The Lady in Pink - Deadly Ever After 2 (8 page)

“I
sabella,” Clayton called, holding his fleshy arms wide. “You look absolutely amazing.”

Izzy smiled at the much shorter man, leaning down so he could kiss her cheeks. His lips made smacking noises when he touched her skin. “You look quite handsome too.” She ran a hand down his tiny bright-lime-colored tuxedo, which I had to admit didn’t look nearly as dumb as it should have on a two-foot-tall guy. That probably had something to do with the vibrant color of his wings. I tilted my head, studying the vivid hue.

Clayton had dyed his wings.

I shook my head, embarrassed for him as well as all of fairykind. Fucking fairy politics at work. To become the next Tooth Fairy, Clayton had made many sacrifices, from dying his wings to kissing up to Big Mouthwash. The whole process was out of hand. But Izzy insisted when she’d first stepped down as the Tooth Fairy that the fairies embrace a completely democratic election. No more would the toothy torch/curse be appointed by the council. And then thanks to the ruling on Fairies United, money and big business now ruled all aspects of the Tooth Fairy game.

“Emerson is here. He’s offered a significant contribution.” Clayton’s greedy gaze grew even greedier as his wings flapped with excitement. “I told Richard that you’d stop by his table. He has a check, but he will only give it to you. Then you must meet—”

I grabbed Clayton by the throat, cutting him off with a small squeak. “Izzy is here as a guest. Not for show-and-tell. She’s done enough for you already.”

“Blue,” she said, slapping at my hand on the now chartreuse-colored candidate. “Stop it.” I released him but didn’t like it one bit. Yet Izzy was far from finished berating me. “I offered to fund-raise for the campaign. You know that. Clayton will make a fine Tooth Fairy.”

The winged imp straightened to his full height, which wasn’t that impressive, as Izzy spoke. “Thank you, Isabella. I will make you proud.” He then turned to me, wagging his finger in my face. “And you—the day I’m elected Tooth Fairy, you better watch your bicuspids.”

I grinned at his puny threat.

“Behave,” Izzy said. “Both of you.”

Clayton nodded, kissed her hand, and moved off to butter up another poor winged soul who’d wake up tomorrow regretting giving Clayton his hard-earned dough. Izzy turned to me, a smile hovering on her lips. “Try to be nice. Just for tonight.”

I laughed loud enough to draw the attention of everyone within a ten-foot radius. “I was being nice. I let him go before he passed out.”

She rolled her eyes, lowering her voice to a whisper. “There are a lot of important people here. People it would be good for us to get to know better.”

“Is that so?”

“People with money.”

Thanks to our partnership, we now had plenty of income. So what was Izzy’s point? I waited for her to continue.

“And secrets,” she whispered. “Ones they will pay to keep.”

The corner of my lip lifted. “Are you thinking of a little blackmail?”

She laughed. “Of course not. I’m thinking about our company and its future.” She paused, her eyes locked on mine. “Our future.”

Before I could press her for more information, a crowd of eager groupies surrounded us. My hand hovered on Izzy’s lower back, feeling the heat of her skin through the leather of my gloves, just in case her fan club turned ugly—or uglier than they already were. No matter what the fashion experts said, plunging necklines and cake-thick makeup were not a fairy’s friends. The whole lot of them looked like rejects from a seventies movie.

While Izzy charmed the young and old fairies alike, I watched the crowd. Not hard to do when I towered over most of it by a good three feet. But I wasn’t the only nonwinged species in attendance. The New Never City mayor stood with his entourage in the northwest corner, pressing the flesh like a good slimy politician. My skin crawled just looking at them. Representatives from all the unions were also present, including the newest boss of the Villainous Union. A guy I’d been hearing a lot about over the last month. A guy I vowed to stay far away from. A few celebrities with pinprick pupils and arm candy rounded out the group. Laughter filled the ballroom, mixed with pleas for campaign contributions and vile promises, like any good party.

Everyone seemed to be having a great time, their faces washed in the glow of expensive alcohol and finger foods. Everyone with the exception of the guy standing a few feet away, watching Izzy’s every move, a murderous expression on his grumpy face.

I
glanced from Grumpy, the head of the Fairy Council, to Izzy and back again, weighing the anger burning in his eyes against the possibility that he would attack. The odds weren’t in our favor. Even as I wanted nothing more than to snatch him up and toss his ass out of the gala, leaving Izzy alone for even a minute was against my better judgment. Grumpy wasn’t her only enemy. In fact, he was one of six that I knew about, all members of the Fairy Council, who’d nearly lost everything when Izzy had insisted on a new democracy.

My eyes scanned the rest of the crowd for the other council members, not seeing any of them at the moment, but fairies and dwarfs, which were what the council was made up of, all looked alike to me.

Minus the wingspan.

I did, however, spot a familiar face in the crowd and let out a sigh. I supposed it could’ve been worse. I waved at Clark Boyer III, the newest member of team Reynolds, motioning him over. With a dip of his head he acknowledged my wild gesturing. Then he shook hands with each of the well-dressed politicians and celebrities surrounding him and headed our way. Every few feet someone would stop him. He would smile at them, showing off a full set of even, white, and expensive teeth as he listened intently to whatever crap they were saying, before he’d move on. Clark seemed to own the room, as if he’d been born into this world of power, wealth, and privilege. The Boyer name was synonymous with fancy parties and ass-kissing.

