by Sarah Noffke
He worked his jaw, a hooded expression in his eyes as he strode after her. The crowds parted for them, although Sophia paid little attention to the passersby.
“Yes, one very long life,” Wilder stated matter of factly. “As dragonriders, you can pretty much bet on being on this planet for a millennium. Might as well be happy during that time, or really careful and appease the grumpiest person on Earth.”
Sophia spun around as they came to the alleyway where the Crying Cat Bakery was located. “I know what you are talking about, Wild. Maybe you should write about this in your diary.”
“I will, once I have scrapbooked the occasion in my rose-scented journal,” he grumbled.
Sophia opened the bakery door, enjoying the chime of the bells signaling their arrival.
The smell of baked goods was enchanting. So were the fairies flying overhead, doing various chores. What wasn’t so inviting was the masked murderer leaning against the display case, cleaning blood from her machete.
Chapter Eleven
“Um, what is going on here?” Sophia asked the masked person she was fairly certain was Lee, one of the owners of the eccentric bakery.
She shrugged. “Caught us right before rush hour.”
Lee must have realized she was wearing the mask because she ripped it off and threw it dramatically behind the counter. “Oh, sorry. You didn’t see that.”
“See what?” Wilder asked, sidling up next to Sophia, his hands pressed casually into his pockets.
“I don’t know,” Lee started. “The lighting in here makes people see weird stuff sometimes.” She lifted the machete and licked the blade, the red substance getting on the edge of her lips before she wiped it off with the back of her sleeve.
“Like you cleaning a sharp blade with your tongue?” Sophia asked, her hand flexing by her sword. She didn’t trust this one, although she found Lee amusing.
Lee didn’t pay her any attention as she called over her shoulder, “Cat, the raspberry compote is too sweet.”
“It’s supposed to be like that to counteract the rhubarb, which is naturally bitter,” Cat yelled from the back, her face popping into view through the delivery window in the back.
“Naturally bitter,” Lee said with a laugh. “Just like you, my love.”
“What was that?” Cat asked, striding in carrying a tray of pastries.
“Nothing, dear,” Lee stated. “Do we have something for a broken heart?” She pointed at Wilder with her machete. “This one needs it.”
He shot her an annoyed glare. “I don’t either. I’m simply hungry.” He thumbed in the direction of Sophia. “This one never lets me eat. It’s always go, go, go.”
“And also, no, no, no,” Lee protested, pushing off the display case and walking around to the other side. She dropped the blade of the machete into a bucket of flour, where it fell with a satisfying grace.
“Something for heartbreak,” Cat muttered, her words slurring as she glanced over the pastry case. “Let’s see…” She tapped her fingers on her chin, thinking. “Was it a man or a woman who broke your heart, dear?”
Seemingly bored, Lee pointed at Sophia with a small knife, which Sophia hadn’t noticed her pick up. “It was that one there.”
Sophia blushed, looking over her shoulder like Lee might be referring to someone behind her.
“Yes, you, blondie,” Lee said, taking the knife and picking her teeth with it.
“Okay, so a woman broke your heart,” Cat remarked, continuing to browse the pastries.
“Actually, if I could just get a couple of cookies,” Wilder cut in.
Cat waved him off. “No, we are going to fix you.”
“Or we are totally going to screw you up,” Lee stated matter of factly. “It’s like a fifty-fifty thing.”
“So, I can’t have a cookie?” Wilder asked, sounding amused.
“You can have a pastry I choose, a pat on the head and a gold star,” Cat said, swaying slightly.
“Are you drunk?” Lee asked her wife. “The sun has hardly risen.”
“If it makes any difference, I’m not freshly drunk,” Cat answered proudly, waving her hand in front of her face. “This is residual drunkenness from last night.”
Lee wiped her hand over her forehead, feigning relief. “Oh, well, that makes a difference.” She glanced around as if looking at a crowd of people there to bear witness. “No, ladies and gentlemen, you can’t have her. She is all mine.”
“Can I get a cookie?” Sophia asked, daring to cut into the conversation.
