by Lisa Sanchez
She pressed her lips together tightly and frowned. “Sheesh…Martha really did a number on you. Relax, Ryann. She’s crazy. Don’t let her get to you.”
I knew Jessica was right. I may have a creepy stalker, but there was no ominous evil presence lurking around the corner ready to jump out at me. Simply put, Martha was off her rocker.
I chewed away at the inside of my lip and shook my head. What the hell happened to me? Ridiculous had somehow become my new middle name. Hi there. Name’s Ryann Ridiculous Pierce. I talk to faeries and have an ominous, evil stalker tailing me. Nice to meet ya! I needed to have my head checked and possibly a bit of shock therapy on the side.
With keys in hand, we exited the apartment. “Remind me to call a locksmith,” I said as I bolted the front door closed. Come this time tomorrow, there’d be an extra deadbolt, slide latch, and security screen on the door, keeping unwanted visitors out of my home. Unless the asshole who broke in had the ability to both control and manipulate matter, as well as poof himself in and out of places, my apartment would be safe.
“Oh, hey.” Surprise coated Jessica’s voice as she bent down to pick something up off the ground. She handed me a small brown box. “You got a package.”
I felt my brows knit together. “Huh. I wonder what it is.” I jiggled my keys in my palm and flipped the box over. There was no return address marked, which I found a little odd. I used my keys to score through the packing tape and open the box, all the while hoping the nut job who broke in hadn’t planted a bomb in front of my apartment. Hell, with my bad luck, anything was possible.
I looked up at Jess with a wry smile. “I bet whatever it is, it’s from your mother.” Her mom, Karen, was addicted to shopping online, and packages were always coming to her house for someone.
Whoever sent the package had a love affair with packing tape. I wrangled with the damn box for several minutes and actually managed to work up a sweat trying to open the thing. Finally, the tape gave way and the cardboard sprang open. Inside, a rectangular shaped gift box lay wrapped to perfection in shiny red paper, and was finished off with a pretty white organza bow. A small note was attached.
Time to toss that banjaxed ball of shite you call a phone,
and move into the twentieth century. Q
“No way,” I shrieked. My hands shook with excited anticipation as I ripped the shiny paper to shreds and tore open the lid of the box, revealing a sleek, new iPhone and all of the accompanying accessories.
Jessica’s eyes reminded me of a cartoon character as they all but shot out of her head. I half expected to hear sirens and an obnoxious “Ow-ooga” sound. “Holy…wow, girl. If my mother sent you that, she’d better be getting me one. Pronto.”
I shook my head, handing her the note, which she eagerly read while I played with my shiny new toy. After playing with the expensive gadget for just two minutes, I completely understood Quinn’s unholy appreciation for the contraption. The iPhone did everything but wipe your ass for you, and I bet if I looked I could find an app for that as well. The phone was wicked cool.
Jessica’s loud gasp filled the air as she discovered who sent me the phone. “O.M.G.! Somebody’s smitten with our Ryann.”
I rolled my eyes at her while inwardly hoping she was right. “Smitten? Really? Are we in the middle of a Leave It To Beaver episode? Nice word, Beave.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and grinned. “Whatever, potty mouth. It’s better than anything you might have come up with.”
“Potty mouth?” Yeah, I couldn’t argue. She had me with that one. I shook my head and went back to my new phone as we shuffled out of the courtyard.
So taken with my shiny new toy, I stubbed my toe on the edge of a brick planter, tumbled into the foliage, lost a shoe, and smashed a defenseless daisy plant in the process. Apparently I was a hazard to everything around me as well as myself. Grumbling, I hopped on one foot while slipping on my wayward shoe, and stepped out of the planter, thankful I hadn’t dropped my new phone.
“Walk much?” Jessica teased.
I lifted my arm, extended my third digit, and flipped her the bird, never once looking up from my new phone.
Jessica’s lighthearted laughter rang through the courtyard. “Nice, Ryann. Very ladylike. Hey, let’s take the Mint Mobile,” she suggested. “If there’s a stalker tailing you, we shouldn’t be walking around.”
