Unsuspecting Trouble (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 3)

by Sarah Noffke

  “She says animals shouldn’t be able to talk,” Paris offered and added, “You already know that because you were watching me…somehow.”

  “Bermuda Laurens knows a lot about magical creatures,” Plato began. “But she doesn’t know everything. Talking animals are rare, as they should be. In most instances, it’s not a cause for concern. It’s simply rare magic. Unfortunately, when something is rare, it is feared. I think that in time, you’ll find that to be true for you—and I’m remorseful for that.”

  “Do you mean that because I’m the only magical halfling, others will fear me?” Paris questioned.

  “Unfortunately, this world likes things to be the same. Uniqueness is rarely celebrated before it is feared,” Plato explained. “In the giantess’ instance, for all Bermuda’s knowledge, that which she doesn’t understand, she believes is wrong.”

  “You believe it’s okay that Faraday can talk?” Paris thought she’d lost her mind if she was seeking advice from a lynx.

  “What did your Uncle John say when you asked him about me?” Plato countered.

  “He turned the question around on me and asked me what my instinct on the matter was.” She remembered the conversation clearly.

  “What was it?”

  “Well, I thought you’d saved my life, and usually someone who does that is okay.” Paris laughed.

  “What’s your instinct on Faraday?” Plato asked.

  “Well, I’ve liked him from the beginning, even if he’s really strange for a squirrel. He’d be considered strange for a person too.”

  At this, Plato’s tail flicked.

  “So my mother had a talking lynx as a pet?” This new development fascinated Paris.

  “I think of her more as my pet.”

  Paris laughed. “You were probably spelled not to talk to me or tell me anything.”

  Plato shook his head. “Such things wouldn’t work on me, and Papa Creola knew that. I simply kept my distance until you were ready.”

  “But you’ve been spying on me and protecting me as of recently,” Paris remarked.

  “I’ve been watching you since you were born.”

  Paris didn’t know what to say, which was probably why her mouth fell open as she stared down at the lynx.

  “I mean, not like a weird stalker,” Plato added. “I needed to keep an eye on you.”

  “Because I’m the one who was supposed to bring my mother back?” she asked.

  “My interests in protecting you aren’t only because you’ll bring back Liv.”

  Paris considered the lynx for a long moment. “So are you saying that I shouldn’t listen to Bermuda’s warning about talking animals?”

  “I wouldn’t dare tell you to trust me,” Plato countered. “Know that anyone who tells you to trust them can’t be trusted. Those who can, earn it, not ask for it.”

  Paris tried to think if Faraday had asked for her trust.

  Plato continued, “Although I think that Bermuda is a supreme source on magical creatures, she doesn’t know everything or understand all things. For as smart as the giantess is, she is still very shortsighted. This is a person who never once laughed at your mother’s jokes.”

  Paris grinned. “Was my mother funny?”

  A fond expression crossed Plato’s face. “She was the funniest person I’ve ever known, and I’ve known a lot of people. Pretty much all of them.”

  “Oh,” Paris replied, pride filling her chest.

  “Of course, if you tell her that I said that once she’s back, I’ll end you,” the lynx threatened.

  “So you’ve kept me alive all this time to kill me for passing along a compliment to my mother?” Paris was amused.

  Plato shrugged. “Pride is a strong thing.”

  “Well, I better get on my way and stop dawdling.” Paris suddenly felt like she was stalling, but how could she not want to spend time with her mother’s best friend…although it was starting to feel like everyone was her mother’s best friend. Maybe she was that type of person. It was beginning to feel that way.

  Plato gave her a thoughtful look. “Richelle E. Goodrich said, ‘life may dawdle along in minutes, but don’t be deceived, for it will spring by in years before you notice.’”

  That made Paris think of something. “The last fifteen years without my mother, I’m sure it’s been difficult for you as her familiar.”

  Plato’s gaze slid to the side. “These last fifteen were the hardest years I’ve lived, and I’ve lived a very long life.”

  “Well, I’m going to get her back and my father,” Paris said with conviction. “And I’m going to end this Deathly Shadow, once and for all.”

  “I believe that,” Plato stated. “You should know that when you face the Deathly Shadow, that—”

  “That I have to do it alone,” Paris interrupted, thinking of what her Uncle Clark had said.

  However, Plato shook his head. “Your Aunt Sophia can’t help you. Neither can your uncles. You really wouldn’t want King Rudolf there. Another human can’t accompany you. Otherwise, I fear that the Deathly Shadow won’t come for you. He’ll think it’s a trick. More importantly, I firmly believe that you have to be alone to defeat him. There’s something about believing we have no backup options that makes one pull on the strength they didn’t know they had.”

  Paris nodded and chewed on her lip. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  “However, remember how I said that rules didn’t apply the same to me…” Plato let the sentence trail off with a strange hint in his voice.

  “Does that mean you’ll be there?”

  “As I said before, I’ve always been there, watching you. I’m always here for you.”

  The smile that sprang to Paris’ face quickly disappeared when a gentle breeze made leaves tumble down the road behind her. Instinctively she turned, checking over her shoulder, then remembered that Plato said she was safe right then. Realizing that the breeze was merely that, she sighed and turned back to the lynx.