Much to my dismay it took Clark a full five minutes to make it to where Izzy and I stood. By that time Grumpy had disappeared.

“Reynolds, good to see—” he began.

“Watch her,” I said, pushing Izzy his way. I didn’t bother to glance back, my focus completely centered on finding and eliminating whatever malicious intent Grumpy and the other dwarfs might possess. I had a bad feeling about this—so bad, in fact, electrical current rose within me like a gathering storm.

I headed out of the ballroom, my gaze bouncing quickly back and forth. As I plunged through the thick crowd, not a single soul tried to stop me. I guess the winged set had learned a thing or two about getting in Blue Reynolds’s way. Of course, I’d also learned a few things about large groups of fairies.

The little fiends liked to bite.

My knees still bore tooth marks from last year’s mêlée.

After about twenty minutes of searching, I finally spotted the grumpy dwarf sitting in the hotel bar, away from the chaos of the crowds. A half-empty drink sat in front of him. My every instinct screamed trap, but I headed toward him without hesitation. These guys would not harm one red hair on Izzy’s head, let alone ruin tonight for her. I would make sure of it.

“Have a seat, Blue Boy.” Grumpy’s stumpy leg kicked out the barstool next to him. I did as he asked, settling in and ordering a club soda with lime, a thirst-quenching but, more important, electrically conductive drink. If it came down to it, I would toss the drink on Grumpy and then apply a few thousand volts, ruining his day at the very least.

When the bartender set my drink down, Grumpy’s lips lifted into a humorless smile. “We should’ve finished the job we started.”

“And what job was that?” I asked, even though I knew he was referring to last year, when they’d tried desperately to have me killed. Good thing neither of us held a grudge.

He snorted. “That bitch ruined everything.”

I pulled off one of my gloves in warning. “You were saying?”

His eyes shot from my bare fingers to my face and back again. “This democracy thing is a big mistake. Fairies aren’t smart enough to elect the right Tooth Fairy. They will vote for whoever makes the most promises, and then what? We end up with a dirtbag like Clayton holding all the dentin. Fairyland can’t survive with a fairy like him at the helm.”

I shrugged. He did have a point. If I relied on a daily dose of dentin, Clayton’s greed would give me pause too. He wasn’t the altruistic type. And that was being generous. On the other hand, Izzy was definitely right about the need for change in fairy politics. The fairies would never truly be free until they made their own decisions, good or bad. I wanted to say as much, but Grumpy was already moving on.

“Isabella is responsible for what comes next,” he said, slamming his highball glass on the bar. Brown liquor splashed up, running over the lacquered wood. Like a pro, the bartender mopped up the spill without interrupting us.

I grabbed the glass from Grumpy’s hand, downing what was left of the forty-year-old scotch in a single gulp. When the burn of the alcohol curled through my bloodstream, I said, “Izzy only has the fairies’ best interest at heart. She wants to help—”

“Ha!” He slapped the bar, rattling my glass as well as the nerves of the overworked bartender. “You know nothing. Your precious Isabella wants to destroy us, to take revenge for the slight she felt after her father Arnold’s death.” He stopped, his eyes searching my face. “She will destroy you too, and soon. From what I understand the wheels are already in motion.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How much do you know about your new employee?” Grumpy asked with an evil smirk, a grin that suited him well. The bastard just oozed malice. A shiver of electricity sparked inside me at his warning. Izzy wasn’t out to get me. At least I thought she wasn’t. Then again, last year I’d thought the same thing and had nearly died because of it.

Not liking where this conversation or my mind was going, I growled, “Get to the point.”

“Boyer & Davis,” he said with relish, “has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” No fucking way. After all we built together, Izzy wasn’t going to suddenly toss me out. My expression must’ve betrayed my thoughts, because Grumpy’s smile widened. “A guy like you must be careful around electricity.”

Now I knew Grumpy was full of shit. Izzy had nothing to do with either James’s murder or my attempted one as he was implying. I didn’t know who exactly wanted me dead quite yet, but the list of suspects, though fairly long, didn’t include anyone with pink wings. I started to say as much, but the geezer cut me off. “Mark my words.”

With those dire words in the air between us, he motioned for another drink. I let out a sigh of relief. Grumpy was an angry drunkard and nothing more. The Fairy Council hadn’t sent him here to hurt Izzy, at least not physically. As for his warning about Izzy and Clark, it was complete bollocks. I hopped off the stool, giving Grumpy a pat on the shoulder with my gloved hand. “Enjoy the party,” I said, unable to help myself.

He snorted. “Thank you, I will.” He paused, his watery eyes blazing. “And you be sure to give James my best when you see him again.”