I nodded in agreement and walked around to the side of the apartment building where my mint green convertible VW Bug was parked. My baby. The culmination of several years of hard work wrapped up in one adorable, mint green package. “Let’s hit it,” I said as we piled into the car.
If it was a short walk to Main Street from our apartment, it was an even shorter drive. The small time in the car was spent “oohing and ahing” over my new iPhone, which Quinn had loaded with what seemed like every song ever written.
Jess scrolled through the massive list of artists and shook her head in appreciation. “Good Lord, Ryann. Your boy has great taste in music. He could be a keeper, this one.”
I focused on the road ahead of me, wearing a fat grin and the first sense of ease I’d felt since we’d left the apartment. Quinn was definitely a keeper.
As luck would have it, I found a parking space directly in front of The Plough and The Stars, quite happy I wouldn’t have to trek half a mile from the parking garage located further up the street.
I grabbed my purse and climbed out of the car, but not before I heard Jess snort, “The Plough? Someone’s got an Irishman on their mind.” It was obvious she was trying to push my buttons.
I did my best to feign irritation as I spat out a quick “Shut up!”
The pub was hopping, full of college students and locals alike. Tabitha, the coquettish hostess who’d seated Quinn and me before, greeted us near the entrance. “Restaurant’s full. You can take a seat in the bar if you’d like.” She shoved two menus at me and motioned for us to seat ourselves.
I made a beeline for one of two empty tables opposite the bar. The Pogues’ “Fairytale Of New York” blared throughout the packed room and I giggled to myself. I’d liked the song ever since I’d seen the movie P.S. I Love You. Gerard Butler is hot!
Jess followed close behind, taking in the scenery. “Wow. This place is busy.”
My butt had just hit my chair when a plastic looking waitress sidled up to our table. “Can I get you ladies started with a drink? A pitcher of beer? Some wings?”
Jess gave our plastic server the once-over and rolled her eyes. “God, no, beer goes straight to the gut. I’ll have an Appletini, please. Oh, and a vegetable platter.” She turned to face me. “Is that cool? Will you share it with me?”
Jess and I were of like minds. We both sang about the perils of fanny-inflating foods and avoided beer at all costs. “Yeah, that’s fine.” I looked over my shoulder toward the server. “I’ll have a Lemon Drop and an extra plate, I guess.”
With a nod and a smile, the server left to fill our order.
Halfway through our shared veggie platter, the bar was just as full as the restaurant portion of the pub. The cacophony of voices and laughter made thinking difficult, let alone hearing one another over the loud din.
Thank God for Lemon Drops. After my second, the tension that had me wound up taut as a bowstring finally eased and I found myself laughing at Jessica, who I’d taken to calling “Chug-a-lug.” Jess didn’t let loose often, but when she did, she was a happy drunk, giggly and flirtatious. She threw several come hither looks toward a handsome college boy sitting at the bar.
Upon seeing Jessica and me, the slick-looking twenty-something signaled his two friends with a slight nod before making a beeline straight for our table.
Oh great.
“So…would you ladies care for some company?” Rico Suave was a player. I could tell not only by his voice, but by the way he waltzed over to us like he owned the place. Pimp Daddy thought he was fly. I wasn’t fooled by him or by his friends. Jess? Well, she was another sto
ry.
Completely annihilated, Jessica was thoroughly incapable of forming a rational thought, let alone recognizing the player for what he was. Pissed to the gills, she sat in her seat and giggled as they approached. “Definitely!” she shouted happily, feigning a fake Australian accent. Jessica wasn’t just tipsy; she was toast.
Rico and his merry band of idiots swarmed down on us like a plague of locusts, stealing unoccupied chairs from other tables.
Señor Suave spun his chair around and straddled it as he sat next to Jessica. “Cool accent.” He eyeballed Jess like she was a juicy piece of steak. “Are you from Down Under?”
“Yep,” Jess lied, lifting her glass toward Rico as if to say “cheers,” and downed the rest of its contents.
Girlfriend was off the hook tonight. I really needed to cut her off.
Rico leered at Jess like a dog with three dicks. “Well, how about I give you an Aussie kiss?”
Oh no, he didn’t!