“No, Heartbreaker,” Lee admonished, pointing to the corner. “You are on time out until you realize hearts aren’t made of paper and can’t simply be glued back together.”
“But—”
“You are telling me,” Cat said, seemingly stumped. “I mean, there really isn’t a way to repair a broken heart. Just bandage it.”
“Is there any more whiskey left?” Lee asked.
Cat laughed. “Yeah, right, dear.”
“And here I have been poisoning your mashed potatoes,” Lee joked.
Cat continued to laugh. “No, always spike my drinks. That’s the only way to ensure you don’t waste the poison.”
“Wait, you want to be poisoned?” Sophia asked.
“Didn’t I tell you to get in the corner, Succubus?” Lee scolded, making Sophia take a step back out of concern for her safety.
“And yes,” Cat declared proudly, studying Sophia. “I mean, a good buzz takes me a whole bottle, but mix it with some of the chemicals Lee keeps testing and I’m sleeping like a baby.”
Sophia cut her eyes to meet Wilder’s, but he didn’t seem to want to commiserate with her.
“Okay, so your heart was broken by a pretty blonde,” Cat commented, searching over the pastries again.
“Actually, if we couldn’t do this, that would be ideal,” Wilder said, embarrassment edging into his tone.
Lee waved him off dismissively. “No, we are doing this. You came in here damn well knowing the craziness you were going to encounter. We aren’t doing our job if we don’t fix your problems, fill your bellies and give you a rash that will ensure you come back for the antidote.”
Wilder, who had been scratching his arm, suddenly stopped. “Wait, what?”
“Nothing, dear. Now I want you to eat this in one bite,” Cat told him, picking up a cupcake that said, “Treat Yo Self.”
She handed it over to Wilder, and to Sophia’s surprise, he actually took it and crammed it into his mouth. After what looked like some really uncomfortable chewing and a dry swallow, he turned his attention to Sophia before shaking his head, a sober expression in his bright blue eyes. Through still a full mouth, he said, “It didn’t work.”
“Of course, it didn’t,” Cat agreed, putting a couple of chocolate chips in a bag. “We told you there was no cure for a broken heart.” She handed the sweets over the counter to Sophia, then leaned forward and whispered loudly in her ear, booze heavy on her breath. “How about you make some racist statements?”
Sophia shrunk back. “No, why would I do that?”
Lee nodded, joining the group, brandishing the knife she’d been using to pick her teeth. “Great idea. I could probably ugly her up, too. What do you think of a facial scar?”
“I-I don’t like that idea,” Sophia stammered.
Cat shrugged. “Do you want this young man to suffer? We are trying to repair the damage you’ve done.”
“First off,” Sophia began, unable to meet Wilder’s gaze, “he is not young. And secondly, other people’s emotions aren’t my fault.”
Lee elbowed Cat. “She reminds me of you when you were younger and spritely.”
The other woman nodded. “Yeah, and she hasn’t allowed herself to fall, which is why it doesn’t hurt yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Lee said to her wife, talking in front of Sophia like she couldn’t hear every word they were saying.
“Then it’s going to hurt like hell,” Cat added.<
br />
“We should go into the liquor business,” Lee suggested.
“We both know that wouldn’t be a wise investment,” Cat explained and hiccupped.
“Right,” Lee chirped.
“Speaking of failed businesses, are you going to be here all day?” Cat asked her, seeming to forget they had two patrons.
“Maybe,” Lee answered and then strode over to Wilder and leaned in his direction but kept her gaze on Sophia. “Hey, I know how to fix your problems. I take out Shorty over there, and I bet you feel a lot better. Maybe not at first, but after a few years, you’ll forget about her.”
“She is a dragonrider for the Elite,” Wilder said. Sophia was grateful to see the amused expression back on his face.
“So, what are you saying?” Lee asked loudly, like she wasn’t being overheard by the “target.”
“I’m saying it might be hard to kill her,” Wilder answered with a laugh.
