Curses!

by J. A. Kazimer

  She took a sip from the steaming cup of Wish Upon a Starbucks and grinned at me over the rim. “I really appreciate your doing this,” she said. “Not many men would help a damsel like me solve a murder, let alone travel across the land in hope of catching a killer.”

  “What can I say?” I shrugged my shoulder, jarring the duffel bag. “I’m dedicated.” That and I hoped to see her naked sometime in the near future, which, of course played the bigger role in my decision to travel to the kingdom of Maledetto. But if I happened to catch a murderer while there, so be it. That’s what henchmen called multitasking.

  “Do you honestly think someone from Maledetto killed Cindi?” Asia asked. I nodded, and Asia shook her head. “But why? Everyone loved her. And that’s not an exaggeration.”

  Even though her words sounded right, Cinderella’s pancaked body gave me the distinct impression a few people in the kingdom weren’t in the everyone category. After all, someone had crushed the pretty, pretty princess so widely loved under a bus.

  “Exaggeration or not, when you’re looking for a killer,” I grinned, tapping my heels together, “there’s no place like home.”

  Chapter 6

  Asia and I arrived at the kingdom of Maledetto around two in the afternoon as the sun started to duck behind the pointy turrets and gleaming gold of the castle. I glanced at Asia for an explanation for the incoming darkness surrounding only the castle. The rest of the kingdom appeared unaffected by the setting sun. Odd, to say the least.

  “Cursed,” she said.

  Fair enough.

  I grabbed my bag from the trunk of the Ford Pumpkin and followed Asia up the yellow brick path to her childhood palace. The place reeked of wealth, from the golden doorknobs attached to every door to the diamond-encrusted chandelier, bigger than my apartment, hanging in the foyer.

  I gazed up at the shining diamonds and thought, my kingdom for a ladder. I brushed off my thieving instincts when a butler dressed in black stepped from the shadows. He resembled a troll, but without the dramatic flair, his face small and round with large eyes and an upper-crust sneer.

  “Sir? I’m Winslow, the butler.” He gestured to my duffel bag with a snicker. “May I take your things?”

  I nodded, ignoring the desire to scream, “The butler did it.” Hell, for all I knew he did kill Cinderella, which would leave me out of a job or any chance of getting into Asia’s chastity belt. And I really, really wanted to unlock that particular mystery.

  “Thanks, mate. We’ll chat later.” Shifting my burden to Winslow’s capable arms, I followed Asia farther into the castle. My lust for her increased with her every step as her leather-clad hips strained against the material. To take my mind off their sway I studied the palace hallway. Paintings lined the walls, as did antique furniture and polished suits of armor. The thick carpet swallowed our steps. A girlish golden harp sat in the corner of the hallway, her eyes watching me with suspicion. This place was a villainous fantasy come true—riches beyond compare and a princess to boot. The scent of wealth and pie drifted around us. I smiled happily.

  We drifted farther down the long golden corridor, Asia leading the way, her legs just as long and golden. I watched with true reverence. The kind reserved for the Sunday afternoon hare races. When she paused outside a large ornate door, I asked, “Why’d you ever leave here? This place is amazing.”

  Asia’s eyes burned with something I couldn’t decipher. Something dark and dangerous, and not at all appealing. I shivered in the temperature-controlled palace.

  “Wait for it,” Asia said, and a second later, a woman screamed. The noise was followed by a loud crash. I winced, the pitch grating on my nerves. The noise didn’t appear to bother Asia, though. She took my hand, plastered a smile on her face, and pushed through the door.

  “Time to meet our number one suspects, or as I call them, Mom and Dad.”

  The door opened and we stood in the center of a large, dark room filled with books. Unread books, by the look of them. They sat on the shelves in perfect alphabetical order, not a spine out of place. Tomes as old as time, but maybe not as old as the lady in the painting over the fireplace. She made the old woman who lived in a shoe look young.

  The framed portrait glared down at us, passing judgment. If the look on the woman’s face was an indication, she was also passing a kidney stone the size of a golden goose.

  “The first Lady Maledetto and Cinderella’s mother.” Asia pointed to the painting and then gestured to the couch in the center of the room. “My mother is the king’s second wife. The second Lady Maledetto.”

