“Izzy, I . . .”
“You’re just like all the rest. Flash a pair of breasts and you turn into a drooling idiot.”
She had a point, I thought. A few seconds later I failed to see her first punch coming. One minute I was standing in front of her, unable to stop my gaze from wandering to her heaving breasts, and the next she’d popped me in the jaw with her tiny fist. I stepped back, more surprised than hurt.
I grabbed her hand as she pulled back to smack me again. Sparks sheared her delicate skin under my grip, but I couldn’t control myself. I chased her out my front door and into the dimly lit corridor.
Her eyes burned with the promise of imminent violence. “I’m warning you, Blue . . .”
I cut her off with a laugh, squeezing her hand even tighter. “Is that so? What are you going to do, Isabella?”
A stabbing pain sliced through my gut as I finished the sentence. I dropped Izzy’s arms, clutching my midsection. The warm rush of blood spurted through my fingers and my vision turned gray at the edges.
I staggered against the wall, trying to keep my balance. But it was hopeless. The pain brought me to my knees as darkness filled my vision. “Run, Izzy,” I ordered.
But she didn’t move. Couldn’t move, in fact.
Damien materialized into a solid form next to her, her arm clasped tightly in his. My blood dripped off the shiny blade in his hand. A blade now pointed at Izzy’s midsection.
“Leave her alone,” I said through bloody lips.
“Can’t do that. Never could.” He grinned, pulling her closer like a long-lost lover. He reached out, stroking her cheek with the back of his blood-soaked hand. She flinched.
I grabbed the wall, trying to stagger to my feet to save the Tooth Fairy. “Izzy . . .”
“Don’t you worry your pretty blue head,” Damien said. “I’ll take good care of Isabella for you.” He leered, smashing the heel of his very expensive boot into the side of my skull.
CHAPTER 49
“Wake up,” a soft, high-pitched voice whispered in my ear, drawing me from the warm softness surrounding me. I wanted nothing more than to snuggle further into unconsciousness, to avoid what was on the other side. I knew what awaited me once my senses returned. Pain. And lots of it. I could feel it hovering on the edges of my psyche. Calling me. Waiting to strike.
“Don’t play games with me. Wake up.” The voice came again. Angry this time. Icy wetness followed. I shot up, blinking. I lay on a hospital bed, a large IV needle jammed into my arm. A nurse stood a few feet away, her hands covered with thick rubber gloves, a scorched handprint on her otherwise unmarred scrubs.
“Oh thank God, he’s awake,” the voice said.
I rubbed my skull, surprised to find it intact by the amount of throbbing inside of it, and then searched the room for the speaker. “Hello?” I called when I failed to find the source.
“Down here,” the speaker said.
I leaned over the hospital bed’s railing, surprised to see an emerald-winged fairy standing next to the bed. He looked vaguely familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn’t place him. “Do I . . .” I squeaked, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Do I know you?”
He crossed his small arms over his chest, puffing it out as he did so. In a flash I recognized him. He was the dude with the Napoleonic complex at Fairy Central, the one who’d insulted Izzy’s father but also had stopped Deafy the Dwarf from locking me in what I assumed was a very small dungeon. “My name is Jonas,” he reminded me. “We . . . met the other day. At Isabella’s coronation.”
As he finished his sentence the white curtain dividing the room flew open and Penelopee rushed inside. Her face was pale, so pale it looked nearly translucent under the harsh hospital lights.
She reached for my hand to pull it to her ample chest. “Blue, I was so worried. But the doctors say you’ll be just fine. They didn’t even have to stich you up. Somehow the wound on your stomach cauterized itself. Isn’t that odd?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “The bump on your temple was much more worrisome, especially when you didn’t wake up. But I knew you’d pull through. No thanks to that horrible woman. She almost got you killed. And for what? I never did like her. Not since I walked into your office—”
“Whoa,” I said, trying to avoid her reach before she ended up in the burn unit. “Slow down. What horrible woman don’t you like?”
