by Sarah Noffke
Chapter Six
The chilly London air wrapped around Liv as she stepped through the portal onto Roya Lane. She pulled her cape tighter, keeping the hood over her head. The last time she was at Government Center, she’d received many speculative glances from other magical creatures, and she was hoping to avoid that this time.
“And there is my sixty-fifth favorite person,” Rudolf said, appearing beside her seemingly out of nowhere.
Liv offered him her best annoyed glare. “’Sixty-fifth?’ Wow, thanks. You don’t even make the top one hundred on my list.”
“Yes, I do,” he teased, looking her over. “I liked you better in that tight green number. Why don’t you go back to that?”
“Because my job is to kick ass for a living, which is tough to do with a spandex dress riding up.”
“There was once a fae warrior who used her provocative skills to distract her enemy, thereby winning the advantage and ending them,” Rudolf imparted.
“What happened to this fae?” Liv asked, striding through the crowds with her head down.
“She encountered a beast who was asexual, and it wiped her out at once.”
“And there’s the reason to diversify one’s skill set,” Liv stated.
“Yes, maybe. But showing a bit of thigh wouldn’t hurt you.”
“If you make another ridiculous suggestion, I will hurt you,” Liv threatened.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, I’ll stop trying to help you improve your life. I realize that you prefer boring and practical things. Speaking of which, how is your brother Clark? He seemed to take a real liking to me at the party you urged me to attend.”
Liv shook her head as she continued making her way to the brownies’ official center. “Clark thought you were the worst, and I had no way to dissuade him from this conclusion. And I asked you to stop by to give me a report about the ring. We just happened to be having a party, which you stayed at much too long. And you left your pants in the backroom.”
Rudolf laughed good-naturedly. “It was no problem. I didn’t mind attending your silly party at all, although next time put me in charge of decorations. The décor was simply atrocious.”
“There was none,” Liv said dryly.
“Then what were those ugly little boxes and contraptions you had lying all over the place?” Rudolf asked curiously.
“Electronics.”
“Oh, well, then at the next party, get rid of those,” Rudolf stated with a wide, toothy grin.
“We can’t,” Liv answered. “It’s an electronics repair shop.”
“Too bad. You really should have picked a more glamorous job like model or hair stylist or perfume sprayer.”
“That’s never, ever going to happen,” Liv said, scanning the brick wall next to them to locate the right place to open the hidden door to the office.
Rudolf nodded in understanding. “Yes, you’re right. You’re too pudgy for modeling, I agree. But maybe in your next life.”
Liv rolled her eyes, trying her best to ignore the fae who followed her through the crowd.
“And I appreciate you allowing me to sleep in the back room at the shop,” Rudolf said cheerily.
“You passed out after a shot of whiskey and no one could wake you,” Liv corrected. “We had no choice but to lay you in the back of the shop.”
“Yes, mortal drinks are a bit too much for me.” He bumped his shoulder into hers, winking. “And good thought about taking off my pants so I could rest more peacefully.”
“You did that after you spilled queso all over yourself.”
“Then the next morning, I had to rush out to a meeting with some fae who work as drag queens in your neck of the woods,” Rudolf said.
“They didn’t notice that you were pantsless? Or anyone on the street, for that matter?”
“I never made it there,” Rudolf replied. “I got picked up by a nice man in a uniform in a shiny car with cool lights. He must have known I was still tired from dancing all night with you because he offered me a ride, but unfortunately, he didn’t drop me off at my destination.”
“First of all, we didn’t dance,” Liv said. “And second, how did you get out of jail?”
Rudolf blinked at her dully. “That was jail? I just thought it was a really low-end hotel. That explains why they didn’t turn down my bed when I requested it.”
“And locked you in a cell?” Liv asked.
“Yes, but I thought that was for kinky purposes. Anyway, the joke’s on them, because I simply portaled out of there without leaving a generous tip,” Rudolf answered.
“But you did tip?” Liv questioned.
He scoffed at her. “Of course. What, do you think I’m a stingy gnome?”
As luck would have it, a group of gnomes passed as Rudolf said that, and they all spat in their direction, holding up their fists. “You know, at some point, I will have to form a diplomatic alliance with the gnomes, and you aren’t making my job easy.”
“Oh, are you referring to that silly Father Time business?” Rudolf asked. “That man never remembers anything, and that was ages ago.”
“It was last week,” Liv corrected. “And he’s the Father of freaking Time. He sort of does remember everything.”
Rudolf dismissed her with a shake of his head.
“Are you going to tell me now why you stole that purple gemstone from Papa Creola?” Liv asked, cutting around a group of elves.
“No, but I am going to tell you that I’m that much closer to figuring out the memory connected to your ring,” Rudolf said.
“Cool. What is it?” Liv asked.
He shook his head. “I need just a bit longer. I booked a beautiful Airbnb on the coast for us. After a long weekend of passion—”
“The law be damned,” Liv cut him off. “I will murder you right here.”
He sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay in the Airbnb without you. Ocean breezes and Waves help me think.”
“Yes, waves have that effect on me, too,” Liv related.