Lee nodded, like this made perfect sense. She tapped her wife on the arm. “He’s tried to kill her already. Apparently, they are much more in love than I thought.”
Cat batted her eyelashes at Lee. “Reminds me of us.”
“Right,” Lee agreed before shrugging at Wilder. “Well, maybe you’ll have better luck killing your other half than I have. All my best efforts don’t work on this one. I swear she’s got as many lives as a cat. The other day, I pushed her down the stairs, and wouldn’t you know, that was the day they had delivered all the paper goods.”
Cat giggled. “It was a great landing, after a fun ride.”
“You rode your ass down the stairs,” Lee corrected.
“And landed like a baby on a pile of clouds,” Cat sang.
Lee gave Wilder a serious look. “Kill your girlfriend now. That’s my only advice.”
He shook his head. “She isn’t my girlfriend.”
Lee peeled away, nodding like she had a sudden realization. “Gotcha.”
Cat gave her a confused expression. “What is it?”
Lee whispered loudly into her ear. “Another man. Really powerful one. Blue eyes over here would probably lose a limb, and Shorty over here is simply trying to keep him from getting killed.”
Cat’s eyes widened with astonishment before glancing at Sophia. “Good on you, dear. That must have been very tough to do. To end something to save the other person. Now that’s true love.”
Sophia wanted to cover her face and run from the bakery. Instead, she managed a meek smile. “What do I owe you for the cookies and the cupcake that didn’t work?”
Lee shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’d feel bad taking your money when you’ve already lost so much. But do have a great day.”
“Thanks. I’ll try,” Sophia said, turning for the door.
“You probably won’t,” Cat insisted before Sophia could tune her out. “If I had to work with the guy I couldn’t be with, well, that would make for a torturous experience.”
“They have to live together too,” Lee added.
Cat whistled, shaking her head. “Talk about an awful existence. If you want to end this, contact Assassin Lee. We could work out a two for one thing.”
Lee laughed. “Great idea. Sort of a Romeo and Juliet. But why did you have to use my first name?” she asked Cat. “I told you I was going by an alias.”
Cat shook her head. “Don’t worry. They don’t know I’m referring to you.” She glanced at the two dragonriders with a serious expression on her red face. “Not this Lee. I was referring to another one. Let me know if you want to put a hit out on yourself.”
Sophia nodded, encouraging Wilder to follow her from the bakery. “For sure. Thanks.”
Chapter Twelve
“Well, that went…strangely,” Sophia commented as they strode back down Roya Lane toward the Fantastical Armory.
“You are telling me,” Wilder complained, rubbing his stomach. “I wonder what was in that cupcake.”
She offered him one of the cookies in the paper sack. Unsurprisingly, she’d lost her appetite and didn’t much feel like eating anything after leaving the bakery. Sophia tried to not let the guilt the bakers had unintentionally placed on her overwhelm her. She knew she had to remain focused, but it was difficult with her partner being the source of her current problems.
“I’m good,” Wilder said, holding up his hand to decline the cookies. “I think I’m off sweets for a while.”
“Yeah, I don’t think we should go back to that bakery,” Sophia agreed. “Although stopping an assassin would fall under our jurisdiction.”
“I don’t know,” Wilder related. “Lee is a magician and probably needs to be regulated by the House of Fourteen.”
“Oh good,” Sophia said with relief. “I’ll have Liv take care of her. They’ll probably become best friends, and my sister will subcontract her to do side jobs.”
Wilder flashed her a grin. “That does seem like the Beaufont way of handling things.”
“Look who has decided to open up.” Sophia pointed to the Fantastical Armory. The front door was propped open and the sign on the front read, Open.
Wilder placed a hand on Sophia’s elbow, pausing her. “You think Subner didn’t open on purpose so we’d go to the Crying Cat Bakery?”
She studied him, trying to force herself not to look at where his hand was resting on her arm. “I’m not sure, but we are about to find out.”
