She searched for her phone that she’d dropped during the confrontation with the crazy pixie lady and slid onto the straight-backed chair.
Her mother answered on the third ring. “Dixie, where are you? What’s happened? Are you all right?”
And why was her mother so sure — and had been all Dixie’s life — that something bad was going to happen to her?
“Hi, Mom,” she said, and her voice came out cold. “I have some questions for you, and I’d like some straight answers.”
He mother began her typical tirade. “Please come home, sweetheart. I have a very bad feeling about your staying in Vegas any longer.”
“I’m not in Vegas anymore.” She waited half a beat, then said, “I’m in Moonchuckle Bay.”
Her mother went uncharacteristically silent.
“And I have some questions for you,” Dixie repeated.
When her mother spoke again, her voice was low and urgent. “Dixie, please leave there now and come home. You’re not safe there.”
“Probably not. I just got a visit from a woman who looked exactly like me. I’m wondering who she might be.”
Her mother actually gasped. “Oh, no. This is horrible.”
“Mom, I just found out today that I’m a pixie. Know anything about that?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“I won’t come home until you do.”
Another long silence. Then her mother said, “Where are you right now?”
“In the Wildwood Hotel.”
“You’ll be safe there, as long as you stay inside the hotel! Promise me you’ll stay inside. I’ll be there as soon as I can get on a flight!”
“I want answers now. What about this girl who looks just like me? At least tell me that.”
“I will tell you everything as soon as I get there. I promise. Now just stay inside. Please. I beg of you! Please stay inside.”
“Mom, come on. I need to know now.”
“There are only two things you need to know right now — Stay inside and You are safe from all who see, may your true self hidden be.”
“What?” That last bit sounded like something witchy. It felt like something witchy. Was that what glamour felt like? Had her mother just glamoured her?
But before she could ask, she heard the soft beep indicating that her mother had ended the call.
Michael could barely force himself to stay at work and see clients.
After the banshee client flounced out of his office, leaving his door open, he pulled open his desk drawer and touched the box holding the special gift he’d bought for Dixie. He’d planned on calling her into his office and giving it to her as soon as she arrived today.
Only she’d never arrived. When he’d asked Peggy, she’d told him Dixie had called that morning to say she wouldn’t be in.
He had to go see her. Whether she really was sick or whether she just didn’t want to see him again, he had to go to her.
He had one more client before his lunch break. He closed the drawer and forced himself to stay seated.
The gnomes were coming at 11:45; five minutes from now. Maybe he could hand them off to Isaac. No, that wasn’t fair. Isaac was busy, too.
Peggy sent him a frantic telepathic message: Red alert!
Seconds later, King Ferdinand of the Pixie Court stormed into his office, looking as ominous as a thundercloud — a lethal thundercloud that was starting to spin into a full-fledged hurricane.
Michael rose and said politely, “Your Highness, it is, as always, an honor.”
The king narrowed his eyes at Michael. “I am here to sue you for alienation of affection.”
Michael didn’t think it wise to mention that his wife had left years before, right after Princess Pixie had been born. No one ever mentioned the queen to the king. “I don’t understand.”
“Do not play ignorant, sir. You have been spending time with my daughter, have you not?”
“Yes,” Michael admitted warily. “She works at our office.”
“And I have not seen her for days. You have alienated her affections from her own father. I will be suing you.”
Carefully, Michael said, “Legally, that is for spouses, Sire, and not daughters.” But knock yourself out.
“You are to stay away from the princess, knave. And she is no longer to work here. Where is she?”
“She is not here today. I don’t know where she is.”
Balling his fists, the king sputtered. “Just stay away from her.”
And he stormed back out.
Michael wondered who the king planned to hire to sue him. The next-closest occult law firm was in Vegas.
Peggy came in, her eyes wide. “Wow.”
Michael made a quick decision. He scooped up the box from his drawer, and stood. “I take it the princess still isn’t in.”
“Thank goodness she wasn’t here when her father showed up.” She shook her head. “The gnomes called. They’re running ten minutes late.”
“Give them to Isaac, please. I’ve got to go.”
“But you can’t—” And then as he strode out of the office and toward the street entrance, she sighed, “I guess you can. Yes, sir. Handing off to Isaac, who will be delighted, I’m sure.”
“Tell him I owe him,” he tossed over his shoulder.
Michael pulled his Porsche into the overhang in front of the Wildwood Hotel and handed the keys to the valet. “Be careful with the car,” he growled.
“Yes, sir, I will,” the young werewolf said, then climbed in and drove off slowly and carefully.
He turned to the building — and saw the princess coming outside. She was followed by another pixie, whom he thought was the chaperone who’d attended her when they’d met at the official functions last year.
When she’d been cool to him.
She wasn’t smiling. In fact, if he overheard her correctly, she was muttering, “She still refuses to submit. The insolence!”
He smiled broadly, hoping to turn her scowl to her pretty smile, the special one she reserved just for him. “Good morning, Princess.”
She shot him a disdainful look. “You are still impertinent.”
