That level of mortification was pretty much on par to what he felt right then as his Fairy Godmother pranced around the interrogation room in six inch heels and her stripper clothes, prattling on about habeas corpus and the third amendment as if she had a clue what any of it meant. When she started ranting about the constitution, he put his head on the table and wondered if he’d be able to get them to drop the charge about him exposing himself to a child. He didn’t want to be labeled as a child molester. With his good looks it was going to be hard enough for him to make nice friends in prison as it was.
***
Rachel felt clumsy as she paced the holding cell. Her limbs were still shaky and weak, her body craving sleep. But despite how awful and unfocused she felt, she was grateful to be awake again. She had no idea how long the police had held them, but it must have been through the night because now it was morning. She remembered enough of the previous day’s events that she was actually grateful for this moment of peace and quiet.
Unfortunately, it couldn’t last.
There were several other women in there with her. A few of them were passed out and the sour scent of vomit and liquor surrounded them. Rachel had several options. She could sit in a jail cell until the police finally kicked Seraphim off the premises, or she could take preventative measures. She was dumb enough to give her name to the officer when she was being booked, too woozy still to think about the consequences of such a thing. Giving her name meant that the cops now had lead on where to go to and who to talk to. They’d realize soon that she was a missing person, and then they would try and contact her family. Not that she wasn’t ecstatic to see her mom and dad again, but her parents would call Danielle to tell her the good news. Confident that as Alex’s mother, she would do what came naturally and tell her daughter that her best friend had been found safe and sound. After their last meeting, Danielle was the last person Rachel wanted knowing about her return. So she’d just have to cut this disaster off at the pass.
“Officer, sir?” she called, trying to sound as sober and sweet as possible. The man sitting at a desk down the hall looked over at her.
“What?” he asked sourly. He had an open hardback in his hands, but Rachel could just make out the edges of a comic hanging down past the bottom of the book.
“Can I make my one phone call now?”
He stared at the hidden comic a bit longer before he got to his feet grumbling and came to let her out. She followed him to the mounted phone at the end of the hallway and as he watched, she put in her change and dialed a familiar number. She was wondering why police departments hadn’t upgraded to cordless phones yet when it came to this sort of thing, when a man answered the phone.
“Hello?” he said pleasantly, deep voice carefree.
Rachel starred down at the mouthpiece before pressing the phone back against her ear.
“Um, is Alex there?” she asked.
Silence for a moment before the man spoke again, only this time there was threat underlying his voice.
“Who is this?”
“My name is Rachel,” she explained quickly, worried that he might hang up on her before she got a chance to speak to her friend. “I just need to-”
He didn’t bother listening to anything else she had to say. As soon as he heard her name, the man on the other end of the line whooped and dropped the phone with a clatter. Rachel winced at the noise.
“Alex!” he boomed, and she heard his footsteps race off.
Five seconds later, Rachel heard Alex squeal in joy and she rolled her eyes as that sound was immediately followed by helpless sobbing.
“You alright?” It was the cop, and Rachel realized with a start that she was crying too. She turned her back on him and wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks.
“I’m fine,” she said, and for the first time in a long time she knew it was true.
***
It took some time, and several threats, before Alex calmed down enough to listen to what Rachel had to say.
“You’re in jail?” she exclaimed. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know better than to get caught?” she gasped suddenly. “Hey, hey, hey,” she chortled. “Look who’s on the news…what’d you do with the naked guy?”
Rachel’s jaw clenched and some of her inner glow faded. Funny. She’d forgotten that Alex could be so annoying.
“Can we talk about this when I’m not surrounded by pickpockets and prostitutes?”
“Have you talked to any of those people?” Alex asked.
“What?”
“Well maybe they’re nice folk and you’re just being a judgy mcjudgy pants.”
“Are we still in elementary school?” Rachel snapped, growing exasperated. “Because I wasn’t aware that phrases like that existed outside of the minds of prepubescent snot monsters.”
“And I wasn’t aware that Miss McJudgy pants had hopped on the assumption train bound towards Bully-ville.”
Rachel paused, took a deep breath, and tried again.
“I’m not doing this,” she stated calmly. “Put that guy back on.”
“Sam?”
“I don’t care what his name is, just put him on.”
“Fine.”
There was a muffled exchange of words and then the man, Sam, was on the line again.
“Hello?” he said uncertainly and Rachel’s voice lowered to a hiss.
“If you don’t want me to strangle her in her sleep, you will listen very, very carefully,” she began. “I don’t know what sort of relationship you two have, but it’s obviously good enough that you’re answering her cell phone. You tell that loud-mouthed trollop to go get some of her trust fund money to bail me out of jail or so help me god-”
She was shocked when he started laughing. A rolling sound from deep within his chest that was endearing enough that she actually felt her lips quirk in unconscious amusement. She could hear him take a breath to say something, but the line went dead as the officer depressed the flap that cradled the ear piece, ending the call.
“Time’s up,” he said calmly.
Rachel stared him down, her jaw working as she tried to calm herself. Knowing it was a losing battle, she dropped the phone and marched back to her cell.
