by Inara Scott
Kaia drew back, amazed at the hostility in his voice. Apparently, being homeless in Miami was not something one mentioned proudly.
Good to know.
She held up her bag. “I made my purchase. You saw me. I just had to use the bathroom.”
“Well, you used the bathroom. Now buy something else or get out.”
“Fine.” Kaia tried to maintain her pride, but it was difficult with a four-foot-tall, ninety-year-old convenience store clerk staring at her like she had the plague. She still had $11.35 left, so, in a fit of pique, she threw her arm up over her head and pointed to her armpit. “I need to get rid of this hair,” she said. “You got anything?”
The clerk rolled his eyes. “Razors, aisle three. And then get out, or I’m calling the police.”
§
“Faerie!”
Kaia buried her face in the moss at the base of the giant cypress tree that sheltered her from the world. “Shut up and go away,” she moaned.
“Faerie, it’s eight o’clock in the morning and there’s a police officer headed this way. If you don’t want to get a ticket for loitering, you better get up.”
Kaia pushed to a sitting position and squinted at the imp that hovered a foot above the ground and a few inches from her head. He was just as perky and annoying as he’d been the first time he’d woken her up. Except now she wasn’t in a comfortable hotel bed with a heavy arm falling across her breasts. She was curled under a tree in a city park because she couldn’t afford a place to stay, with a perpetual ache in the stomach that was never quite full, scabs dotting her forehead, and flakes of skin peeling from her shoulders.
And it was all Garrett Jameson’s fault. After three days camped out under a tree, she was thirsty, hungry, and quickly running out of money. The chance of finding Garrett and convincing him to take her in, much less fall for her, were nonexistent. If she knew one thing, it was that men cared about appearances. Garrett had slept with Kaia the gorgeous faerie. He would want nothing to do with Kaia the smelly park-dweller. She might as well call up the Black Ladies right now.
She raised one limp hand to swat at the imp. He easily avoided her pitiful attempt at assault, ducking out of reach with a cheerful wag of his finger and a swoop of his snowy wings. “Now that’s not very nice. What did I ever do to you?”
“You’ve been making fun of me ever since I became a human.”
He pressed the finger to his lips. “You’ve got me there. It’s just that you’re so… spotty. And being near you is challenging to those of us with sensitive olfactory organs, if we’re being perfectly frank.”
Kaia wrinkled her nose. For once, she couldn’t argue with the horrible little creature. Sometimes, in the middle of the day when the air was still, even she couldn’t stand her own scent. She’d washed herself in a public bathroom the night before, but that didn’t seem to make a dent in the overall level of odor that surrounded her. After the gas station attendant’s reaction, she didn’t have the courage to ask anyone for directions to a homeless shelter.
“You’re also well-fed and comfortable,” she grumbled. “And you can go back to Faeria any time you want. So excuse me if I’m not thrilled to have you by my side.”
“I didn’t break Zafira’s rules,” the imp replied, rubbing one horn with a smug smile. “You did.”
Kaia fell back against the tree, the familiar ache of hunger and despair tightening her throat. The imp was right. She had disobeyed Zafira, and now she was going to die in a park in a disgusting human body that smelled like the bottom of a garbage can. “Rub it in why don’t you, you horrible little beast.”
“I see. Grouchy and spotty,” the imp observed. “I hear humans find those characteristics absolutely irresistible.”
“Is that police officer still coming this way? Because if he isn’t, I’m going back to sleep.”
“Oh, by all means. Sleep the day away. If it were me, I’d be doing whatever it took to satisfy Zafira’s command and get my wings back. I know, we’re different. You’re a faerie. Much more important than a lowly imp. You should feel free to lie around under this tree and starve to death.”
Kaia leaned her head against the tree. “What can I do?” she wailed. “I’m ugly!”
“And smelly,” the imp observed. “Not to mention grouchy and spotty. Why let that stop you? Surely you could find out where he lives. Call him. He did sleep with you, after all. Maybe if you looked him up he’d feel sorry for you and give you a shower. You’ve got to start somewhere.”
