Giselle Renarde Erotica
Thieving Fairies © 2014 by Giselle Renarde
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.
Cover design © 2014 Giselle Renarde
Cover image © Frugo
Used courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net
First Edition 2014
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Thieving Fairies
By Giselle Renarde
“When I married you,” Shelagh said, “you promised to feed me, clothe me, and pay the rent.”
Honoria let out a wry cackle. “You must have been at the wrong wedding, woman. I never promised any of that.” She raced through her best recollection of their vows, counting them off on her fingers. “Let’s see… I Honoria take you Shelagh to be my lawful wedded wife, to have, to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, in health, until death do us part. Where I come from, that means I may be skint but you’re stuck with me.”
Shelagh tightened the belt on her ratty fleece housecoat. Leaning back in the easy chair, she stared blankly at the TV. “My mother always said we were wrong for each other.”
“Yeah, because I’m not purebred like some people,” Honoria shot back. “Or rich, at the very least.”
It wasn’t her fault she was a fairy mutt.
Shaking her head, Shelagh muttered, “Shoulda taken Mum’s advice.”
Picking up the jug from her TV tray, she poured milk over her big bowl of store brand Fruity-Oh’s. When she dug in with a soup spoon, the sound of her teeth smacking made Honoria shudder. Shelagh’s noisy eating habits made her nauseous.
Clearing junk mail out of the way, Honoria fell onto the ratty old couch. She tried to sit on her anger, but that only inflated it. “Do you have to chew so loudly? You sound like a troll.”
Shelagh shrugged. “You don’t like it? Leave the room.”
“It’s a bachelor apartment! Where do you want me to go, the crapper?”
Instead of offering one of her trademark snarky responses, Shelagh grabbed the remote and turned the volume way up. A loud Australian on TV interrupted their passive aggression to ask, “Are you strapped for cash? Do you need money now?”
“Great Mother of Seelie!” Honoria nearly jumped out of her skin. Grabbing the remote from Shelagh’s hand, she cried, “Would you turn this thing down?”
“Shut up for a second. I want to hear this.”
“Gold has never been so valuable. If you have used or unwanted gold, you can turn it into fast cash. What would you rather have: ugly old jewellery that’s just collecting dust, or money for a vacation cruise? A shopping spree? A new car?”
Honoria imitated his accent. “Groceries? Rent? A new toothbrush? The possibilities are endless!”
“Shhh!” Shelagh hissed.
“Just go to our website or give us a call and we’ll send you a free postage-paid envelope. Fill it with gold, return it to us, and within three business days you’ll receive a cheque in the mail. It couldn’t be easier! We guarantee the highest pay-out around, so call now.”
“I think I will,” Shelagh said to the TV. Tossing herself like a sack of garbage from her lounge chair, she scrambled for the phone.
As Shelagh dialled the toll-free number flashing across the screen, Honoria shook her head. “I hope you realize you first need gold to put inside the envelope. Unless you have a cache somewhere I don’t know about…”
“Shut up for a sec. It’s ringing.”
“Or is that why our bed feels so lumpy? You’ve got gold hidden under the mattress?”
“Oh, hello. I’d like to order one of those free postage-paid envelopes, please…”
Sneaking to the bed, Honoria got down on her knees and heaved the mattress up a few inches. Something shimmered in the darkness. It couldn’t be! Had her wife been hiding gold from her? Where did it come from? Was it some sort of dowry? How come Shelagh hadn’t mentioned it?
“…I just saw the commercial on TV. Yup, with the Australian guy…”
Reaching between the mattress and the box spring they’d found beside a dumpster, Honoria grasped the golden bar. It felt thin and suspiciously light. As she pulled it from the darkness, Shelagh’s face lit up.
“My chocolate bar!” She snatched it from Honoria. “I forgot about that.” When the voice on the line squawked in confusion, she said, “What? No, sorry, my wife just found my candy stash. Anyway, you can send the package to Honoria Goodfolk. The address is…”
The voice interrupted again. The volume on the phone was so loud Honoria could make out every word from across the room.
“Honoria Goodfolk. Yeah, it’s a real name.”
“It’s not your name,” Honoria said under her breath. If Shelagh planned on committing even minor crimes, why did she insist on setting Honoria up to take the fall? Some marriage partner!
Popping two squares of chocolate in her mouth, Shelagh winked at Honoria and gave the customer service rep their address. “Thanks so much.” Hanging up the phone, she shot Honoria a saccharine smile. “Honey…”
“No,” Honoria said to pre-empt whatever unlawful request she was about to make. “I’ve gotten myself into enough trouble for you. Do it yourself this time.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“Yes I do.” Honoria shook her finger like a turn-of-the-century schoolmistress. “You put on those puppy dog eyes and spin me a tale about criminal behaviour solving all our money problems. You know what would solve our money problems? If you got a damn job!”