He shook his head. “No, I was referring to a stripper from Venice Beach I invited. Her name is Waves.”
“Ewww,” Liv said. “And you invited me to this beach shack too?”
“Well, yes. The more, the merrier.”
“No,” Liv answered. “The more, the more STDs.”
Rudolf halted when Liv did, staring at the blank brick wall. “So you’re off to see the brownies again. This is your third or fourth time. Do you have a thing for short guys? If so, that explains why you don’t like me.”
“I don’t like you because you’re as scummy as a urinal at a truck stop.”
Rudolf nodded. “I agree that pushing me away is for the best. Otherwise, I’ll only break your heart. But no matter what you say, I know your true feelings for me. And although I can’t return them, the flattery is very nice.”
Liv ignored him, stepping forward to announce her presence to the brownies, hoping they’d open the door for her as they’d done before.
“Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Seven, here to see Mortimer,” she called like a weirdo to the solid brick wall.
Rudolf shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I really took you as the type to fall for your own kind, but I’m not one to judge. If you fancy those hairy little cleaners, then you have my full support. I’ll even attend the wedding, although I daresay the attention will all be on me and not you as the bride.”
“Please note that I’m never, ever getting married, and if by some strange token I actually do, your invitation will be lost in the mail,” Liv stated.
Rudolf chuckled. “I do love the way you plan in advance.”
The door to the brownie office materialized with a note taped to the front. It read You’re most welcome to enter, Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Seven. Please leave the fae at the door. We don’t want trash in here.
Rudolf nodded after reading it. “Please tell my friend Mortimer that although I appreciate his offer, I’m much too busy to g
race him with my presence. I’m off to the beach cottage to do your bidding and find the memory you so desire.”
“Okay,” Liv stated. “You know where to find me when you’re done.”
“And I accept that informal invitation to slip into your bed some night,” Rudolf said, hurrying away through the crowd before Liv could protest.
Chapter Seven
If it were possible, the hallway that led to Mortimer’s office was even dustier than before. Liv bent over, trying to keep her hair out of the many cobwebs blanketing the ceiling. She ducked into the official’s office, unsurprised to find it overflowing with messy stacks of paper. Mortimer was sitting behind his desk, squinting into a hand mirror.
“Ummm, hello,” Liv said to get his attention.
He waved at her to sit down in the tiny chair in front of his desk, not taking his eyes off the mirror. “Do you think I’m overly hairy?”
Liv froze halfway through the process of trying to sit down. “Ummm, I’m not sure I’m in the best position to answer that question. I’ve only met two brownies.”
Mortimer dropped the mirror on his desk and frowned. “I meant for any type of creature.”
Liv tried her best to wedge her butt into the chair, keeping most of her weight on her heels. “You really shouldn’t let that dumb fae get into your head. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Although that may be true, Rudolfus is considered one of the most attractive fae, which makes him one of the most attractive creatures on this planet.”
Liv shook her head. “Yes, but you realize his personality counts against him, right?”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t want to sit across a dinner table from him, but I don’t mind staring at the man.”
Liv sighed. “Believe me, he is even more unattractive when he eats. You should have seen him with queso running down his chin. He wasn’t a lady’s man then.”
“You and Rudolfus have been spending much time together, I’ve heard,” Mortimer said.
The brownie had eyes everywhere and probably knew that Rudolf had attended the party at John’s shop. That was why she thought he might be able to offer a clue about the demons. “We’re working together on something, that’s all.”
“Yes, Liv Beaufont, Warrior for the House of Seven, has indeed been working on many projects,” Mortimer observed. “I’ve heard tales of your adventures. But what brings you here today? John is happy with our work, isn’t he?”
Liv nodded at once. “Oh, yes. He’s supremely happy, and so am I. It makes my life easier too that your brownies clean the shop every night. Thank you. I’m actually here to see if you can offer me any information on a specific creature who is fairly mysterious and hard to track down.”
Mortimer’s face brightened with curiosity. “We have seen lots of creatures. I’m sure I can be of help. Are you looking for a unicorn that goes by the name Blisters? He’s always hiding, but I know where to find him, although it isn’t technically on Earth. Oh! Let me guess, it’s a Londil you’re looking for. Those aliens may not be present on this planet, but I know where to find them. We have eyes everywhere.”
Liv didn’t know what to say for a moment. “Aliens are real?”
Mortimer paused, maybe waiting for her to say she was just kidding. After a few seconds, he laughed. “You’re very silly, Liv Beaufont. We all know that aliens are real. Not magical like us, but unique in their own ways.”
“Right,” Liv said, drawing out the one word to give her time to assimilate this new information. “And no, this isn’t about some delightful unicorn or mysterious aliens.”
Mortimer scowled. “Unicorns aren’t all rainbows and sunshine. They’re pretty high-maintenance, if you ask me, and not as useful as most make them out to be. Just go down to their central office, and you’ll see what I mean. Unorganized, and totally obsessed with themselves.”
Liv tried to keep her gaze off the mirror in front of Mortimer or the dozens of stacks of paper around the office. “I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, I’m actually looking for a specific demon.”