A frown puckered her features. “Don’t you remember what happened?”
Nothing came to me. The last thing I remembered was pouring a third soup can of whiskey last night. “I found you in my apartment last night. We had a few drinks . . .” Right after I found Mervin’s magic pea.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes, we did.”
She shook her head again. “Blue, that was three nights ago. You’ve been unconscious for over forty-eight hours. The doctors thought you might never wake up.”
Forty-eight hours? “What the hell happened? Was I in an accident?”
Jonas answered for Penelopee. “You were attacked outside your apartment.”
The barest flicker of memory tickled at the back of my mind. Darkness. Thick blackness. Pain. And pink wings. My head began to throb. “Damien,” I said.
Jonas nodded. “Apparently, Damien has given up on using you to acquire the pea and instead is focusing on Isabella.”
“The pea?” I rubbed my head, confused. My client, Mervin, had hired me to find a pea, not Damien. Damien was a shadowy douche. He’d kidnapped Izzy. I had to help her. I threw back the thin hospital blanket, kicking my legs over the side. The room started to spin and the air grew incredibly hot.
Apparently, Jonas didn’t notice my distress for he flapped his wings, pacing in front of me. I focused on his green wings until the spinning in my head slowed. “We believe Isabella knows how to find the pea, which is why Damien took her rather than killing her outright.”
“Hold on.” I held up a hand. “What’s this about the pea?”
He frowned. “You don’t know?”
“Would I have asked if I did?”
“Not likely,” he said. “How much do you know about the fairies and the Shadows?”
I shrugged, immediately regretting the action when my head began to throb. “The fairies enslaved the Shadows using some kind of magic spell and then, a hundred years ago, the Shadows somehow freed themselves. And you guys have hated each other ever since.”
He snorted. “Typical.”
“What?”
“The Shadows tricked everyone into believing the fairies were the aggressors, the slave masters, but in truth, it was the Shadows who ruled the fairies.” His eyes blazed. “They controlled us with dentin, forcing us to do whatever they wanted.” He gave a shudder. “It was like being a Siamese twin with Satan.”
“How’d you free yourself?”
A small smile grew on his otherwise gruff face. “Isabella Davis was born.”
“Izzy?” She sure as hell didn’t look a hundred years old.
He shook his head. “The first Isabella Davis. Your Isabella’s great-grandmother, the first fairy with the ability to collect teeth, and provide all of Fairyland with enough dentin to survive without the Shadows.”
I snapped my fingers, causing a blue bolt of electricity to shoot to the floor. “The fairy on the door.” His eyes narrowed, as if I’d lost what was left of my mind. “The carved wooden door in Fairy Central, the one where Izzy was elected Tooth Fairy; it has an image of the first Isabella.”
His face relaxed and he smiled. “Yes. She unchained us from the Shadows. The First Fairy War was a long and bloody one for both sides. But in the end we were free.” He paused. “For the most part.”
I tilted my head. “What do you mean?”
He sighed. “During the war, a weapon was created. Well, grown really.”
“The magic pea.” A pea I now had in my possession. A pea that could save Izzy’s life.
“Yes.” He lowered his voice
until I could barely hear him over the squeak of rubber soles and hospital equipment. “The pea was to be used as a last resort to win the war; a nuclear option, if you will. It has the power to enslave an entire race.” He paused, his eyes darting around the room as if checking for shadowy spies. “Isabella, the first one,” he added quickly, “refused to use it. She knew what it was like to be a slave, and the very idea of enslaving anyone else, even a Shadow, disgusted her.”
“She didn’t trust you guys not to use it.” I grinned. “Smart.”
Frowning, he took what would’ve been a menacing step if he was three inches taller, toward me. “That’s not true. Isabella was cautious. After the prophecy foretold of the ultimate betrayal, she feared—and rightly so—that it might fall into the wrong hands one day.” He shot me a pointed look.
I tried not to squirm under his heated glare as I pictured the magic pea tucked inside the wooden box at my apartment. “My hands?”