  However, to her surprise, he’d disappeared.

  Paris shook her head, realizing that she should probably get used to people giving her advice and support, then vanishing.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Thankfully, even after the lynx disappeared, the gentle breeze didn’t pick up and turn into the presence of the Deathly Shadow. It was so strange to Paris to think that her mother’s best friend was this unassuming black and white cat. However, she sensed that Plato was very powerful and he’d said he’d lived a long life. Also, Paris wasn’t sure what had gotten rid of the Deathly Shadow in Beverly Hills, but she’d sensed it was something mighty at the time—it was Plato.

  The fact that Liv had so many loyal friends made Paris proud. She was excited to meet Rory, hoping that he was as interesting as the others she’d met. Of course, if he were anything like his mother, she’d be in for a treat.

  Paris was relieved when she found the modest blue bungalow with the lush yard and oversized front porch. When she stepped across the property line, she felt the energy charge indicating that she stepped across a magical boundary. It was a security system of sorts—an alarm that would tell the residence there’d been trespassing.

  For that reason, Paris should have been unsurprised when a giant as big as Bermuda Laurens burst through the front door, his eyes narrowed and a threatening look on his face. He had a mop of dark unruly curly hair and bright green eyes and dressed like a lumberjack.

  Paris held up her hands and was about to declare who she was, but she didn’t have to because the threatening look on Rory’s face instantly transformed to one of relief. He shook his head, running his eyes over her with a sigh of surprise.

  “You look exactly like her,” he murmured.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  “Apparently, I’m as much of a pain in the ass.” Paris brandished a wide grin.

  “Guinevere,” Rory murmured, staring at her as if she was a ghost.

  “I go by Paris.”

  “I’d heard that you
knew the truth, but…well, I didn’t expect you to come here.” He strode off the porch, looking around. “Are you okay? You weren’t followed?”

  “By a black and white cat, but I think he’s harmless.”

  Rory ushered Paris toward the house, looking over his shoulder. “Plato is the least harmless creature I know, but he’d never hurt you. That’s an animal you want on your side.”

  Paris halted on the garden path, looking up at the giant with kind eyes. “So you trust Plato? Your mother doesn’t. She’s the one who told me where to find you.”

  “My mum doesn’t trust anyone if we’re honest,” Rory answered. “She’s mad at Plato because he owes her money, abandoned her in the desert, and made fun of one of her hats.”

  “Not one of her hats,” Paris said with an exaggerated gasp.

  He nodded. “She takes her hats very seriously.”

  Rory opened the door to his house, and Paris was instantly flooded with a savory smell, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in a while. The home he led her into was warm and comforting. Similar to Happily Ever After College, it reminded her of a grandmother’s house.

  “Are you hungry?” Rory strode across the living room to the dining area. “We didn’t have a proper introduction. I guess you know who I am.”

  She nodded. “Yes, and I’m Paris. I’ve come to ask for your help because I hear that you were a friend of my mother’s. I’d love a sample of whatever is cooking.”

  He sniffed the air. “I have a chicken pot pie that just came out of the oven. A venison chili on the cooker and some ribs in the smoker. Which of those do you want?”

  “Are you feeding an army?” she had to ask.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s normal fare.”

  “Oh, well, I’d love whatever you’re offering.”

  He indicated a seat at the table. “Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be back with some offerings.”

  Paris did as instructed, going to take a seat and finding a warm gray cat curled up in the chair.

  “June Bug, would you make room for our guest?” Rory scolded, watching over his shoulder as the cat vacated the seat, looking quite put out.

  “Oh, sorry, kitty.” Paris watched as the giant disappeared into the kitchen. A pressed cloth covered the already set table. Little figurines decorated the cabinet on the far wall, and hand-painted plates graced the near wall. It felt like she’d come home to grandma’s house.

  “So you met Mum?” Rory asked from the kitchen.

  “Yes, I needed to find you and ask her about a talking squirrel,” Paris answered.

  Rory poked his head around the corner of the kitchen. “A talking squirrel?”

  “He’s allergic to nuts,” Paris added with a nod. “Bermuda thought that you might be busy because of your side accounting business.”

  The giant shook his head as he returned with a full plate of assorted options. “She knows I write books.”

  “She mentioned that too.”

  He laid the plate in front of Paris. “How much did she grumble when she did?”

  Paris laughed, her eyes wide at the array of colors and smells as she took in the delicious plate of food. The crust of the chicken pot pie bursting with vegetables looked perfect. Chef Ash would have been impressed. The small cup of chili had so many spicy notes hitting Paris’ nose. The smoked ribs dripped with a rich barbeque sauce.

  “You cooked all this?” She was impressed. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged. “Just whipped it up with leftover ingredients.”

  “I think I’m enlisting your skills when I need tutoring for cooking classes at Happily Ever After College.”

  Rory took the seat opposite her. “I heard you were training to be a fairy godmother. It’s a great opportunity for you. I think you’re what that college needs.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Paris picked up the utensils and tried to decide where to start.

  “So you need my help?” Rory crossed his hands in front of him.