  I gazed into the shadows where Asia had pointed, finally noticing the two people on the couch. Asia closed the door behind us, and a cloud of dust shifted around the room.

  I sneezed.

  “Bless you.”

  “That’s just what I need,” I muttered to myself, my eyes studying Asia’s parents. A wolf pelt lay at their feet, its eyes fixed. Sharp rows of teeth gleamed in the dim light.

  But that wasn’t the weird thing.

  Nope, the housecoat and hair rollers attached to the wolf’s fur won that honor, hands down. I frowned, my eyes narrowing. The wolf in drag looked an awful lot like my nana.

  Next to Grandma Wolf sat a pile of shattered hand mirrors. My face reflected back to me in the thousands of shards of glass on the floor. Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to grab Asia and run from this place.

  “The Big Bad one himself.” King Maledetto jabbed a finger at the pelt on the floor. The king’s grey beard shook with each word. “Got him right between the beady eyes. One shot.”

  “Congratulations,” I said, unsure of what else to say. I wasn’t much for shooting animals, especially fellow villainous ones. Now, give me a clean shot at a white knight ...

  “Dad.” Asia gestured to the brave hunter / king, and to her mother seated so primly next to him. “Mother. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. A duke,” she motioned to me, “Duke ...”

  “RJ. I go by RJ,” I said when she paused.

  “Yes.” Asia grinned as if we shared a secret. “Meet Duke RJ.”

  Asia’s mother, Lady Maledetto, rose from the sofa with a regal air, the look of welcome vanishing from her face at my assumed title. After all, a princess, even an ugly one, needed a prince, not some duke with delusions of grandeur and initials for a name.

  I smiled my most charming smile and studied Lady Maledetto. Asia resembled her in many ways, the red hair and pert nose, not to mention the smoking-hot body. By all accounts, King Maledetto had married up. How had Cinderella avoided her true mother’s ugly genetic fate? It wasn’t like the king was anything to look at, with his grey hair, beard, and mead gut that spilled over his belt like a muffin.

  “Duke RJ.” Lady Maledetto held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My daughter’s,” she glared at Asia, “told us so much about you.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire. I checked to make sure her nose hadn’t grown before clasping her hand in mine. “Thank you, madam.” I slowly bent to kiss her knuckles like I’d seen plenty of princes do. Somehow, I slipped into the role of Duke RJ without even trying. Must have something to do with the “nice” clause. Fucking union. “It’s a pleasure to be here, but under the most tragic of circumstances.” Lady Maledetto stared blankly at me, so I added, “Cinderella’s death. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Oh. That.” She waved her hand in the air between us, probably calling her legion of killer bluebirds. “Yes, it’s a sad time for us all. Honey,” she pointed to the king, “say hello to Asia’s friend.”

  The older man shuffled from the couch. “Duke, was it?”

  “If Asia says so.” I nodded, my eyes never wavering from his face. “But feel free to call me RJ, or whatever you like.” I grinned. “Most people do.”

  “So what brings you to our fair kingdom?” Like any good father, the old king regarded me with suspicion through narrowed eyes. The kind learned by men at a very young age. We were not to be trusted ar
ound beautiful women. Ever.

  “Daddy,” Asia started to interrupt.

  I held up my hand to stop her. “Well, sir, Asia asked me to, so here I am. Your daughter—”

  “Stepdaughter,” the king and his wife said in a freakishly similar manner.

  “Stepdaughter,” I corrected, “is very persuasive.”

  The king nodded in apparent male understanding of the inner workings of the illogical female brain. Asia looked as if she wanted to scream. On the other hand, her mother just beamed at the clueless king, and then her attention returned to me.

  “You must be starving after your long journey,” the queen said. “I’ll ask Winslow to ask Cook to have one of the maids deliver some sandwiches to your room.”

  My stomach growled, reminding me of my aborted breakfast attempt. The thought of bread, meat, and a selection of cheese excited me much more than it should. “That sounds grea—”

  “No, thanks,” Asia interrupted. “RJ’s not hungry, and I’m on a diet.”