“You have to understand,” he said, “we will do anything to stop the Shadows from enslaving us again.”
“Anything?”
His gaze locked on mine. “Anything.”
CHAPTER 50
I lay in my hospital bed while a nurse wearing rubber gloves took my vitals. My mind raced with questions as trepidation filled me. Those winged devils didn’t care about the kidnapping or murders of their Tooth Fairies—hell, they had plenty of others on standby—their only concern was keeping the magic pea out of Damien’s hazy hands.
I was Izzy’s only hope.
Which didn’t bode well for either of us at the moment.
“Mr. Reynolds,” the nurse said, “if you don’t calm down, we will have to sedate you.” She stomped her foot down on a smoldering piece of floor tile. “Last thing this hospital needs is another electrical fire.”
I grunted, not paying her much attention.
“. . . the one thirty years ago burned the maternity ward to the ground. . . .”
Thirty years? The same number of years since I was born, at the same hospital. Could it be a coincidence? I reached for the nurse’s arm but stopped in time. “Fire? Do you know when it happened? What the date was?”
Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “How would I know? I was barely out of diapers thirty years ago.” She shoved a thermometer in my open mouth. “Nurse Connors was the only one on duty that night. No one even knows if she’s still alive. Rumor has it that she started the fire, which is why she vanished without a trace a few months later.”
A buzz of excitement rushed through me, sending another bolt of electricity from my fingers to the already scorched ground. “Sorry,” I quickly said. “Won’t happen again. I promise,” I lied, my face the picture of an earnest, blue-haired invalid.
“See that it doesn’t.” She snatched the thermometer from my lips, taking a good portion of skin with it, and then left the room. I watched her go with mixed feelings; not at Nurse Ratchet’s absence but at what possible clues to my identity an electrical fire over thirty years ago, at this very hospital, might hold.
The mysterious origins of Blue Reynolds vanished from my mind when my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID, seeing a number I didn’t recognize, which could’ve been from the concussion. Who knew how many brain cells I’d lost? I answered on the second ring. “Re . . . olds . . .” I choked out, my voice rusty. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Reynolds.”
“Good to hear you’re no worse for wear,” Douchey Damien declared with a girlish giggle. “We—Isabella, really—were worried about you. I, on the other hand, am much more apathetic.”
I gripped the phone, the plastic coating melting beneath my fingers. “If you hurt one feather on her, I’ll rip your heart out.”
He laughed again. “You are not in any shape or position to be making threats, Mr. Reynolds. I will kill your precious fairy if you don’t bring me what I want.”
“The pea.”
“Ah,” he said, “so you do know. Isabella swore you didn’t, but who can trust a fairy?”
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage inside me at the thought of Izzy at his mercy. “If you hurt her, I’ll tear you limb from limb.”
“Temper, temper,” he said. “Bring me the pea tonight, by midnight, and no one gets hurt . . . at least no one you care about.” He ended his threat by hanging up the phone, leaving me listening to dead air.
I glanced at the clock hanging from the white wall. It was a little past ten. I had two hours to come up with a plan that didn’t include destroying the entire fairy race. Not that I cared one way or the other about the winged devils. My only concern was one winged one. A pink-winged one. And Damien knew it. Hell, he was counting on it.
I grabbed the IV in my arm, tugging on it until the needle pulled free and blood started to spurt from the wound. Taking my finger, I generated a pulse of electrical heat, pressing the tip to the hole and cauterizing the wound instantly.
From there it was a relatively easy escape, if one ignored the last fifty feet, where I crawled the entire way down the hospital corridor.
CHAPTER 51
Surprisingly, I made it to my apartment in forty minutes, my head pounding like the Little Drummer Boy on meth. The pain was so intense I couldn’t decide between throwing up or passing out. Lucky for me, but not so much for Gizelle, I picked the first option, tossing my gingerbread cookies all over the hallway in front of her door.