“Asshole,” she said, hoping to god that the acoustics in that area of the jail were good enough for him to hear her. If the way he slammed the cell door closed after her was any clue, the acoustics worked just fine. For the first time since she woke up, Rachel smiled.
Chapter Fourteen
Rachel was dreaming again.
She didn’t enjoy it any more now than she had all the other times.
Rachel was sitting in a chair across a desk from Zaran. He wore a pair of rimless reading glasses and he was looking through a pack of papers and muttering to himself.
“This is weird,” Rachel said. Her words made him glance up in surprise and after a moment of disbelief, he smiled. Taking the glasses from his nose, he leaned back in his chair and regarded her levelly.
“Rachel Constance Dupree,” he said warmly, voice verging on sultry. “What brings you here, little love?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, glancing around at his office as she spoke. “I think this is a dream. Is this a dream?”
Instead of answering, he rose from his seat and came around his desk to sit on the edge closest to her. He reached towards her, and she would have flinched away from his touch, but it was too late. His bare skin brushed across her cheek, fingers caught in her ringlets, and he smiled.
“Did you like my gift?”
“The fairy dust?” she asked, feeling dazed. “It worked out great.” She grinned.
“Lovely,” he said. “Now I’ll need you to do something for me in return?”
“Why?” she asked. “I thought it was a gift?”
He threw his head back and laughed boisterously. “Nothing in this world is free, and everything in the next is overpriced. I helped you, now you’re going to have to help me.” As he spoke, hi
s fingers had been trailing down the side of her face. He cupped Rachel’s chin and angled her head slightly so that he could gaze sternly into her eyes. “If you don’t, I’m afraid that my good graces won’t feel so good anymore.”
Agony spiked through her and she rocked back, but he jerked her forward and held her still. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “We have history, you and I. A good working relationship. That’s how I knew I could trust you with this instead of that bitch Rapunzel. I’d hate to think I was wrong.”
Leaning forward, he nuzzled her ear. It felt so real, it was hard to remember that all of this was nothing but a dream. “Was I wrong?” he asked quietly, and she shook her head in denial.
“Good,” he said with a grin. “Now, your job is a simple one. When Danielle comes for you, listen to what she has to say. Go where she tells you to. Then break the vial. Simple.”
“What does it do?” she asked, thinking that if Zaran could be trapped in a bottle, then anything else could too.
“It breaks your spell, little love,” he said, sounding amused. “It sets you free.”
“How does breaking my spell help you?”
He pressed the palm of his hands over her eyes and spoke low and deep.
“You’re the last one to suffer the curse. You’re the only one who can break it. Break the vial, break the spell, and you’ll free the other sleepers.”
His hand pulsed with warmth and all of a sudden her dream changed. She opened her eyes to find herself standing in the middle of a room. Surrounded on all sides by bookshelves. Only the shelves held bottles and vases instead of books. They reminded her of the crystal vase that had once held Zaran. They each had a sparkling, shimmering light within them. Something tangible and sentient. As they caught sight of her the lights surged against their delicate cages, their musical voices filling the air with desperation. There had to be hundreds, even thousands, of the bottles, but only one caught her eye.
It was empty and sitting on shelf directly before her. There was a label on it that read “Sleeping Beauty” and Rachel would have sworn that it was mocking her. Rachel lunged for the container, but the dream swirled in blackness and disappeared as she jerked awake.
“Rach?” She flinched, twisting on her cot to look toward the locked door. Alex was standing on the other side, her hands clenched around the width of the bars. Her face contorted and tears filled her eyes. “Rachel,” she sobbed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Rachel got to her feet, her steps unsteady as she stumbled towards the cell door. She grabbed Alex’s fingers with her own and their foreheads pressed together.
“You’ve always been such a crybaby.”
“Where the flying fuck have you been?” she sniffled. “And why the hell is Maleficent going all Legally Blond in the lobby?”
“Maleficent?” she queried. “Who are you talking about?”
Alex sniffed one more time before pulling back to look her in the eye.
“That psycho-bitch stripper,” she said. “She’s talking to a bunch of cops, and I’m not really sure if she’s berating them or listing her prices for lap dances.” Alex shrugged. “I didn’t really want to get too close and find out.”
“So Seraphim’s real name is Mal-?”
“Don’t,” Alex shook her head vehemently. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Say her name three times. Beetlejuice rules on this one, bae.”
“Did you just call me ‘bae?’”
Alex shrugged.
“Times, they are a’changin.”
“Whatever.” Rachel rolled her eyes. She shook the cage like an animal. “Now get me out of here. You posted my bail, right?”
Alex nodded, but for some reason her gaze dropped and her mouth pursed.
“What?” Rachel asked, growing suspicious.
“First,” she began, “this isn’t my fault.”
“Alex…”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” Alex groused. “I posted bail. But for some reason we can’t get anyone to come unlock the cell.”
“What? Why not?”
“They sort of…keep…falling asleep.”