  “Of course you are, dear.” The queen nodded as if the shapely princess next to me needed to lose a hundred pounds. If anything, Asia was far too thin. I preferred my victims a tad meatier, but I knew, perhaps better than anyone did, how mothers could be. Mine, to this day, insisted on holding my hand when we crossed the street. Nice at ten. A bit creepy at twenty-eight.

  “I promised RJ a tour of the kingdom.” Asia nodded in my direction. “So we better get started.”

  Lady Maledetto beamed. “Have fun.”

  “Thanks,” I said, bowing at the waist like a fool. “It’s been a pleasure—”

  “Yes, well ... ,” Lady Maledetto interjected, catching Asia’s eye. “Make sure you stop over at Charming’s place.”

  I raised a questioning eyebrow at Asia. She responded with a drawn-out sigh. Lady Maledetto ignored her daughter’s look, and instead patted Asia’s arm, causing the poor, un-ugly girl to wince. “Maybe you should wash up first.” The queen fingered a strand of Asia’s fiery hair. “Do your hair. Put on some makeup.” Her plumped eyelashes batted against her porcelain cheeks. “After all, the prince is back on the market.”

  Chapter 7

  “Please tell me you were raised by wolves,” I said, shaking my head as we exited the library. After meeting Lady Maledetto, matricide made sense in a survival-of-the-fittest sort of way, because that woman wouldn’t hesitate to eat her young.

  Or someone else’s.

  Just in case, I checked my fingers and toes. Ten. Well, twenty if you’re nitpicky. All still intact. Whew.

  On the bright side, what Asia’s mother lacked in parenting skills she more than made up for with her subtle, single-minded desire for Asia to marry the freshly unengaged Prince Charming.

  No wonder Asia had left the kingdom.

  Asia stopped outside the library door and grabbed the collar of my T-shirt, dragging me toward her lips. She kissed me, thoroughly and completely. No half-assed brotherly peck for her. Nope, she gave me a full-on I-want-to-suck-your-brains-through-your-lips kind of kiss. Our tongues met in the middle, playing a quick game of tag. She tasted like warm brandy and evil deeds. Her mouth taunted mine, teasing and tempting me until I nearly lost control and took her right there in the hallway. Her knee slid up the inside of my thigh. I groaned in response, pulling her closer in anticipation of her naughty parts melding with mine.

  We came up for air a few seconds later, and she pushed me away. Unsteady, I stumbled, grabbing the wall for support. I stammered something like: “Ohgodwannaget-marriedandhavemybabies?”

  Asia answered by smacking me in the back of the head. Once I regained my manly composure, she said, “Sorry about attacking you like that. But my mother makes me so crazy I lose all control.”

  “No problem.” I wiped a string of drool from my lips, not sure if it was hers or mine. “Happy to help. Really. Feel free to lose control anytime you want. I’m here for you. Day or night ...”

  I continued rambling for a few more minutes, but Asia had already disappeared down the hallway, the damp outline of my handprint visible on the leather of her skirt.

  For the next two hours Asia guided me through the kingdom of Maledetto. We stopped at the Butcher’s, the Baker’s, and the Sex Toy Maker’s, not staying long enough to interrogate anyone, let alone sample any of their wares. A shame, really, since I was both hungry and curious about a certain vibrating item no bigger than Thumbelina. Asia smiled at each shopkeeper, but the Sex Toy Maker seemed to be the only one happy to see her. The Butcher and the Baker both sighed with resignation when we entered their shops.

  The rest of the kingdom looked like any other kingdom with shops, markets, and wind-tattered straw, stick, and brick houses circling Main Street. Asia guided me through the back alleys, diving deeper and deeper as we trekked through Cinderella’s former home. Was her killer lurking somewhere? I smiled at the thought, remembering the joy of lurking. Ah, the good old villainous days.

  Eventually our trip ended at the crown jewel of Maledetto. The Three Blind Mice Tavern. According to Asia, the tavern served the finest mead in all the land, as well as cheesy doodles. “Just don’t order the Mice-a-roni,” she warned, her face wrinkling with disgust even as her tummy grumbled.