“You’re nothing but a horrible little spy, and you don’t know the first thing about men,” Kaia hissed, jumping to her feet as she spied the police officer approaching her tree. “The last thing I want is his pity. No one falls in love out of pity.”
By this point, of course, she was talking to the air, the imp having disappeared into the branches of the tree the moment the policeman approached. Humans who didn’t want to believe in the Fey generally found a way to see through them or explain away their presence, but Zafira preferred for her subjects to remain out of sight of humans. She still believed humans, if given the opportunity, would do anything possible to control the Fey.
The officer was tall and heavyset, with darkly tanned skin and a thick handlebar mustache extending below his lower lip on either side of his face. “Good morning, ma’am. Can I help you with anything?”
Kaia straightened her dress nervously. After her first night in the park, she’d learned to avoid the police, who apparently didn’t like people living under trees.
“No thanks, officer.” She gave him the friendliest smile she could manage. “I’m just enjoying the view.” Her attempt to act normal was compromised when a cloud of darkness passed over her eyes. She swayed on her feet—a combination, most likely, of the lack of food and quick rise to standing.
He extended his arm. “Let me give you a hand.”
She brushed him away, taking a deep breath and steadying herself as quickly as she could. “No problem, I’m fine.”
“Sure you are,” he said gently. “Are you sure I can’t help? Do you have anywhere to go? Anyone I can call for you?”
The sound of a voice, at once gentle and concerned on her behalf but without pity or censure, brought a rush of tears to Kaia’s eyes. “No,” she stammered. “No, really.”
“What about friends? Do you have a friend I can call?”
Kaia wanted to send him on his way, but it was hard to think clearly when she was getting dizzy again. “I think I better sit down.”
The officer took her hand and helped her lower herself to the ground. He knelt beside her. “Put your head between your knees.”
She complied, relieved when the second wave of darkness passed. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to laugh. “Skipped breakfast this morning.”
“And dinner the night before, and lunch and breakfast the day before that?” He took her wrist in his hand and held it in front of him, looking between her face and his watch. “Your pulse is elevated, but steady. Can you tell me your name?”
“Kaia Verde,” she repeated obediently. “But I’m not sure… ”
“Do you know what day it is, Ms. Verde?”
Kaia had spent a great deal of her time in Miami reading the newspaper, hoping to find some mention of local business mogul Garrett Jameson, so she was able to say with confidence, “May nineteenth.”
The officer set her hand back on her knee and rose to his feet. “I have no reason to take you to a hospital, and you aren’t doing anything illegal, Ms. Verde, but I do urge you to take advantage of my offer.” He sighed heavily. “Truth is, I saw a young woman, not unlike yourself, on the streets last night. Unlike you, she didn’t have a nice, steady pulse. She was dead. So you tell me, is it worth your pride, staying out here by yourself? Is it worth the fear? If there’s someone threatening you, the police can help. I know it’s hard. I know it seems easier to keep running. But I don’t want you to end up like that girl I saw last night.”
“Ther
e’s no one threatening me,” Kaia whispered, her skin crawling at the officer’s words. Nights in the park were more frightening than she’d ever imagined. So far, she’d only been harassed by other park residents, not robbed or anything worse. But she knew what could happen to a woman on her own. She’d fallen asleep trying to ignore her fears, telling herself she’d be all right, but she knew there were no guarantees. As far as Zafira was concerned, Kaia was no longer part of her kingdom—the queen wouldn’t stoop to protecting her from harm.
And the imp would probably stand by and laugh if an attacker cut her throat while she slept.
The policeman must have sensed her moment of weakness, because he leaned forward, his voice more urgent. “Why don’t you let me drive you down to Good Samaritan?” he said. “They can help you there, or at least give you some people you can talk to.”
“What’s Good Samaritan?” Kaia asked suspiciously.
“It’s a shelter,” he replied. “They have beds, showers, clothes, a mail center, and a job-referral program if you need help finding work. No one needs to know you’re there unless you want them to.”