Shelagh threw her head back. “Oh, right, like this is all my fault. Maybe if you could last more than a week at a job without getting fired…”
“Hey, I told you I’m not good with people. Those managers want you to be sickeningly perky all the time. You should hear the way customers talk down to me! I’m not going to put up with that shit.”
Tightening her housecoat around her waist, Shelagh took a deep breath. The argument was not ingratiating Honoria to her idea. “Well, my plan doesn’t involve interacting with people. Exactly the opposite.”
Honoria tried to ignore her. She picked up a novel from the bedside table and flipped through it. She couldn’t reject Shelagh’s idea without at least hearing it out, though, could she? That didn’t show much respect.
Picking up the TV remote, Honoria hit the mute button. “You get one pitch. Make it good.”
Her wife’s eyes lit up even brighter than when she’d caught sight of the missing chocolate. “Okay here’s what I’m thinking: gold is at a record-setting price right now…”
“Yeah, I heard the Australian too.”
“So you fly out to Rosedale…”
“No flying!” Honoria cried. Shelagh should know better than to try that one. Honoria had a hard and fast rule about flying in the city.
“Fine.” Shelagh took a quick breath, and the saccharine smile once again reared its syrupy head. “You take the subway out to Rosedale, sneak into a few houses, get us some gold, and send it off in the convenient postage-paid envelope.”
Honoria stared right through Shelagh’s pyjama-clad body to the muted talk show. The caption at the bottom of the screen read Did I marry a molester? She cringed. Okay, so there were worse things in life than being married to a thieving fairy.
“You want me to steal for you,” she stated calmly.
“For us.” Shelagh turned off the set. “The alternative is fairy gold.”
Honoria couldn’t believe her ears. She shook her head. “You sure know how to get me riled up, woman.”
“I’m just saying…”
“No.” Honoria put her foot down. Nobody back home believed she could survive in the city without using her gifts. She had to prove them wrong. They would starve before she’d resort to magic.
“What could be easier?” Shelagh asked, in a nursery maid’s sing-song. “You go outside, fetch a clump of grass, say a few words and poof! We have gold.”
Honoria had said no, and she’d say it again. “I’m not going to cheat. You know I won’t so stop tempting me, okay?”
If only Shelagh would put her powers of seduction to work in the bedroom, maybe they wouldn’t argue so much. Gone were the days of furtive glances and playful grabs, nails dragged across backs and fists pounding the wall while neighbours shouted, “Keep it down in there!”
Maybe they needed an actual bedroom before they could re-ignite their bedroom eyes.
“You know exactly what’ll happen if we send fairy gold. We cash our cheque and ten minutes later our gold turns back to grass cuttings.”
“But it’ll all be mixed in with other people’s gold by then. They won’t know it’s ours.”
“No, Shelagh, no! You can’t think that way.” A shooting pain coursed through Honoria’s temple and she pressed her palm to the side of her head. It hurt her physically when they quarrelled. “You have to assume that whatever can go wrong will. If we get caught cashing in fairy gold, what happens? We get found out. They track us down thinking we’re aliens or whatever. We get forced into some military testing facility like Adrianna was. I can’t let that happen to us, babe.”
With a deep sigh, she considered the big picture. Rent was due in two weeks’ time. Where the hell was it coming from, if not Shelagh’s little scheme?
“What’s the worst case scenario if you’re caught breaking and entering?” Shelagh asked, though she must know the answer. Jail time. Second strike, so the sentence would be harsher than before, but at least she already knew how to play the game.
Crossing her arms, Honoria said, “I’m not doing this alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I’m going on this little scavenger hunt through the mansions of Rosedale, you’re coming with me.” She stood her ground despite her wife’s wide-eyed panic.
Shaking off her obvious distress, Shelagh picked up her cereal bowl and walked it to the kitchen. “Oh, you don’t want me there. You’re so skinny you’d fit through a window no problem. I’d probably break the sill.”
Honoria didn’t move a muscle, except to say, “You’re coming with me or this scheme ends here.”
Shelagh washed her bowl in the sink. She never washed dishes. After setting it in the dish rack, she seemed to realize her stall hadn’t worked, and she returned Honoria’s anticipatory stare with one of resignation. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Don’t sound so excited,” Honoria said, rolling her eyes. “It was your idea, remember.”
* * * *
“You are not wearing that, are you?” Shelagh asked after another night in the Bed of No Touching.
Glancing down at her red silk corset and knee-high oxblood boots, Honoria said, “What? I always wear stuff like this.”
Shelagh pulled a bag of clothes out from under the bed. Plucking a predictable outfit of black track pants, T-shirt, and hoodie, she said, “You’ll attract attention. Burglars wear black.” And then, “Turn around so I can change, will you?”
Honoria looked out the window because her own wife didn’t want to be seen naked. “Why would you want to look like a burglar?”
“It’s better than looking like a prostitute,” Shelagh said under her breath. “Why are you wearing a garter belt over a miniskirt?”
Smiling at the sun in the sky, Honoria said, “It’s called fashion.” At least Shelagh was looking at her for once.
