by Sarah Noffke
“I think he’s scared,” Liv related. “I offered to use magic to help save the shop, and he was adamant that I couldn’t. He said that some things weren’t worth fighting over, and he didn’t want me risking myself to help him.”
“But that’s what friends do for each other,” Sophia protested.
Liv faced her sister, a proud smile on her face. “That’s exactly what friends do for each other. But John is highly protective of me, and he also loathes conflict.”
“So he’s just going to walk away from the shop?”
“Well, he says that it’s the universe telling him to retire in Mexico like he always planned,” Liv said, a stone in her heart. She couldn’t imagine John leaving. He’d talked about it for years, but she had never taken him seriously. And now the day was upon them, forced on John in the most unexpected way.
“You did say he was getting older, and you were worried about his health,” Sophia murmured thoughtfully.
Liv nodded. “Yes, and he does deserve to retire. More than anyone I know. I’ll just miss him painfully.”
“Where will you live?” Sophia asked.
“Yeah, he plans on selling the apartment building.” The melancholy in her voice was palpable. When that lawyer with the shiny suit had entered the shop, he had changed everything for a lot of people. Kicking John out of the store created a ripple effect, one that would displace Liv from the home she’d built for herself. Defeated, she said, “I guess I’ll move in here.”
Sophia didn’t beam as Liv would have expected. Instead, she shook her head. “You won’t like it, and we both know that. Most of the magicians are uptight and cranky, and mealtimes are super-big bore-fest. It’s also hard to have privacy. I’m constantly finding spying spells, which I disable, but that never lasts long.”
“So you don’t want me to move in here?” Liv asked, surprised.
“I do, but more than that, I want what you want, and that’s sort of obvious.” The little magician slid her books onto a table when they came to the end of a row. She’d found more than enough books on the subject she was researching: fae fashion.
Liv regarded her thoughtfully. “You’re pretty much the best person I know. A cut above John, and that’s saying a lot.”
Sophia looked up from the book she’d cracked open and smiled. “Maybe I can meet him before he goes to Mexico.”
Liv nodded solemnly. “Yeah, maybe.”
“And hey, you could always get an apartment somewhere else, couldn’t you?” Sophia asked.
“I could, but it takes time to find a place, as well as credit, which I don’t have,” Liv related with defeat. “John never cared about that kind of thing. And it’s hard to prove income when it comes from a secret magical organization. No, the easiest option is just to move in here, at least for the time being.”
“Well, on the bright side, we can have slumber parties,” Sophia said, lost in thought as she flipped through the book, studying the images.
“So, do you think you can conjure up something from the subscription service that will work?” Liv asked. She’d been working on honing this part of her magic, but she still didn’t have a subscription to the service where magicians got their clothes. Without that, she’d have to manifest the garments from nothing, or from raw materials, which was a lot harder.
Sophia glanced up, a spark in her eyes. “Yeah, I see what your friend meant. The fae like their necklines low and their slits high.”
Liv grimaced. “Rudolf isn’t really my friend. Let’s call him a business associate.”
“What do you think he wants the gemstone for?” Sophia asked, checking over her shoulder that they were alone. She then verified by using a spy-reveal spell.
“Some selfish gain, I’m sure,” Liv related. “The fae mostly care about themselves, it seems.”
“No wonder their kingdom is in Las Vegas,” Sophia stated, flipping through the book again. “They’d freeze anywhere else wearing clothes like these.”
Liv squeezed her eyes closed, scrunching her nose like she was preparing to get a painful shot. “Okay, dress me in something sleazy.”
The warm jacket and pants she’d been wearing disappeared, replaced by cool silk fabric, but not a lot of it. Liv felt a chill run down her arms as she opened her eyes.
“This color is burning my eyes. What is it?” Liv asked, staring at the dress Sophia had put her into. It really didn’t qualify as a dress. More like a worn-out sleeve on one of Rory’s shirts.