Thankfully, after ridding my body of a half-day’s worth of hospital food, I felt a little better, which was good considering I had less than an hour and twenty minutes to save the Tooth Fairy. The very thought brought another round of bile up my esophagus.
Unlocking my apartment door, I was surprised to find Penelopee inside. She sat on my couch, her clothing freshly pressed and expensive, her long legs crossed at the ankles. “Blue?” She glanced up. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same question.” I staggered into the living room, grabbed the closest bottle of whiskey, and drank deeply until the pain in my head receded even more. When I’d swallowed a third of the bottle, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then motioned around the room. “This is my apartment, right?”
Her mouth tightened with concern. “Of course it is, Blue. Don’t you remember?”
While I’d lost some brain cells to the smack on my head, that wasn’t the reason I’d asked. My query had much more to do with the shiny white walls, the clean, fresh-smelling carpets, and the lack of general dirt and chaos I’d come to call home. The only thing that looked the same was poor fishy Felix, who swam disapproving laps in his now prettily decorated tank.
I didn’t have the time for the “It’s me, not your crazy ass” talk right now. Taking one last look around the freshly cleaned room, I headed to my bedroom for a change of clothes and my not-as-really-big-but-still-big-enough-to-blow-a-hole-in-Damien’s-hazy-ass gun.
I dug through my bedroom drawers for a clean sweatshirt. After all, even a blue-haired guy didn’t want to go storming into the lair of his enemy wearing a hospital gown that opened in the back. Hard to win over the damsel in distress that way.
I spotted a clean shirt and a pair of jeans toward the back of the drawer, pulled them out, and put both on. Then I returned to the living room and froze.
My eyes were unable to comprehend what I was seeing.
Or rather what I wasn’t seeing.
The jewelry box was gone.
And with it went any hope of bringing Izzy home.
CHAPTER 52
“How’s your head?” Penelopee asked from behind me.
I spun around, never so glad to see anyone in my entire life. But only because of what she held in her hands. The wooden jewelry box with the magic pea looked freshly dusted and polished, thanks to the princess with an apparent cleaning fetish. “Good,” I said, reaching out to take the box carefully from her.
She held on to it for a few seconds, her eyes searching my face. For what I didn’t know, but something wa
rned me I’d better let her down easy and quickly before she ended up boiling my goldfish. I vowed to do so as soon as I got back from rescuing Izzy. But first I needed her help.
“Penelopee,” I said, “can you do me a big favor?”
“Name it,” she said with a smile.
And I did. She listened intently, her lips curling with disgust as I outlined my less than brilliant plan to save Izzy.
“Are you sure?” she asked when I finished.
I nodded. “It’s the only way.”
“I don’t like this,” she said, tears filling her eyes.
I shot her a quick grin. “Trust me, Princess; you’re not the only one.” With those final words, I picked up the jewelry box and headed out of my apartment for what would probably be the last time.
CHAPTER 53
At five minutes until midnight I stood outside the Shadows’ fortress, the wooden pea box in my sweaty hands. I took a deep breath and sent a prayer to my maker. The next hour of my life was going to be bloody. I knew it. And honestly, I didn’t care. My only thoughts were of Izzy, of what would happen if my half-assed plan didn’t work. For one thing, the entire fairy race would pay a hefty price.
I guess the prophesy was true after all, I thought as I glared down at the jewelry box. I was about to betray the fairies to save a half-human one.
With one last prayer, I rang the doorbell.
Twenty seconds later the same butler from before opened the door. He looked surprised to see me standing there, if the slight widening of his eyes was any indication. “Sir,” he said, “Mr. Damien is expecting you. If you’ll follow me . . .”
I wiped my feet on the welcome mat a few times, generating more electricity, and did as he asked, following him into the fortress and what very likely would be my death.
He motioned into the library, where a crackling fire filled the fireplace. “May I take your . . .” he nodded to the jewelry box, “. . . box?”
I slowly stepped inside the room, shaking my head. “No thanks. I think I’ll hold on to it for now.”
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