Mortimer gasped and pushed away from his desk, like trying to put as much space between him and Liv as possible. “Why would you want to know where a specific demon is? I hope it’s so that you can avoid it.”
Liv shook her head. “Actually, so I can track him down and take his blood.”
Mortimer shook his head rather forcefully. “I beseech you to reconsider. There is no reason to put yourself in that kind of danger. The brownies like you. We want to keep you around.”
Liv smiled. “I appreciate that, but I have a friend who needs my help. Do you have any information on demons and where to find specific ones? I’m looking for one by the name of Sabatore.”
Mortimer was shaking his head before she was even done speaking. “I’m afraid on this matter, I can be of no help. Demons do go after mortals, but usually not the ones we serve. They are two different types of clientele. Ours are genuine and pure, which are two traits a demon doesn’t look for.”
“Yes, they want the lost and lonely, isn’t that right?” Liv asked.
“That’s correct,” Mortimer answered. “So, as you can see, of all the creatures you could have asked about, those are the ones I can tell you the least of.”
Liv sighed, wondering what options they had left. Stefan was running out of time.
“However, my role working with many types has given me certain knowledge that might be of use to you.”
Liv perked up, watching as Mortimer began digging into his messy desk drawer. Bits of paper spilled onto the floor as he dug deeper.
“Where is that card?” he muttered, nearly disappearing into the open drawer. “Eureka!” Mortimer held up a yellowed card, his face ecstatic. “Once again, my filing system has proven most useful.”
Liv stared around at the towering piles of papers and managed a nod.
“I once met an elf by the name of Renswick,” Mortimer explained, handing the card to her. “A very strange fella. Not the kind of person you’d invite to your parents’ house.” He snapped his mouth shut, remorse covering his face at once. “I’m sorry, Liv Beaufont. That was very insensitive of me.”
She shook her head, dismissing it. “I know what you mean. Please go on.”
“Well, Renswick might be very eccentric, but I believe at his core, he’s a good person, which is why I’m giving you him as a contact.”
Liv studied the card. It read:
Renswick Shoshawnawalla
Ashland, Oregon
“This elf,” Liv began. “You think he might know something about Sabatore?”
Mortimer shrugged. “I can’t say for certain, but if anyone does, it will be him.”
“Renswick Shoshawnawalla,” Liv said, reading the card. “That’s quite the mouthful. Does he go by Ren for short?”
Mortimer’s eyes enlarged. “I wouldn’t advise you to call him that. For some reason, he’s acted highly offended on the occasions that he’s been called that.”
“So, this Renswick,” Liv began. “Can you tell me more about him?”
“He studies demons,” Mortimer explained. “I hear that he has the most extensive catalog of the various individuals, mostly including those who have been around for a long time and have achieved legendary status.”
“Why would anyone want to study demons?” Liv asked.
“I had the same thought as you when I learned about it,” Mortimer answered. “However, all things in life should be studied by someone so that we understand them better. I don’t want to study natural disasters, but I’m grateful that someone does, so we know how to prepare for them. I’m not sure what Renswick’s motivation is for studying demons, but if anyone knows where your Sabatore is, it will be that elf.”
Liv nodded, trying not to allow herself to hope too much just yet. “How do I find him? It just has a city and state listed here.”
Mortimer nodded in understanding. “The area isn’t large, and Renswick is well-known the
re. He lives among the strangest of strange types of people. Just ask around and someone should be able to point you in the direction of his manor, which I hear is pretty spectacular on its own.”
“These people…” Liv said, hesitation in her voice. “You say they are strange. Are they dangerous?”
Mortimer shook his head. “No, but you might find them mildly annoying. The city is made up of the northwestern tribe of elves, and those are a special brand.”
“Oh. A special brand? What does that mean?”
Mortimer gave her a sideways look. “They’re all hippies.”
Chapter Eight
“Do you know anything about these eccentric hippies in Oregon?” Liv asked Plato, turning Renswick’s card over in her hands, thinking that an address or more information might appear on the other side. It was still blank.
Plato lifted his head off his paws. “I make it a rule to limit my time with elves. Especially ones described as hippies.”
“Oh, what’s your beef with elves?”
“Nothing,” Plato said. “I just spent a better part of a cent—” He caught himself and looked to the side. “I mean, I spent some time with the tribe in the Pacific. I’m still detoxing after the experience.”
“What’s the tribe like there? Is that in Hawaii?”
Plato nodded. “Yes, and they are all surfers. If I smell suntan lotion again in this lifetime, it will be too soon.”
“So, how many lives have you lived?” Liv asked slyly.
“More than one and less than nine,” he answered, making Liv laugh out loud.
John danced through from the door in the back, nodding his head along with one of his favorite Beatles songs, Blackbird.
“What are you laughing about?” he asked, looking around as if expecting her to be with a customer.
Liv pointed to Plato. “He made an especially funny joke.”
The feline had laid his head on his paws and was pretending to be asleep.
John nodded, giving her his usual skeptical expression when she stated that Plato could talk. “Right.” He looked down at Pickles, who was trotting beside him. “This little puppy keeps me in stitches, so I know what you mean.”
