“And what the fuck do you think you can do that we can’t, dude?” Nina groused. Clearly, her feminist tendencies were offended.
But Sten grabbed Nina’s hand before she could say another word and then, they both disappeared, leaving Murphy in another state of awe and wonder. Experiencing this was like being in a weird Spielberg movie that she couldn’t tell anyone about.
When they reappeared in the kitchen, a gentle, warm breeze announcing their arrival, he smiled affably at the vampire, who made a face at him. “That’s what I can do, Vampire. I can get us in and out without anyone ever knowing. If trouble’s afoot, I’ll zap us out of there. I don’t know what we’re dealing with, and that means we need all the manpower and supernatural powers we can summon. And speaking of, there’s something else I need to do. I need to speak to a magic troll. If we’re to believe Bellamy is telling the truth about not remembering who she got the curse from, I’ve begun to wonder if maybe someone erased her memory. A magic troll can tell me if she’s lying. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me until now.”
“You can do that?” Murphy squawked in disbelief.
She felt stupid amidst all these paranormals, her mouth constantly hanging open in incredulity, but come on.
Seriously, this had all been going on in the world around them, and no one knew about it? How was that even possible? How did all these people hide from the outside world? How would she hide?
“Yep,” Sten confirmed. “I can do that. In fact, I’ll do that right now. Excuse me while I make a phone call.”
The doorbell rang then, a big clang of a gong, sending Arch off to answer it, his cheerful voice welcoming whomever was on the other side of the door.
“Master Sam! How wonderful to see you! Do come in! I’ve chilled the very best synthetic blood in your honor.”
A very large, very pale handsome man with dark hair and probably as many muscles as the rest of these supernatural men had, sauntered into the kitchen and smiled at everyone with a wave of his hand.
“Ladies, how can I help?”
Marty and Wanda ran to give him a hug and a kiss, and Nina slapped him on the back. “Brother-in-law, thanks for coming over to give us a fucking hand.”
“Always, he said amiably, sticking out his wide hand in Murphy’s direction. “You must be Murphy.” He didn’t even blink at the color of her skin or her hair or anything, nor after his eyes skimmed over Nova’s sleeping form. “I’m Sam McLean. Great to meet you.”
Murphy gave him a tired smile. “Thank you for helping us, Sam. I really appreciate it.”
“Sorry we’re meeting under such crappy circumstances, but I get what you’re going through. Believe me, I get it.”
“Yeah, he sure as fuck does,” Nina agreed as she handed him the phone they’d found at Nova’s. “He’s another one of our accidents, and now look at him. He’s married to my sister, Phoebe.”
Sam’s handsome face went bright and warm at the mention of Nina’s sister. “That’s very true. I did marry her sister, and I learned everything I know about being a vampire from Nina.”
“Your sister’s a vampire, too?” Murphy asked as she shook her hand. She’d always thought vampires were made, and if Nina was an accident…
Nina grinned her beautiful grin and nudged Sam. “Long fucking story, kiddo. One I’ll tell you someday when shit’s not so fucked up. Suffice it to say, it was all one big clusterfuck of an accident. Kind of like you and your snack of a boyfriend with the green hair and the big muscles.”
Murphy’s cheeks went red. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since she’d left Vermont. There was no time for a boyfriend when she was so busy chasing after Nova.
But if she did have time, Sten wouldn’t be her last pick…
Then she mentally chastised herself for thinking about something so inconsequential when her sister was in dire straits.
Speaking of her boyfriend—er, Sten, he tapped his phone to end the call he’d made and glanced at Bellamy. “I just talked to Gilda, and she said she’d meet us at your place so she can determine if you were magicked.”
Murphy fully expected her to protest, but Bellamy nodded her dark head. “Whatever you need. Did she say if she could help us retrieve the information?”
Sten grimaced as he grabbed his coat from the back of a kitchen chair and slid it on. “That she can’t do, but at least she can tell us what kind of magic was used. It might give us a lead about where to even begin to look.”
“Because I’m guessing there are all sorts of varieties of magic in Troll Hill, too, right?”
Sten grinned at her. “You’re catching on, Murphy. You’ll be a full-fledged troll in no time flat.”
She grabbed her jacket, too, ridiculously pleased he’d complimented her, but trying to contain an openly obvious preen. This was no time to be flirty. Not when Nova’s safety was at stake.
“Maybe you should wait here,” he cautioned. “Gilda’s a lot, to say the least. Also, you look really beat, Murphy. Why not grab a nap or something? Bellamy and I have this.”
But the shake of her head was firm. “No. I’m eyeball deep in this, too, and if I’m going to have to be a troll till the end of eternity, I might as well start learning the ropes now. So let’s go see a lady about some magic.”
He gave her a lopsided grin as he headed toward the front door. “Let’s do it.”
Marty flew into the entryway on her fashionably heeled boots with Wanda right behind her. “Not without us. Manpower is manpower, and we’re a whole lotta manpower. Plus, Murphy looks like she’s about had it. We have to support our girl.”
Wanda gave Murphy’s cheek an affectionate pinch and smiled. “Yes, we do. And don’t forget, magic. Hello! Who doesn’t want to see some magic? Because Heaven knows, Nina sucks at it.”
“Shut the fuck up, Wanda. I’m a damn vampire. Period. I’ve got all I can handle playing that part. Now, get the fuck out of my house before I drop your lame asses in this hole in my fucking living room and dump cement over the top of you two. I’ll stay here with Sam and the hobbit in case she wakes up.”