It was a halter dress that was entirely too short and too tight, but that wasn’t the worst part. The thin piece of neon-green fabric had holes all over it, exposing her hips, thighs, waist, and back.
Sophia snickered, checking the books she’d been referencing. “It’s called ‘neon ivy.’”
Liv fake-gagged. “I think it should be called ‘puke green,’ since that’s what it makes me want to do.”
“I can try a different color if you’d like,” Sophia suggested. “How about pink?”
Liv lowered her chin and regarded her sister with an impatient stare. “Do I look like a pink kind of girl?”
Sophia giggled, covering her mouth. “Well, I think you look really edgy and cool.”
“I look like I’m going to freeze,” Liv countered.
Sophia agreed with a nod. “You’re right. You need something.” She circled her hand in the air, and around Liv’s neck materialized a silk scarf that provided nearly zero warmth.
“Thanks,” Liv said dryly.
“Oh, and before I forget, I’ve been studying up on makeup and hair. Let me fix that up for you.”
“When do you learn this stuff?” Liv asked, closing her eyes as if Sophia was going to apply eyeshadow by hand.
“YouTube,” the little magician answered simply. “Okay, you’re all done.”
Liv opened her eyes, not feeling any different. However, her hair wasn’t resting on her shoulders anymore, but rather was in a high ponytail, the strands curled and hanging down on one side. “Do I even want to look in the mirror?” The question brought back the memory of looking into the hand mirror in Papa Creola’s shop. She couldn’t shake the image of herself as an old woman.
“I think you look rad,” Sophia gushed, producing a regular hand mirror.
Tentatively Liv held it up, not recognizing her own reflection for a moment—again. “Wow! If this whole magician thing fails, I can just go into prosti—”
“Liv, is that you?” a voice called from behind her.
Liv froze, recognizing Stefan’s voice and wishing she could make a portal and escape. However, portal magic wasn’t allowed in the House of Seven. After giving Sophia a frustrated look, she turned around to face the Warrior.
“Yeah, it’s me,” she said, keeping her eyes low and checking to ensure that her boobs were hidden. Well, mostly hidden.
“What are you wearing?” he asked, his eyes wide as he studied her. Stefan was wearing his usual long traveling cloak and black boots. His dark hair was extra disheveled, and his pale face was splattered with mud in places.
Liv wound her fingers in the silk material around her neck. “It’s a scarf,” she replied.
A laugh burst out of Sophia’s mouth.
Stefan cracked a smile. “Yes, I see that. I was referring to the rest of the…” He raked his finger through the air. “I was mostly referring to whatever it is you’re wearing.”
“It’s my costume for the Kingdom of Fae,” Liv said, finding it hard to talk with the amount of lip gloss covering her mouth. She resisted the urge to wipe it off with the back of her hand.
Stefan nodded at once, scratching the side of his head and staring at the carpet like he had found something of sudden interest there. “Okay, well, that makes sense.”
“Actually, I’m glad I ran into you,” Liv stated, thinking of the book she was looking for. “Do you have a second?”
“Liv, I’ve got to run to a lesson,” Sophia cut in, gathering up the books. “Do you need me for anything?
I mean, am I done helping you pick out clothes?”
The little magician had almost dropped her guard and revealed that she was the one who had manifested Liv’s clothes. They both suspected that Stefan was well aware of the girl’s talent from hints he’d supplied.
“Yeah, no problem, love,” Liv said, giving her sister a side hug, afraid of smearing makeup on her pristine white dress. “Thanks for helping.”
“I’ll get to work on clearing out drawers for you in my room if you want,” Sophia said.
Liv nodded. “Thanks. That’s nice of you.”
She watched the young girl hurry away with her arms full of books.
“You’re moving into the House of Seven, it sounds like?” Stefan asked.
Liv turned, sighing. “Yeah, unfortunately, I have to.”
“’Unfortunately?’” Stefan questioned.
“Yeah, I’m sort of a loner who prefers to live by myself,” Liv explained.
Stefan’s mouth popped open. “What? Not really! I’m shocked.”