“Excuse me?” Jessica shouted. She reached for her glass only to find it empty, then grabbed mine, dumping the remainder of its contents onto Rico’s lap. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, now rack off!”
All hell broke loose.
“Bitch!” Rico jumped up from his seat with a growl and towered over Jessica. “You’re gonna pay for that.” He clenched his hands into fists and I feared he’d lose it altogether and hit her.
Tired of asshats who had no respect for women, I grabbed a handful of vegetables and tossed them at Rico’s face. “The hell she is. Get lost!” I tried to stand, but was yanked back into my seat by one of Rico’s nameless companions.
“Keep your trap shut or I’ll shut it for you,” Nameless Guy said, doing his best to intimidate me. It worked. Adrenaline spiked and I trembled from head to toe.
“Touch her again, and I’ll rip your fucking arm off and shove it down your bloody fucking throat!”
The effect of his voice on my body was instantaneous. My limbs stopped shaking and the fear that had placed me in a chokehold vanished. Only one person had that effect on me. Quinn.
I turned my head and got an eyeful of two-hundred-plus pounds of pissed off faerie. Quinn towered in front of our table with his arms crossed, jaw clenched, and a murderous look in his eyes. Beyond sexy, dressed in a skintight black t-shirt that displayed his oversized chest and biceps quite nicely, ass hugging jeans, and Doc’s, he wore a deadly look upon his beautiful face. If looks could kill, Rico and his band of idiots would be dead, ten times over.
“Fuck off, Irishman!” Rico stepped forward, full of attitude and raised his arm as if to shove Quinn away. Lightning fast, Quinn took hold of Rico’s hand, crushing it in his own. The sound of bones cracking sailed over the noisy crowd, and Rico hit the deck, writhing in agony.
Tweedledee and Tweedledum hopped up from beside Jessica and me, wasting no time in getting the hell away from us, leaving their fearless leader whimpering and alone.
Shocked, my eyes darted from Jess to Quinn to the crying lump of flesh moaning on the floor. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I kept my trap shut.
“If you’ll excuse me, ladies?” Quinn excused himself politely and hefted the now sniveling Rico off of the floor, dragging him to the nearby exit at the rear of the bar.
“Ho…ly…Wow.” Jessica’s eyes widened in shock. “Did you see what he did to that guy’s hand?”
I fought to regain composure and stared in the direction Quinn had disappeared, completely stunned into silence.
A loud burp and the sickening sound of gagging tore my attention from the back exit. I looked over to Jess, who’d turned a brilliant shade of green.
“Oh…oh, God. I’m going to be sick.” With her hand over her mouth, she shot out of her seat, sprinting for the bathroom.
I moved to follow her when Quinn suddenly appeared again.
“I leave you alone for one evening and look what happens. Jaysus!” Quinn let out a frustrated groan and sat down in Jessica’s empty seat. “Fucking mollycoddles.” He sat back in the chair, flashed me a toothy grin, and snatched up a celery stick, popping it into his mouth.
Chapter 9
I SAT OPENMOUTHED, staring at Quinn as he ravaged the last of the veggie platter, shocked at what I’d just seen. It wasn’t often I witnessed the crushing of a human hand. In fact, I’d never seen anything remotely close to the type of damage Quinn inflicted on Jessica’s unwanted suitor. I found it sexy as hell, which was odd since I rarely condoned violence. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I saw Quinn as my champion. Commanding and strong, he safeguarded not only me, but also my friends, from harm, and that was one powerful turn on for me.
Jess returned from the bathroom, her pale skin a violent shade of green, and took a seat opposite Quinn and me. Obviously still somewhat skeptical of my new friend, she slowly reached her hand out to greet Quinn, but changed her mind, hastily shoving it into her lap. I couldn’t blame her. If I’d just witnessed a stranger crush someone’s hand, I wouldn’t be too keen on giving him a handshake either, even if he had saved me from a rank asshole. In truth, I was a bit relieved. Knowing what came along with Quinn’s grip, I was fairly certain he’d refuse to comply, leaving Jessica hanging and confused. It was better all around if we kept strictly to conversation.