The pair didn’t say a word, simply looked at each other, so much transpiring in the expressions in their eyes. Sophia knew whatever was being communicated between them, had to be silenced. Tortured looks and quiet wanting wasn’t going to do them any good, so she pulled her arm from his grasp and strode through the entrance to the shop only to find one thing she was waiting for and one she wasn’t expecting.
Subner was looking like his usual self, leaning casually against a case of knives, his long stringy hair partially obscuring one eye. He was dressed in his usual denim cut off shorts and a t-shirt that read, “Leave nothing but footprints. Kill nothing but time.”
Behind him, appearing to be involved in a very heated conversation with Papa Creola, was the person Sophia had just been talking about—Liv Beaufont. She had a flustered expression on her face, but it receded at the sight of her sister. Father Time didn’t appear stressed as he braided together pieces of twine, making a rope bracelet.
Similar to Subner, his assistant, his elfish form was very hippie, with loose-fitting clothing and his long hair tied back into a low ponytail. Over his tie-dye pants, he was wearing a shirt that read, May I live like the lotus flower, at ease in muddy water.
“Hey, love bug,” Liv said, her face brightening. “What are you doing here?”
Sophia lowered her chin and spoke from the corner of her mouth. “Maybe don’t call me that at work, sis.”
Liv gave her an annoyed expression and pointed to Wilder at her back. “You need to check yourself. I was talking to him, S. Beaufont.”
Wilder batted his long eyelashes in Liv’s direction. “I hadn’t realized we had picked out pet names for each other yet. How about I call you by your given name, Olivia?”
Sophia gave him a quick nod. “I wouldn’t do that if you want to live long.”
Liv laughed and pushed her long blonde hair out of her face. Similar to the hippies she worked with, her unmanageable locks were always in her face, unlike Sophia, who tried to at least corral hers back in an orderly fashion. The sisters were dressed similarly in dark armor, long black cloaks, and knee-high boots.
Papa Creola snapped at Liv. “Let me see your wrist to see if this fits.”
“I’m not wearing your Bohemian hemp bracelet. I thought I made that clear.”
“And I thought I made it clear that if you want to withstand the charms of the Tooth Fairy, you are going to need a protective element.” Father Time grabbed her wrist and began measuring the length of the bracelet.
“Why couldn’t you have fashioned the protective element into a badass weapon?” Liv threw
her arm wide at the assortment of knives, swords, and other items on the walls and in the display cases. “It isn’t like you have a shortage here.”
He shook his head. “You have to leave your weapons here. Tooth fairies will flee at the first sign of violence.”
“You are going after a tooth fairy?” Wilder asked, amused. “That does seem dangerous.”
Liv sighed and gave the bracelet Papa Creola had fashioned onto her a wrist a repugnant glance. “Apparently, something has happened to the tooth fairies and they aren’t collecting teeth, which is stalling the development of children and causing them not to grow older. So someone, me, has to find out what is happening and get them to do their job again.”
Wilder laughed. “I have so many questions after hearing those few short statements.”
“Tooth fairies collecting teeth cause children to age?” Sophia asked.
“Naturally,” Papa Creola answered like this was common knowledge. “It’s actually tooth fairies requesting the discharge of teeth from children that triggers them to grow up. They simply collect them to complete the process. It’s an archaic part of the progression they didn’t want to relinquish, afraid of losing job security when I flattened the org charts centuries ago.”
Liv gave Sophia a wicked grin. “Yes, our fearless leader, Father Time, has the worst processes to control the aging of mortals, passing of time and essentially keeping this planet in balance. One tooth fairy falls out of line, and everything goes to hell.”
“Seems about right,” Sophia said.
“Isn’t there a regulatory board for tooth fairies that can intervene?” Wilder asked. He and Sophia had laughed when they strode down Roya Lane, reading the signs for all the strange magical regulatory headquarters like the Pegasus Corrections Facility and the Unclassified Magical Creatures Office.
Father Time nodded. “I normally would, but the same agency which controls the tooth fairies is in charge of the fairy godmothers, and they are overwhelmed with quite a few issues there. Since Mama Jamba is in charge of that one, she trumps me.”