Alex sent a significant glance over Rachel’s shoulder, and Rachel turned to follow her gaze. All the women who’d been in the cell with her were deeply asleep. They slumped against walls, curled up on the ground, intertwined with one another like puppies. There was something…familiar about this sleep. Something frightening.
“Has anyone woken up?” Rachel asked, her voice strained.
She could practically feel Alex hesitate before she answered.
“No. No matter what we do they won’t get up. The paramedics arrived a few minutes ago. They think it’s because of a gas leak or something.”
“Alex,” Rachel began. “It isn’t-?”
“I know,” she hissed, interrupting the rest of Rachel’s words in a rush. “How far is your reach?” she asked.
Rachel shook her head. “I don’t know. This is the first time it’s happened.”
Alex cursed.
“Ok. Stand back.”
Rachel did as she was told and Alex pressed her palm against the cell lock. Her brows furrowed in concentration, and for a moment Rachel could swear that she saw thin vines defined beneath her skin like veins before slipping back beneath the surface.
“What the hell?”
“Shh,” Rachel growled.
The lock turned red and began to smoke. Rachel stared on in astonishment as the steel melted down into a mangled mess. She pulled away with a gasp, her face pale and slick with sweat. Then, shooting Rachel a wild grin of triumph, she grabbed the door and yanked it open.
“Come on.”
“How did you do that?”
Alex shrugged.
“Momma taught me.”
Rachel stopped where she was and stared at Alex in horror. “Danielle?”
“Well, yeah,” Alex said, obviously confused. “It’s not like I have another one.”
Rachel scowled, her heart beating a terrified tattoo within her breast.
“You’re just like her,” Rachel whispered. Her body was feeling hot and she shook her head angrily. “You’re just like her.”
“No, I’m not. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Where were you then? She locked me away and left me to rot, but where were you, Alex? When I needed you?”
Alex lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist. Her face was no longer pale, but flushed with angry color. “I was looking for you. I never stopped looking for you. And I’m nothing like my mother. Don’t you ever say that again, you ungrateful tramp.”
They glared at one another for precious seconds, before Rachel shook her head and laughed.
“You’re adorable, you know that?”
“And you’re a pain in my ass. Now let’s go before they find the gas masks and take us down like a pair of wild hyena.”
Rachel laughed, her heart lifting despite the dark turn things had taken.
They had only taken a few steps down the hall together when Rachel pulled Alex to a halt.
“What is it?”
“We have to stop somewhere first.”
***
Chris was crouching in a corner, his palms and feet flat on the floor and his eyes heavy-lidded with exhaustion. It hadn’t been long since Samantha had given up on him under the pretext of “letting him think.” He wasn’t thinking about how he could make her job any easier by telling her his name and what had really led up to he and Rachel showing up at the mini golf course and starting a riot. Because that would be silly. Mostly he thought about how it would be so easy to break out of this place if he could just shift into a frog. He’d never thought he’d miss being able to shift, but after going through one Twixt and Twain as human, he wasn’t nearly as impressed as he’d expected to be.
Humans were big.
Chris was even bigger than most.
They were cumbersome and heavy. They
moved slowly. It was a chore to carry around two hundred plus pounds all the time. The worst part was that he couldn’t even make timely exits when he wanted to. There was something slow and peaceful in the mind of a frog. The brain was a lot smaller for one, so he had less room in there to worry and doubt. His human mind was way too focused, too fixated, on thoughts and ideas. On emotions, and consequences, and people.
Or rather, one person in particular.
He wondered how long it would take for the effects of the fairy dust to wear off.
The door creaked open and he tensed, the muscles in his thighs and calves bunching as he gathered himself. He thought back to when he’d jumped up to catch Rachel. The power that had sang through his body. The certainty that he could go higher if he really wanted to. Further. He wondered what would happen if he did so right then. Simply gave it his all. Would he brain himself on the ceiling, or pull a superman and make the ceiling his prison bitch?
“Psst.” His tension drained away immediately as Rachel stuck her head around the doorframe, brown eyes sparkling. She grinned. “Someone call for a large order of ‘save-my-ass?’”
He sighed, and shook his head. “I told the girl on the phone I wanted a large ‘I’m-too-pretty-to-go-jail,’ with a side order of emasculation. But this’ll have to do.”
“Is this banter?” came a second voice. A young woman leaned in past Rachel and grinned. “Cause I like this. It feels good. It feels natural. Rachel, hun, when did you pull that stick out of your ass?”
Rachel gazed down at her sadly.
“Your lifespan will be tragically short,” she spoke with such conviction that the other woman bit her lip and bowed her head in sudden trepidation. She cleared her throat.
“We uh…we should get out of here.”
Rachel smiled after her, before waving for Chirs to get a move on. He hurried after the two of them and they all made their way through the prison. He was surprised when Rachel reached back to grab his hand. His fingers tightened around hers and she responded with a squeeze. He was trying to figure out how they would make it past the policeman along the way, but the first cop they found was leaning against the wall asleep. So was the second, and the third and fourth. By the time they reached the main room, bodies were strewn everywhere and Chris had to keep his eyes on the floor to keep from stepping on anyone.
Fairest 02 - The Frog Prince Page 10