“Jess, I’d like you to meet Quinn. Quinn, this is my best friend, Jessica.” I smiled, nervous, praying the two of them would get along. Knowing how skeptical Jessica was in regard to Quinn, I wasn’t sure what she’d say.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Quinn,” Jessica said weakly, looking as though she might toss her cookies right at the table.
Thank you, God.
He gave her a nod. “Aye. You as well. Are you all right, lass? You’re looking pretty…ripe.”
Jessica sat quietly for a moment before her hand flew up to her mouth. She bolted once more from the table, in the direction of the bathroom.
“Well, I guess that answers my question,” Quinn said with a chuckle. He turned to face me, staring intently into my eyes, and I flushed. The power those baby blues had over me was almost too much. “So, did you like your present?”
“About that.” I leaned forward in my seat. “Thank you so much for the new phone. I absolutely love it. I just don’t think I’ll be able to afford the service for it.” I hated to put a damper on his wonderful gesture, but it was the plain truth. I made good money at the club, but an expensive phone plan was just not in my budget.
“Keep your knickers on, lass. It’s all taken care of.” A smug smile crept across his face and he turned toward the table to our left, which was occupied by a bunch of pencil-pushing geeks. He grabbed hold of their pitcher of beer, ignoring their protests and turned to face me once again, brazenly downing half its contents.
I shook my head. The man was shameless. “Dip into your pot of gold to pay for it?” I said with a snort, laughing at my own joke. From the look on Quinn’s face, I was clearly the only one who thought it was funny.
“Leprechauns!” Quinn grumbled. “Miserly ol’ gimps. I’m fair sorry to call them cousins.”
I gaped at him like he’d grown another head. “There are actually leprechauns?”
I’d been joking when I made the comment about the pot of gold, never thinking they might actually exist. Why it was such a stretch for me, I wasn’t sure. If I could believe in the reality of a five-hundred-year-old faerie, then why were leprechauns such an impossibility? Denial seemed the safest road to travel down as far as the existence of mythical creatures. If I remained in denial, I wouldn’t have to entertain the possibility there were sinister creatures lurking about, along with more charming beings such as Quinn.
“Aye, love. I’m not the only otherworldly creature roaming about. And not all of them are as handsome and charming as yours truly.” He smiled broadly for a moment, then leaned forward in his seat with a grim sigh. “So quickly you seem to have forgotten about the nasty creatures you read about just the other night. There are a fa
ir number of dark beings more than willing to bleed you dry and leave you for dead.”
A chill shot up my spine and large goosebumps broke out all over my flesh as I trembled. I hadn’t forgotten. Hell, it wasn’t only mythical creatures that had me spooked. There were plenty of human assholes roaming around that scared the bejeesus out of me.
“Aye, that’s a more appropriate reaction. You should be afraid. Especially after the evil presence I sensed near you in that alley. I was deadly serious when I told you I don’t want you roaming about on your own.”
My stomach lurched, nausea rolling around my belly like a pinball in an arcade machine as the memory of the ominous message scrawled on my bedroom mirror flashed through my mind. Afraid and unwilling to consider the possibility my stalker might be a supernatural creature of some sort, I sat quietly, unsure of what to say.
I was about to tell Quinn about the break-in when Jessica dragged her way to the table, slow, unsteady, and still an unsavory shade of green. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead from emptying her stomach. She leaned heavily on the table, looking a little bit worse with each moment that passed. She exhaled heavily. “I need to get back to the apartment. I feel like death.”
“Oh God, Jess. Of course.” I reached into my bag for my wallet as I stood up from my seat. “Let me just take care of the check and I’ll drive us back.”
Quinn stood up, pulling a thick roll of cash from his pocket and tossed a few large bills onto the table before I could retrieve my own money from my wallet. I let my frustration with him be known and scowled at him with a huff.
“No arguments.” His tone was curt and authoritative, as was his expression. “Let’s get your friend home, shall we?”
I wanted to get Jessica back to the apartment more than I wanted to argue with him, so I let it go. I pulled her arm over my shoulder and let her lean on me as we navigated our way through the pub toward the exit. “I’m sorry, Jess. I shouldn’t have let you drink so much. I was so caught up in my own crap, I wasn’t paying attention.”