Kaia paused, her brain stopping at one word. “Showers?”
The officer nodded. “Showers. Beds. And jobs.”
Jobs. Kaia hadn’t even considered a job. Jobs, she seemed to recall, paid money. Wasn’t that what men were always talking about? How much money they made at their jobs? Money meant food and a place to live.
“Okay.” She got to her feet slowly, hoping to forestall another wave of blackness. “I’ll go. But I suggest you leave the windows open in the car. It’s been a rough couple of days.”
Chapter Eleven
The Good Samaritan Mission was a large brick structure surrounded by brown grass, a handful of gnarled palm trees, and a collection of men and women who looked as though they’d spent far more time in public parks than they had in homes with beds and running water. Officer Ramirez, as he introduced himself in the car, pulled into a space across the street from the building. He opened the door for Kaia and walked her across the street.
“There’s a day center around the back for people who just need a meal or a place to wait out the heat of the day. Folks who stay at the overnight shelter have a different entrance on the side. If you want to stay at the shelter, you need to go through Jenny.”
“Jenny?”
“Jenny.” Officer Ramirez opened the front door of the building. A long hallway ran down the middle, flanked on either side by frosted, glass-topped doors. They entered through the first door on the right, which led them into a large, open room with ten or fifteen desks, each piled high with papers, files, and binders.
A statuesque woman with midnight-black skin and a colorful scarf wrapped around her long braided hair rose from a desk. She wore dark red lipstick, and had a muscular, athletic frame clad in a sheath-style dress the precise color of her lips. “Who have you got there, Ramirez?”
“Client for you, Jenny.”
Jenny pulled out a stack of papers even as she guided Kaia into a wooden chair and handed her a glass of water.
“First you drink the water,” the woman commanded. “Later, we worry about the forms. You need something to eat?” Without waiting for a response, she disappeared for a minute, bellowed something down the hallway, and reappeared beside a desk piled high with manila folders and reams of paper. She pushed aside a stack of documents to rest her behind against the corner of the desk, folded her arms over her chest, and pinned her dark gaze on Kaia. “It’ll be a minute, but they’ll bring something for you from the kitchen. We can get to know each other a little while we wait. You from Miami?”
Kaia leaned back in the chair, intimidated by the combination of rapid-fire questions and Jenny’s intense stare. She shook her head, hoping she wouldn’t be required to say much, because she doubted she would be able to find the courage to speak.
Ramirez chuckled. “Kaia Verde, this is Jenny Harper. She’s been here at Good Sam as long as I can remember, which means she’s one part saint, two parts crazy person. She can also be a bit overwhelming.”
Jenny chuckled and slapped Ramirez on the back. She was almost as tall as he was, and from the size of the biceps revealed by her sleeveless dress, at least as strong. “That’s very helpful, Rammy.” The smile dropped from her face in an instant. “Now why don’t you leave us girls alone so we can talk?”
He held up his hands in front of his face. “When Jenny talks, I listen.” He tipped his hat to Kaia. “You call me if you need anything, okay? Jenny knows where to find me.”
Not trusting her voice, Kaia nodded. She had no idea why these people were being so kind to her, but it was starting to make her nervous. Faeries didn’t have shelters, or police officers, or anything of the kind. They took care of themselves.
People, apparently, were different. Some of them, like Earl the ranger and Jenny, actually seemed to care for strangers. Which left Kaia utterly confused. These were humans, the race that was responsible for the deaths of thousands of Fey. Officer Ramirez was a man, the sex she’d been trained to humiliate. Yet here they were, saving her life.
As soon as Officer Ramirez left the room, Jenny doubled her attention on Kaia. “Hon, I’ve got some paperwork we’ve got to fill out, and it might take a while. You got any identification on you? Driver’s license? Birth certificate? That will help speed things along. Don’t worry if you don’t, though. Lots of folks don’t, and there are plenty of ways to skin this cat, if you know what I mean.”