J
ames’s charred corpse flickered through my vision and my stomach clenched, sending a wave of alcohol-infused bile up the back of my throat. Had Grumpy just threatened me? Again? Trying to control my own anger before I did something rash, like electrocute the head of the Fairy Council in front of a couple of hundred witnesses including the chief of the New Never City Police, I walked slowly away from the bitter council member. I could feel his evil stare on my back.

Maybe Grumpy wasn’t as harmless as I’d thought.

“He’s a very dangerous dwarf,” Right said.

I gave a small jump when he spoke, unaware that he and his bookend partner had been following me. “Damn it. I could’ve fried you. Next time give me a little warning.”

One of his eyebrows rose. “We’ve been ten steps behind you all night.”

In my defense, I’d been a wee bit distracted by the curves of Izzy’s dress and my own growing sense of impending doom. “Well, knock it off. Izzy’s the one in danger tonight. If anything happens to her, I’m kicking both your asses.” And with that warning, I headed back to the ballroom where Clayton held court. I watched as he made the rounds, shaking hands and smiling with all thirty-four of his teeth (he’d had two implanted right after the primaries). “Give the fairies what they want” was his motto.

Which made me wonder, was one of those things me roasting on a spit? After all, the fairies would’ve liked nothing more than to see me dead. Had Clayton gone as far as attempting my murder to win the election? I shook my head at the thought, feeling more and more like the famed, paranoid recluse Humpty Hughes without the germ phobia or the bankroll.

A husky, drawn-out laugh caught my attention. I turned to the delightful sound, feeling instantly better. Izzy stood surrounded by winged and nonwinged dignitaries, a smile on her lips. She let out another chuckle at something Clark said. In a flash, whatever pleasure I’d felt from Izzy’s laughter withered. Apparently, on top of being a social media guru, Clark was a fucking comedian to boot.

My lips curved into a deep frown all but guaranteed to leave me looking worse than Grumpy in ten years. A small hand pulled on the sleeve of my jacket. I glared down at the offending limb, then remembered my promise to Izzy to try to be nice. I turned my frown halfway upside down, the best I could do at the moment, leaving my lips a flat line.

“Blue,” Peyton said, pulling at my sleeve again, this time with much greater force.

“What?” I snapped.

He dropped my sleeve, stepping back. “I’m . . . ah . . . glad you’re here.”

At least someone was.

Personally I would rather be at a dark bar drowning in a barrel of aged whiskey. My gaze again fell upon Izzy. This time Clark had his hand wrapped around her like Velcro. Make that two barrels. My frown returned. Peyton must’ve sensed my displeasure, for he looked around until his eyes lit on Izzy and Clark. “They make a cute couple.” He beamed with pride and pleasure. “Don’t you think?”

“What the fuck do you want, Peyton?”

His head moved back and forth as he made tsking sounds. “No need to be like that. Clark’s a good man. The Boyers are old money. Very old. Very rich. So no need to worry that he’s some gold digger trying to get his hooks into Isabella. You can relax.”

“Excuse me?”

“We know how you feel. But you don’t need to be so protective of Izzy anymore.” He nodded to the pink wings in question. “Clark can take care of her, and you can get on with your life.” His grin grew as Clark leaned down to whisper in her ear.

I bit my tongue, drawing blood.

“Clayton and I knew they’d hit it off the moment we met Clark.”

And why not? Clark didn’t have electrical issues. He was rich and good-looking, the perfect fucking catch for Izzy. Except I had my doubts Izzy was looking to be caught in anyone’s net. She was much more likely to be the one setting a trap. I just hoped it wasn’t the one Grumpy had insinuated.

Peyton was saying, “I’d be surprised if Izzy isn’t married and pregnant by this time next year.”

My blood pressure rose at the thought of Clark’s baby in Izzy’s wings. Electricity crackled inside me, escaping from my ungloved hand. Peyton yelped as he danced from the errant bolt. “Hey—” he complained.

I winced. “Sorry.”

“What’s going on with you?” His eyes narrowed, his head swiveling to the right and then the left as if someone might jump out at any moment. “Is it the case?”

“Case?”

“Our case.” He frowned. “The missing—”

I slapped my hand, the one with the glove, over his mouth. “We’re keeping the case on the DL, remember?”

He nodded and I moved my hand away. “Have you learned anything?”

“I have a few leads.” All of which were crap. I was no closer to solving the missing-fairy case than I was to finding James’s killer or walking on the moon. But I wasn’t about to share my failures with Peyton. For one thing, he’d revel in them. While he wanted me to find out what had happened to the fairies, he sure as hell wouldn’t shed a tear if I failed and/or ended up a broken pile of blue-haired goo. Neither of those options appealed to me. I would solve both cases or die trying, which didn’t appeal very much to me either.

“Maybe Clark can help—” The electrical shock I shot at him this time wasn’t an accident. His eyes rolled like pinwheels for a brief moment as the bolt jolted through him and then returned to their normal state. “Or not,” he finished in a high-pitched squeak. “Now that I think about it, it’s probably best if we keep it to ourselves.”

“You’re probably right.”

A fork dinged against a crystal glass, signaling the stump speeches were about to begin. Shoot me now, I thought, and then Izzy giggled at Clark again. And I thought, Nope, shoot him. Please.