An unforeseen thrill ran up her spine in anticipation of misadventure. It was damn hard surviving city life without breaking a few rules. To keep food on the table, she was either going to break The Man’s laws, or stop following her own decree. The social mores claimed it was wrong to take a set of cufflinks from a fat cat’s giant house. She didn’t mind rebelling against rules like that. He wouldn’t even know they were gone, and she and Shelagh could eat for a week. Stealing from the rich seemed the proper thing to do, when she thought about it like that. It restored urban balance.
“You can turn around now,” Shelagh said as an unseen courier slipped a package through their mail slot. She rushed to pick it up and burst out with laughter. “Holy Ferrishyn! Come look at this.” She held up the envelope for Honoria to see. It was addressed to Gonorrhea Goodfolk. “No wonder the woman on the phone thought I was using a fake name.”
It was a pretty funny mistake. Honoria couldn’t deny that. “Ha ha. Maybe I’ll get a legal name change. How would you like being married to a woman named Gonorrhea?”
“Are you kidding? That’s what I’m calling you from now on.” When Shelagh had grabbed her purse and their canvas loot bag, she gave Honoria’s ass a good slap. “Come on, Gonorrhea. Let’s commit some B&E.”
Honoria straightened up. A slap on the ass? Wow. It’d been so long since Shelagh’s hands had come anywhere near her lower body.
As they walked to the subway, she daydreamed of their bygone days of sexual adventure. What had happened to them? They’d been such a fun couple in the beginning.
“Don’t you wish we had wings like the pretty little fae in all the paintings?” Shelagh mused.
Honoria’s veins tingled with the fear of being overheard. She looked in every direction, but nobody was within earshot. “No, I don’t wish we had wings. We’d have to figure out a way to keep them covered without crushing them. It’s easier the old way. Just a wish and a whim and whoop! We’re in the air.”
“I guess.” Shelagh traced her fingers across Honoria’s back. “But I think you’d look great with a nice set of butterfly wings. Black and white would suit you.”
At a loss, Honoria replied, “Thanks.”
Shelagh must have something up her sleeve. Although, as their subway tokens plinked in the turnstiles, she recalled their years of more intense criminal activity. Her then-girlfriend had always been turned on by danger.
When the train stopped at Rosedale station, they darted through the chiming doors.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Shelagh asked as Honoria led the way.
“To the ravine.” They trudged along the wet sidewalk. “A lot of the mansions back onto it, so we climb up the hill, scout some locations and get in through the backyard. There’s less chance of being spotted than if we approach from the street.”
Shelagh clapped her hands as they cut into the brambled woods. “Perfect!”
Neither mentioned the spring buds on the trees or the crocuses surging through the soil. Honoria avoided nature as much as possible. Too much a reminder of home.
Despite an innate aversion to iron, she actually liked this city of steel. She liked its sleek hardness and its strength. Whenever she saw a crane lifting a big girder up to the top of a new skyscraper, sh
e felt a surge of force. If she didn’t know better, she’d think it was iron coursing through her anaemic veins. Humans building towers—it was the ultimate act of conquering Nature. She’d seen what travesties Nature committed. That bitch deserved to be reined in.
They held on to trees and each other as they climbed through dry leaves and new growth. When they reached the top of the hill, Honoria stamped her toe into muddy soil. “Damn it!”
“What? Are there people around?” Shelagh looked through the modest wire fence into a big backyard.
Rolling her eyes, Honoria said, “There’s still snow on the ground. All these trees must block the sunlight. Damn!”
“Oh, I get it. If we walk across the backyard, we leave footprints.”
“Exactly.”
Honoria waited for it. She knew what was coming.
Shelagh said, “We could fly.”
Fly…
Despite Honoria’s opposition to using her magical abilities, her heart raced at the prospect of breaking into someone’s house. Plus, it’d been ages since she’d seen Shelagh so excited. Honoria’s exhilaration boiled over. Who knows? Theft might be good for their marriage.
Grabbing Shelagh’s hand, Honoria whispered, “Ban-righinn, leig sinne dèan iteag.”
“Leig sinne dèan iteag,” Shelagh repeated as the wind picked up behind them.
The more the wind blew, the lighter Honoria felt. As her feet lifted off the forest floor, she held tighter to Shelagh’s hand. True, Shelagh had put on a few pounds, but that shouldn’t prevent any fairy from becoming airborne.
“Seelie, help us out here,” Honoria whispered as she rose in the air. Her elbow felt like it might dislocate if she didn’t let go of Shelagh’s hand. “Honey, say the words again.”
“Leig sinne dèan iteag,” Shelagh repeated once more.
This time they worked like a charm. The pressure on Honoria’s arm eased as her wife joined her in the air.
“Where to?” Shelagh asked. “Which window?”
Honoria had forgotten how marvellous it felt to hover off the ground, hand in hand with the one she loved. Giving Shelagh’s hand a squeeze, she nodded to a second-floor window. “That one there.”
Thieving Fairies: A Lesbian Urban Fantasy Page 1