He stopped. “What?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You are that attorney, are you not? The one who assisted my father and then sued him?”
“Yes.” He realized he felt none of the lifemate feeling, at all. Incredulous, he asked, “Are you wearing your glamour against me?”
“Thank you for noticing. It’s glamorous blue. Do you like it?” She twirled in a circle.
“It’s beautiful,” he said. “Dixie—”
“Princess Pixie,” she shot back.
“Princess Pixie,” he said, inclining his head. “Am I to understand that you don’t want a relationship with me?”
She grimaced. “Certainly not.”
He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I am truly sorry for having bitten you.”
“In your dreams.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now let me pass or you will regret it.”
Extremely confused, he stepped aside and watched her march past.
She was his mate, she wasn’t his mate. She was, she wasn’t. Was. Wasn’t. It was like plucking petals off daisies and saying, She loves me, she loves me not.
What was going on? Was it because he’d bitten her? He really shouldn’t have done that yet, but he thought that they’d cleared that up.
He looked at the box in his hand and sighed.
He couldn’t deal with the on-again/off-again thing — especially when it was an on-again/off-again lifemate thing. He’d never heard of it happening this way before. It was either on or off, no in between.
He was going to back off for a while.
He could be cool toward her, too. He had to be, for the sake of his heart.
Looking down from her hotel balcony, Dixie saw the nutcase woman — her mirror image — storm down the street. So the pixie had come at noon, after all, to sense whether Dixie still wore her glamour.
/> Dixie turned and went inside her room. She still didn’t know what glamour meant, but the fact that a pixie had just come inside thinking she could sense glamour on her creeped Dixie out.
With Stacy not back yet, she had no one to visit with. She couldn’t even call her mother because, for the first time in her life, her mother didn’t answer her phone. But she had changed her voicemail message to say, simply and emphatically, “Don’t leave the hotel.”
She tried to stay busy. For the next hour, she watched TV, or at least clicked between all the channels trying to find something to hold her interest.
Finally, she couldn’t stand being cooped up any longer.
Sorry, Mom, she thought, but Elvis isn’t the only one leaving the building.
She had to talk with Michael. Tell him that she’d spoken with her mother, and was waiting to hear what her own story was. That she would share it with him as soon as she knew.
To maybe tell him she loved him.
She checked herself in the mirror, then added a dash of pale lipstick and ran a brush through her hair. She thought about pulling it back into a professional-looking bun, but then thought about how Michael liked to see it loose. She ran her fingers through her tresses to pull out any tangles and left it down.
Her excitement rose as she walked between the hotel and his office. She could hardly wait to see him. She was going to declare herself.
When she opened the doors to the law firm at 1:30, Peggy looked up and smiled. “You’re feeling better. I’m so glad.”
“I need to talk with Michael.”
“He’s in a foul mood,” Peggy warned. “But maybe you’ll be able to change that. Go on in. He had me clear his calendar for this afternoon.”
Dixie turned — and saw the other woman! Wait, no. It wasn’t her mirror image — it was her mirror image. The magic mirror that showed her wings and crown, revealing her true self. She sighed in relief.
She walked toward the hall and waved to the two secretaries, who eyed her strangely.
She knocked on Michael’s door.
“Go away,” he growled.
She stood before the door for a moment, then drew in a deep breath. This was Michael, her love, her lifemate.
She opened the door, stepped inside, and smiled tentatively.
He looked up and sighed. “What more do you want to tell me?”
She had planned to tell him she loved him, but this didn’t feel like the right moment. “I had to see you again.”
“I can’t do this, Princess Pixie.”
“Dixie,” she said, confused at his cold tone.
“One minute you’re hot, the next you’re cold.”
Wow, she had only asked for one night to get in touch with her mother. Was that what had him so upset? “I talked with my mother.”
He held up his hand. “Your mother is dead, Dixie.”
Her eyes widened. “I beg your pardon?”
“You know, it might be best for us not to see each other for a while. Until you figure out what you really want.”
She stared at him. The hard set of his face made it easy to see why he was so intimidating in court, but she’d never seen it turned on her.
Hurt, she pulled back, taking her heart off her sleeve. Matching his cool tone, she said, “All right. I think it will be best if I don’t work here any longer.”
Michael gave a curt nod. “That’s probably for the best.”
May Your True Self Hidden Be
CONFUSED AND ACHING, MICHAEL CLIMBED into his car and just drove.
Why were Dixie’s — pardon me, Princess Pixie’s — signals so variable? Night before last, when he’d kissed her and bitten her, claiming her, she’d been a bit wary, but not cold. Then yesterday when they’d talked, she’d seemed as if she was coming around; she’d even kissed him. She’d been warm, and the lifemate buzz had been strong. She’d promised to call her mother, which didn’t make any sense, but they’d parted on a good note. Then, this morning, there’d been absolutely nothing, just like when he’d met the princess at the two official functions.
When she’d come into the office today, her face smiling sweetly, the feeling was back, but dampened.
He didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand anything, except the fact that he’d just lost the woman whom he’d thought was his lifemate.
Or wasn’t, depending on the day or even the hour.
But to him, in his heart, she was his lifemate.
He turned onto the freeway and pushed the car to its limits. If he got pulled over, he’d use a power he normally didn’t — his vampire persuasion — to avoid a ticket.
But today driving wasn’t helping. He needed to hit someone. He picked up his phone.
Sheriff Samuel Winston answered. “Hey. What’s up?”
“I need to go a few rounds in the boxing ring.”
The werewolf paused. They had an agreement — when either of them needed to burn off excess tension, they would get in the ring. Sometimes it was boxing, other times martial arts. They were evenly matched in strength and quickness, so it helped them both.
Finally, Samuel said, “I’ll meet you at the gym in fifteen minutes.”
Michael took the next exit and headed back to Moonchuckle Bay.
Dixie couldn’t bear to go back to the hotel after being shunned by Michael.
Her heart was broken.
She’d left the law office and wandered up Mane Street to Town Square, and into the park.
She waved at the hot dog guy, who smiled and bowed slightly, then said, “Did you hear that the queen mother has come back to town?”
The queen mother? What was this, England? “No, I didn’t.”
“Everyone is ga ga over the queen just walking into the Wildwood Hotel. Just like that. After all these years. She’s still alive.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you’d better go home, Princesa.”
That was more words than she thought he’d ever uttered to her. Not knowing how to answer him, but not wanting to be rude, she nodded and kept moving.
She skirted around the Lady Fingers cart, but felt drawn to the Craved Ice stand.
A tall woman with gorgeous silvery hair that shimmered and cascaded below her waist moved gracefully around the booth, preparing a snow cone for a child. There seemed to be a glow emanating from it before she handed it to the little girl, telling her, “This flavor helps find lost dogs.”
The little girl looked hopeful as she took the cone. “Thanks, Miss Belle.”
After wiping off the counter, the woman turned to Dixie and smiled at her. “Good evening, Miss Dixie,” she said brightly.
Surprised the woman knew her name, Dixie asked. “Have we met?”
“Not in person, no.”
“How do you know my name, then?”
“Everyone in town knows your name.” The woman held out her hand. “I’m Jingle.”
Dixie shook the woman’s hand and was surprised to feel a slight tingle in her palm.
Jingle withdrew her hand and pointed to the list of flavors. “What would you like today?”
Dixie studied the listed flavors. “They all look good. What do you suggest?”
“May I suggest the blue raspberry for you? It’s especially good today. I think you’ll like it.”
Dixie shrugged. “Sure. Thanks.”
Dixie paid, and then Jingle’s hands flew as she shaved the ice. When she poured a bluish-red syrup over the top, the snow cone lit up for an instant.
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
Jingle said, “When you’re feeling blue, this is the best shaved ice to ask for. It will cheer you up every time. And I suspect it could help your love life, too.”
Dixie smiled ruefully. “That would be nice.”
Jingle looked at her sympathetically. “I think you and your lifemate will work things out.”
“How do you know about my lifemate?”
“I don’t, really, but I just have a feeling about these types of things.” She offered
Dixie a half-smile. “I’m a fortune teller over ice.”
“Huh. A fortune teller over a crystal ball is what brought me to town.” Dixie smiled and felt better. After she took a bite of the snow cone, she felt a lot better. “Wow. If you could bottle this, you’d make a fortune.”
Jingle raised a brow and pointed to the bottled syrup.
“Oh, yeah.” Dixie laughed. “You already have.”
“Have a good day.”
“Thanks.”
Feeling much better as she ate her snow cone, Dixie made her way back toward the hotel. She wondered if there would be a big to-do over the queen being there, though the queen of what or where, she hadn’t thought to ask.
When she entered the Wildwood Hotel, the desk clerk’s eyes widened and he turned to the side and bowed deeply. “She is here.”
And then her mother stood and came toward Dixie, pulling her into a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I wish you’d stayed inside here like I asked.”
Dixie hugged her mother back. “I love you, Mom. It’s good to see you.” And it was.
Three of the bellboys bowed to her mother.
Still in the hug, Dixie whispered, “Just go with it. This town is weird that way.”
“Take me to your room, dear, and you can tell me what’s been going on.”
Stacy was still at work, so once they were settled into the room, Dixie told her everything. About the psychic. Coming to Moonchuckle Bay. Meeting Michael. Getting hired. Falling for him. Lifemates. Love.
And Michael pulling back.
Her mother listened to all of it. When Dixie finally wound down, her mother said, “Sweetness, remember Joshua Gilbert?”
“Mom, that was junior high. This is the real deal.”
“Don’t string him along, honey. You can’t be serious about this. You’ve known him for less than a week. That’s not nearly long enough to know if you want to be with someone.”
Her mother touched her arm and said something she’d told her every night at bedtime: “You are safe from all who see, may your true self hidden be.”
The Bridesmaid Earns Her Wings: Moonchuckle Bay Romantic Comedy #2 Page 11