Speechless, Kaia handed her the battered plastic card she’d been clinging to ever since she emerged from the Gate. Jenny took it and walked around to the other side of the desk. She took a drink from an enormous coffee cup, leaving a ring of red lipstick around the rim, and jiggled her computer mouse before moving a stack of papers from the center of her desk to a wire tray to her left. Finally, she settled into a dingy brown office chair.
She pursed her wide lips and studied Kaia for a moment before speaking. “You’re from Arkansas?”
Kaia nodded. According to her driver’s license, Kaia lived in Renton, Arkansas. She was five-foot-eleven, 135 pounds, and twenty-eight years old. Of course, in human years she was well beyond a hundred, but since a faerie could live for hundreds of human years, if she did not contaminate her body with elements of the human world, proportionally, the card was probably somewhat accurate.
“Funny, you don’t sound Southern.”
“We moved a lot when I was a kid.”
“Army brat?”
Jenny seemed comfortable with that explanation, so Kaia agreed, though she wasn’t entirely clear what that meant. “Yes.”
“You don’t have a social security card, by any chance, do you? I don’t have to have it now, but you’ll need it when you apply for jobs.”
“Social security card?” Kaia asked, already feeling the heat of a flush cross her cheeks.
Jenny sighed. “I take it you’ve been pretty sheltered. Your social security number is very important. It’s on all your tax forms and all the paperwork you fill out when you get a job. Do you have access to any old tax forms?”
Another thing Zafira hadn’t warned her about. Though to be fair, Zafira probably didn’t know what a social security number might be. “No. I don’t think so.”
“What about your birth certificate—can you get a copy of that? We can always apply for a new social security card.”
Kaia shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
Jenny paused, apparently waiting for Kaia to fill in more of her story. When Kaia remained silent, Jenny said, “Not much of a talker, are you?”
Kaia dropped her gaze to her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said, forcing her mouth to form words. “It’s just that I don’t have much to say.”
Jenny snorted. “If half the men in here lived by that philosophy, my job would be a hell of a lot easier.”
“The truth is,” Kaia said, “I’m not really sure what I’m doing here.”
“No one plans to be here,” Jenny said gently. “That’s the point. Now you tell me what you need. A day? A night? Longer? You should know this is a coed facility. The floor where our women stay is secured, but there are men around the building. If you’re uncomfortable around men, I can help you find another shelter that’s for women only.”
Kaia took a long drink of water and squared her shoulders. She did know why she was here. She was here to find Garrett and repay him for the horror she was now suffering. “I don’t mind having men around. I guess I just need a place to stay for a few days. And I’d really like some help finding a job. I don’t know how to do much. I’ve never had a job before, but I want one. I want to find a way to take care of myself.”
Jenny tapped one long, red nail against her lips. “Never worked before? No job history at all?”
Kaia nodded.
“Do you have any skills? Did you go to college?”
Kaia shook her head. “I didn’t go to college, but I do know a lot about plants.” She thought for a moment about Garrett, and the night he’d called her a plant crusader. Distantly, she remembered his friend Ted telling her about his fiancée, a woman who owned a flower shop. “Maybe I could get a job at a flower shop?”
An idea began to percolate in her brain, leaving tingles of excitement in its wake. She’d already decided that simply calling Garrett wasn’t a good plan. He was a rich, successful businessman with heaps of women at his disposal. The chance of him replying to a phone call from the Good Samaritan Mission was almost nil. She needed a contact, and what better contact than his best friend, Ted? And what better contact for Ted than his fiancée, Rachel?
“I usually tell folks not to get their hopes up about something specialized like that. If you were lucky, maybe—”
All thoughts of Rachel, and jobs, and even Garrett disappeared when they were interrupted by the arrival of a teenage boy wearing an apron and a plastic hairnet. He carried a plate piled high with scrambled eggs and toast in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other. Kaia stared at the pile of yellow eggs and slightly charred toast. She’d never found animal bodies the least bit appetizing in the past, but suddenly she was salivating at the very thought of consuming them. Even a glimpse of the imp, floating behind Jenny’s head and acting as if he were gagging, did nothing to lessen her desire.
