI, always gets the job done. Eventually.
“Blue,” Peyton, the taller of the two fairies, said as he hefted his tiny pants. They rose an inch, showing off a pair of green and white kids' socks. “We ain't here for the rent. We want you to do a job for us.”
I leaned back farther in my chair. “Nope.”
Frowning, Peyton consulted with his twin brother, Clayton, in a hushed whisper. They argued for a second, finally nodding in apparent agreement before facing me again. In unison they shot me equally creepy and earnest smiles.
A lesser man might've found their pixie-shaped faces and wistful plea cute. Not me. I'd dealt with fairies too many times to fall for their adorable act. In general, fairies were winged devils; these two were in particular.
“Please,” they said. “For us?”
Again I shook my head. This time with greater emphasis, so much so that the bones in my neck popped. I tilted my head back and forth, working out the kinks, as the twins regrouped.
“Come on, Blue,” said Clayton, the shorter brother. Shorter was relative since neither he nor his twin stood more than two feet tall. “It'll be a piece of cake.”
“You said that about the last job.” I kicked off my combat boot and wiggled four toes through the hole in my sock. “I still haven't found my toe.”
Peyton winced, but Clayton, true to his demonic nature, giggled. “Guess he didn't go running wee, wee, wee, all the way home like we figured.”
“Funny.” I slipped my boot back on, crossing my arms over my chest. “The answer's no.”
“It was an accident,” Peyton snapped. “The gun slipped.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Come on, Blue. We need you on this.” Clayton paused, as if sucking on a lemon. “You're our only hope.”
“What's the job?” I asked, though I knew better. With these two, whatever the job was, it would be degrading, dangerous, and illegal.
All well within my expertise.
“Find our half-fairy niece.” Clayton began to pace, his tiny legs and wings in motion. “She disappeared a week ago.”
Sounded easy enough, but something nagged at me. “What's her other half?” A thousand half-fairy combinations rushed through my mind. After all, spending the next week searching New Never City for a fire-breathing dragon fairy didn't hold much appeal. Then again, I needed the dough. I was down to my last bottle of whiskey and I'd run out of deodorant a week ago.
Peyton ducked his head. “Human. She's half human—”
“I'm going to pass, but thanks for dropping by . . .” I scratched the indigo stubble on my chin and waited for their final, desperate offer. It wasn't long in coming.
“We'll pay double your standard rate,” Clayton said with a grimace, as if paying, let alone paying double, got his greenish wings in a bunch.
“Triple,” I said. Clayton's pink cheeks grew red, but I wasn't finished just yet. “Plus expenses.”
“That's robbery!” Peyton sputtered, spittle flying from his plump lips. Clayton shushed his brother with a glare. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward as if to intimidate me, a man ten years younger, four feet taller, and at least a hundred and fifty pounds heavier.
I shifted farther back in my chair.
“Fine.” He dug into his miniature pocket. “Will you take a check?”
I could find the little bastards if they stiffed me. Not that I particularly wanted to visit Fairyland. Not without a really big gun. I agreed to take his check, watching his trembling fingers fill it out. “Don't forget medical,” I said when he added the last zero.
A frown creased his brow. “Medical?”
“Yep.” I pointed to my missing toe. “Medical.”
“All right.” He rewrote the check and then tore it from his checkbook. He waved it in my direction, yet he was careful to keep a safe distance between us, lest he suffer from a bad electrical burn. “You do the job,” he said, “and you do it quick. We ain't paying you to slack off.”
I snatched the check from his freakishly small hand with my gloved fingers, counted the zeros, and grinned. “So what's the deal? How do you know your niece is missing as opposed to trying to avoid you?”
Clayton frowned, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. I had a feeling they were about as real as the vivid green of his dyed wings. “We didn't know we had a niece till a year ago, when her dear old daddy, our saintly brother, departed this Earth.” He sniffed, and my eyes narrowed. “And now she's gone.”
“And you want me to find her,” I said, my voice filled with questions and a hint of suspicion. So far the job seemed legal and easy enough; too legal and easy for the amount of dough they were willing to pay.
They both nodded solemnly.
“What's the catch?”
“Catch?” Four innocent eyes shot to mine.
“Either tell me or get lost. I have other jobs to do.” “Jobs” was a bit of an exaggeration. Okay, more than a bit. My calendar was clear except for a missing object case I'd been working for the last three weeks with no luck whatsoever. I wasn't any closer to finding the wayward “magic” pea than I was the day my recluse client, Mervin the Great, had hired me.
Unless I found the pea soon, I'd be spending my nights sleeping under a bridge with the trolls, or worse, in my hard plastic office chair.
At least the trolls smelled slightly better.
The twins glanced at each other, and in some weird sort of telepathy, they held a silent debate. While they discussed whatever fairy secret they held in their tiny pockets, I stood to stretch my legs. My office was small, so small in fact that after only two strides I had crossed it and now stood staring out the grimy window to Fairy-Second Street below.
A princess with bright blond hair, her arms full of curds and whey, glanced up at me. My eyes met hers through the glass. Heat shimmered in the air. My body tightened, growing warmer as I tried to ward off what was to come. The princess gave me a small smile. Electricity swelled within me, sending my blue hair standing on end in direct contrast to my pale skin. The hair on my arms rose, dancing back and forth.
Thunder cracked in the distance.
The princess stepped away, startled. She glanced up into the window at me, at my dancing blue hair, screamed, and ran away.
I shrugged, patting my hair back in place as the electrical current inside me dimmed to a controllable voltage.
“Okay, Blue,” Clayton said. “We'll tell you the whole sordid tale. But you gotta promise you'll keep it to yourself. If anyone else finds out . . .”
“Sure.” As I walked from the window, I crossed my fingers behind my back. Whatever the fairies had to say must be big if they wanted my silence.
“She ain't only our half-fairy, half-human niece.”
I frowned, fearing I wasn't going to like the answer to my next question. “What else is she?”
“She's the next Tooth Fairy.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“And she's been kidnapped.”
BOOK: The Fairyland Murders
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