  It felt weird that Paris had skipped many of the formative conversations with all these meetings, having to jump right to business. Still, time was of the essence, and she needed to fight the Deathly Shadow. Deciding that if she survived this duel, she’d catch up with Rory then, she laid down her fork before taking a bite. “Yes, I’m here because I need you to create a container that can hold the Deathly Shadow. Apparently, according to the father of time, Papa Creola, you’re the only one who can do it. So no pressure. And I need it right away. So definitely no double pressure.” She winked, but he quickly averted his eyes.

  Rory ran his hands through his hair, his head down and a sigh falling from his mouth. Paris was pretty sure this was when her luck ran out, and he told her it was impossible, or it would take a long time.

  Instead, when the giant looked up, there were tears in his eyes. “Then it’s true, isn’t it? You’re going to bring her back…finally.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “I’m going to try,” Paris answered, not needing Rory to clarify who he meant.

  “This is great news,” Rory said with relief in his voice. “Now, please eat.”

  Paris dug into the chicken pot pie for a second time. “Thanks again.” She stuck the fork in her mouth and instantly sank back from the perfect combination of flavors. The carrots were still firm enough, the peas snapped in her mouth with fun little bursts, and the chicken was perfectly juicy and tender. A flaky crust and a thick creamy gravy wrapped all of it.

  “You need a container,” Rory supplied when Paris opened her eyes.

  She nodded. “Yes, according to Papa Creola, I can’t kill the Deathly Shadow. I can only overpower it and stick it in a container, which only you can make.”

  “It would make sense that you can’t kill him since he’s not technically alive anymore,” Rory said gravely. “It would also make sense that only something giant-made could contain the Deathly Shadow since we work with the strongest of metals and use enchantments that reinforce them better than anyone else.”

  “You must be the very best.” Paris took a bite of the chili, suddenly torn between whether she liked that more than the chicken pot pie or not. It was a toss-up at this point, but she was seriously considering proposing to one of the two dishes.

  “I learned from my grandfather, and he was the best,” Rory argued.

  “I’d guess he’s not living anymore, making you the best,” Paris stated boldly.

  The giant nodded.

  “I’m not sure what I’ll need to contain the Deathly Shadow since this is my first soulless monster to fight,” Paris continued. “However, it should be small enough that I can attach some magitech to it to open the vortex.”

  “That’s how you’re going to bring them back?” Rory looked stunned. “That could work.”

  Paris smiled and picked up the sticky ribs. “Let’s hope it does. Yes, then we defeat an evil beast, open the vortex and have a welcome home party.”

  “Do you remember much about your mother?” Rory asked, his gaze low.

  Paris shook her head and took a bite of the ribs. She wasn’t much for getting messy while eating, but she’d also never had ribs as good as these.

  “Yeah, I guess the enchantments Papa Creola put on you made it so your early memories were fuzzy,” he reasoned. “Liv was as casual as you when talking about facing giant evils. I think she did it to keep herself sane when entering a battle. Probably a good strategy. Then there was her sense of humor and sarcasm.”

  “Your mother and Subner didn’t seem to like those parts of her.” Paris wiped her mouth with a pressed napkin.

  “They might not have, but I’m certain it kept her alive,” Rory offered. “She had the hardest job of anyone I knew, and most would have burned out after a year or so. Liv’s easy-going attitude and flippant nature kept her going. It usually made me roll my eyes, but I know it kept her alive.”

  “You two were close?” Paris dug back into the chicken pot pie.

  “Liv wa
s my best friend in this world,” Rory admitted and held up a finger as if in warning. “But when she comes back, don’t tell her that, or she’ll try and hug me or something.”

  Paris laughed. “Why does no one ever want to tell my mother how great she was or is and how much they love her? That’s the third time today that someone has confessed their affections for my mother but warned me not to tell her.”

  “There’s no way that Liv couldn’t know how much we all adore her,” Rory said, affection in his eyes. “Wait until you meet her. You’ll be captivated like the rest of us.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Not only was the plan to take down McGregor Technologies and Rose Industries working, but the next steps of the strategy were falling into place effortlessly. All the fairy godmothers had to do was break up Grayson McGregor with his fiancé, then do the same with Amelia Rose and stick them together. The falling in love part would be a little tricky, but it always was. However, Paris thought that part of the plan would be simple enough—all they needed was the perfect setup.

  “That’s where you come in,” Paris said to Chef Ash, who for once had dressed in regular clothes instead of his chef’s uniform.

  He rolled up the blueprints that he’d been working on meticulously since being assigned part of the project. “Constructing an escape room has never been a dream of mine until now. This is going to be a lot of fun.” ‘

  “The key is to make it different from other escape rooms.” Christine winked. “Ensure that the participants can’t escape.”

  Chef Ash nodded. “I’m on it.”

  Paris glanced at Christine. “Are you ready to look like a hottie?”

  Not wearing the usual blue gown that changed her appearance, Christine was sporting her red hair and freckles. “Yeah, give me tattoos. I hear some girls find them sexy.”

  Paris grimaced. “Tattoos aren’t my thing, but to each their own.”