  I prayed the food tasted better than the tavern looked. With a sigh, I decided it couldn’t taste worse. Peeling pink paint covered the exterior walls, only interrupted by broken, greying shutters and streaks of vomit stains. The inside was slightly better, in that peanut shells covered the puke stains on the pink shag carpet.

  Asia and I strode into the bar like something from an Old Western fairytale. All heads swiveled our way. I would’ve laughed if most of their lecherous looks weren’t aimed at the lady standing next to me.

  My hand shot to the small of Asia’s back. Mine, I branded, my eyes staring down each of the degenerate characters inside the smoke-filled room. One guy with a hook on the end of his hand gazed at Asia much too long. I tilted my head in warning, and he quickly backed down.

  Asia didn’t appear to notice our exchange. Instead, she pushed her way through the crowd, pausing in front of a scarred booth. Four burly henchmen sat in the booth, their muscles bulging with evil intent. I recognized one of them as the dude with a foot fetish on the last season of New Never City’s Most Wanted Bachelors.

  “This is my booth.” My slim-hipped companion stabbed her finger at the table. Much to my surprise, the four minions jumped from the booth as if it was on fire. They stumbled out of Asia’s way, whispering apologies as they ran.

  I should’ve realized right then that there was more here than met the eye. But in my defense, Asia looked so hot, standing there with her arms crossed and her foot tapping, that I probably wouldn’t have noticed a midget drag queen in pink chiffon.

  A midget drag queen in pink chiffon appeared at our newly acquired booth. He squinted at Asia and then asked for our order. Asia pointed at me. “He’ll have the cheesy doodles and the finest mead. I’ll have,” she sighed, “water.”

  I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on her high-handedness or her order. I would have, but my mind was elsewhere, about four booths elsewhere.

  Sitting as pretty as a picture in a booth much like ours was the reason for my current plague of niceness.

  Natasha.

  Hate rose within me, bitter and burning.

  My ex-wife Natasha swirled her dirty vodka martini and laughed at the much-too-pretty man sitting across from her. She looked amazing, dressed all in black. The only burst of color was her blood-red lips. I shivered when she bit said bottom lip, drawing it through her teeth as if savoring every inch.

  My, what sharp teeth you have....

  The better to ruin your life with. Damn her.

  I hadn’t seen Natasha in a while. Not since the day she walked out on me and our villainous future. This wouldn’t have been bad, except she took off with the Frog Prince, leaving me with a bad case of warts.

  After her departure, a couple of painful appli
cations of liquid nitrogen to my affected areas, and a brief nervous breakdown, the union had deemed me unfit for duty. I blamed Natasha for it all. We’d been the perfect villainous couple, then she left, and my life went to shit.

  From that day on, I vowed I would never fall in love again. It wasn’t worth the nice.

  “Problem?” Asia glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes scanned the bar for whatever held my attention.

  “Always. But nothing I wanna discuss. Not when I’m seated across from you.” I cleared my throat and reached for her hand. Her attention returned to me, saving me from an uncomfortable explanation about my soul-sucking ex-wife, not to mention a plausible excuse for my inspector impersonation.

  The midget drag queen slammed a plate of cheesy curls in front of me and stalked away as fast as his tiny pink heels could carry him. The scent of cheddar and boiled oil circled us in a heavenly aroma. Gooey, melty strings of cheese dripped from the edge of the plate. Asia’s stomach growled loud enough to attract the attention of every patron in the bar, even the three deaf mice, notorious cousins of the three blind ones.

  Natasha glanced over.

  I ducked my head, nearly landing face-first in the scalding cheese like some kind of villainous fondue. Asia’s stomach grumbled again, even louder than the first time. A four on the villainous Richter scale at least. My mead bottle rattled, toppling off the table and onto the floor with a dull thud.

  Once the tavern stopped shaking, Natasha rose from her booth, her long, lean legs as long and lean as I remembered.

  The faithless bitch.

  “What do you say we get out of here?” I asked Asia, not adding, before I killed the one woman I’d sworn to dishonor and disobey until her death did we part. I’d written my own vows.

  Call me a hopeless romantic.

  “But you didn’t touch your food.” Asia’s eyes locked on my cheesy plate with almost orgasmic intensity. A string of drool dribbled from her lips. Damn. I wanted her to look at me like that. Drool included.