“Ha-ha,” Liv said as her eyes searched Stefan, remembering something Hester had let slip. “Hey, did you by any chance get bitten by something?”
The light expression on his face disappeared. For a moment, he looked incapable of speech. Then he pointed at the bandage on her leg, recovering. “I guess I could ask the same thing of you. What got you?”
“What got you?” she countered.
His eyes darted briefly to his arm. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Liv shook her head. “No. I’m not that curious, but nice try.”
“So, you wanted my help on something,” Stefan redirected.
“Yeah,” Liv began, striding forward, finding it hard to walk in the platform shoes Sophia had put her into. She’d been so repulsed by the dress and the makeup that she hadn’t noticed the ridiculous contraptions on her feet. “I’m looking for a book, but the library doesn’t seem to be providing any options.”
Stefan nodded. “Yes, you have to be singularly focused, and if I may be so bold, you might be a little distracted with your wardrobe planning and this relocation business.”
Liv thought about that for a moment. Her mind had been reeling at the thought of John being booted out of his shop as she searched, hence the book she’d found about LA assholes. That author had it spot on the money. Most people in LA were assholes. Well, not John. Or Rory, but she wasn’t going to tell the giant that. It might go to his already overly large head.
“Yes, I think you’re right,” Liv stated. “I might have been a bit distracted. Still, do you know of a book that talks about how Warriors’ blood is most valuable when the person is alive?”
The idea had occurred to Liv when she’d read the ancient language of the founders and it had spoken of councilors’ blood being needed to open the chamber. It was implied to her that the councilor should provide that blood, meaning that someone couldn’t kill them and use it. That idea had first been proposed to Liv by her father, who had related one of his cases to her. He stated that it wasn’t widely known that the magical properties of a royal’s blood changed based on whether they were living or dead. Furthermore, the blood was incredibly useful, since royalty had certain access to things. When Liv recalled this lesson from her father, she wondered why it had taken her so long to realize that Reese had meant that Clark’s blood was part of the riddle. Inside and outside the House it was common for royal blood to open things since they were elite and few.
“I do know a few books like that,” Stefan related. “But first, is this involving one of your secret missions, like how you got that bite on your leg?”
Liv rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How would I have time for secret missions when I’m busy preparing to be murdered by Queen Visa?”
“Valid point, Warrior Beaufont,” Stefan said, bowing slightly. “My apologies. Please follow me.” He spun around and strode down a narrow aisle of books, breezing past all of them before coming to the end of the row. Liv had a hard time keeping up with him, afraid with each step that she was going to trip on her heels.
Stefan slipped a leather-bound book from the shelf and handed it to Liv. She took it, reading the cover aloud. “The Royals.” She looked up at Stefan, adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Does this detail who the original Seven were?”
Stefan’s face scrunched with confusion. “No. It simply explains how the House is set up, and why. The history is a bit abbreviated, in my opinion. I read it many times when we were invited into the Seven.”
Liv’s elation dissipated as fast as it had come on. “Okay, well, thanks. This sounds like it will be helpful.”
“For?” Stefan asked, drawing out the word.
“For saving my life,” she joked.
“Oh, well, then I daresay you owe me big for helping you with this request,” Stefan teased with a roguish smile.
“Totally, and I’ll pay you back by not telling anyone that you have a mysterious bite.”
Stefan winked at her. “Same, Liv Beaufont. Your secret is safe with me.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Hot daaaaamn,” Rudolf hollered with a whistle, looking Liv up and down about three times longer than was necessary.
Liv nearly swung her purse at his face, but she remembered that it held something fragile and refrained. “You sincerely have a death wish, don’t you?”
“I didn’t know you would clean up so well,” he said. “Seriously, if you dressed like this more often, you wouldn’t be such a sour old maid.”
Liv clutched her purse and shook her head. “I’m not an old maid. I’m a Warrior for the House of Seven.”
“Yes, yes, I, as well as everyone in the magical world has heard about that. She’s Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Seven. Blah, blah, big shot material.”
“Would you shut up so that I can focus?” Liv wove between drunk tourists who held giant plastic glasses and gawked at her like she was a showgirl. She sort of wished that Queen Visa would put her out of her misery and kill her on the spot.
“Which casino do the fae own?” Liv asked, looking up and down the sprawling Strip.
Rudolf laughed. “Which one? We own them all. The Kingdom of Fae is the entire Strip, but the Queen’s chamber is there.” He pointed to the Cosmopolitan hotel. It towered beside the Bellagio’s fountains, which were presently quiet, the tourists lining up for the show that would soon begin.
“Okay, so I just have to go to the top floor and request a meeting with Queen Visa?” Liv asked.
Rudolf shook his head. “I have a better idea.” He hooked his arm through hers and nearly dragged her in the direction of the building.
“Am I going to like this idea, or will it involve having a fight with Mother Nature or some other powerful entity?” Liv dared to ask, nearly slipping several times.
“Knowing you, you’re absolutely going to hate this idea, but I guarantee that it will stall your death for a few minutes, at least.”
“I don’t want my death stalled if I have to smell your cologne any longer,” Liv said, holding her nose.
“What? I’m not wearing cologne. That’s a fae’s natural scent,” Rudolf said, offended. “Calvin Klein and all those other designers pay big money for our pheromones.”
“Ewe. I heard that stuff was full of cat piss and whatnot,” Liv commented.
“Speaking of cats,” Rudolf began, “where’s your lynx?”
Liv looked around, never knowing when Plato was there or not. “I guess he hates Vegas as much as me. Must have stayed home for this one.”
“Well, maybe he’ll show up to bail you out again.”
“Honestly, I don’t think there’s any bailing me out this time. I have to rely on your advice and my cunning, which means I’m screwed.”
Rudolf led the way into the Cosmopolitan. Ladies and men stopped, not hiding their reactions as he passed. One woman dropped her giant plastic cup, spilling beer on the ground, her mouth hanging
open like she couldn’t believe such a man existed.
“Do you ever get tired of people gawking at you?” Liv asked, turning around to take in the crowd staring at them.
Rudolf flashed her a toothy grin. “What do you think?” He reached out and touched her chin. “And baby, they are looking at you, too. You’re wearing that dress like a champ.”
“So you want a broken nose. Cool. I’m on it.” She cocked her fist, ready to launch at his pretty face.
Rudolf simply smiled. “Save your angst. We’re going to need it for the bar.”
“Bar? That’s where you’re taking me? It’s too early to drink, and I need my wits about me.”
“It’s never too early to drink. I always think better when I drink,” Rudolf stated, stopping and holding his arm out.
Liv hadn’t seen such a beautiful bar in all her life. The Chandelier was several stories tall, and it dripped with thousands of beads like they were inside an actual chandelier. Couples sat on the posh sofas and at the bar, sipping cocktails and making out.
“Wait, I get that it is Vegas, but those people are going at it,” Liv said, feeling the need to shield her eyes from the public displays of affection happening pretty much everywhere.
“Take a closer look,” Rudolf whispered in her ear.
Liv searched the bar and realized at once what she was seeing. “Those are fae?”
He nodded. “Yes, and the Cosmo is the place they come to hunt most often. The Bellagio is where they perform most often. The Venetian is where they indulge in their drugs of choice. You get the idea. Each of the casinos seeks to meet one of their needs.”
“Why aren’t you including yourself in that?” Liv asked.
Rudolf raised an eyebrow at her. “Haven’t you figured out by now that I’m not like the rest of the fae?”
“How so?” she inquired, unable to take her eyes off a couple as a fae ran his hand up a woman’s leg, kissing her neck.
“I have class.”
A laugh burst out of her mouth.
“Hey, now,” Rudolf fired back, offended. “I do. You won’t find me in here seducing mortals. I don’t even like Vegas. Notice that I’m always in Roya Lane when you’re looking for me?”