Marty kissed Nina on the cheek, making the vampire swat at her. “I know we can count on you to be sensitive and caring when Nova arises.”
Sam barked a sharp laugh from the kitchen. “Don’t worry, ladies. I know this score. Man, do I know it. I’ll handle the nice part of things if she wakes up while you’re gone. I got you guys covered!” he yelled from the dining room table, making everyone laugh.
As they all headed out, Murphy gave a lightly snoring Nova one last glance and tucked the blanket around her shoulders, her heart clenching. They’d been incredibly lucky to find this tight-knit group of women. She hoped Nova realized that.
Wanda patted Murphy on the back and smiled. “You ready, honey?”
Ready was subjective. Was she ready to move forward and take this curse off Nova?
Yes.
Was she ready to live the troll life?
Again, ready was subjective.
Chapter 12
“What a lovely home you have, Bellamy,” Marty cooed as she looked out at the stunning view of Manhattan.
Daylight was fading fast at four in the afternoon in the winter setting, leaving all of the island with a beautiful purple and blue bruised sky and twinkling lights dotting the horizon.
And indeed, the apartment was lovely. Oddly, it was also very similar to Nova’s. Bellamy lived in a penthouse, as well, a glitzy, shiny penthouse in silver and white, with small touches of blush pink for pops of color.
Nova’s apartment was white and gold with pops of baby blue. They both had big puffy white furniture with loads of throw pillows in marabou fur, candles everywhere, and lots of watercolor prints hanging on the walls to match their deco.
In fact, they were far more alike in terms of their choices in decorating than Murphy would have ever suspected.
“It really is gorgeous,” Wanda murmured as she wandered through the living room into the kitchen. “I love your dining room table.
” She turned to her friend. “Marty, look at it. Isn’t it exquisite?”
It truly was. A long rectangle made from a type of wood Murphy couldn’t identify, and stained gray, with varying heights of vanilla-colored candles in chunky candle holders sprawled over the middle of the surface, completing the gorgeous setting.
Bellamy scooped up a fluffy gray cat who’d wound its tail around her ankles, begging for attention, her smile wry as she gazed at the table.
“Funny, I have this amazing table that can easily seat eight, and it’s never been used. Not once. But the view of Manhattan is beautiful, isn’t it?”
Her words hurt Murphy’s heart because they sounded so sad. Why wasn’t she having dinner parties and inviting her family over to share meals?
For that matter, why wasn’t Nova entertaining? She had a beautiful dining room table, too, and it seated at least ten.
But then Murphy realized that for all the online adulation they received, for all the people who loved these women, they weren’t physical friendships.
They had no real friends. They had people who liked to bask in their spotlight, but were they the kind of people you could call at one in the morning when your world was falling apart?
Nova didn’t have any close girlfriends. She had sycophants. She had people who liked the places her money and fame could gain them access.
And that made Murphy pause and think about her own life. She didn’t have any friends, either. Not anymore. She’d had them once. In high school, in college, but everything had centered around Nova for so long, she’d forgotten what it was like to hang out, go have a glass of wine, catch a movie.
She was as guilty of isolating herself with Nova as anyone.
Phew, when Nina said she’d find things out about herself during this transitional journey, she’d been right. It had been revelation after revelation these last twenty-four hours.
As the women and Bellamy chatted, Murphy found herself drawn to the small nook by the long stretch of windows, where a host of pictures in silver and white frames sat on a shiny silver buffet with crystal pulls.
Bellamy’s cat jumped up on the buffet, its gorgeous yellow eyes following her intently. She reached out a hand to stroke the feline’s soft gray fur…and was greeted with an odd vibration.
Murphy almost snatched her hand away in surprise, but the cat stared at her with such a pensive gaze, almost willing her to stroke its back, she let the strange occurrence happen again before the cat jumped off the buffet and wandered off to another part of Bellamy’s apartment.
Rubbing her hand to ease the weird sensation, Murphy returned her attention to the décor on the buffet.
There were a bunch of pictures of Bellamy, but the ones that interested Murphy the most were the pictures of Sten, apparently in his human form.
How fair was it that he wasn’t just good-looking as a troll, but equally good-looking in his human state?
One picture in particular—of him standing next to a colorful surfboard, his tanned chest and arms glistening in the sun, his hair, a med-brown, slicked back from the salty water while waves crashed behind him—really caught her eye.
Because well, he was a treat for the eyes. He made her stomach feel light as air and her heart thump erratically.
“Murphy, you okay?” he asked in his whiskey-tinged tone.
“You surf?”
He came to stand beside her, making her feel overpowered by his big frame. Overpowered but oddly comfortable. He picked up the picture and smiled.
“I do. I love it. I’ve ridden all sorts of waves all over the world. Another one of my hobbies.”
“A whittling, surfing troll. You are a mystery, aren’t you, Sten Peerson?”
He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Not so mysterious. Maybe I’m more of a dichotomy. However, that was my life before becoming king. Now it’s a bit more complicated. Less time for small pleasures, more time trying to make rules and hand down edicts and keep the peace. But mostly I’m an open book. So you can ask me whatever you’d like.”
Before becoming king. Those words resonated with her. She couldn’t even imagine the responsibility that incurred.
“I thought you were mostly happy people?”
“Oh, we are, but we still have skirmishes, disagreements. Try having those when it involves the entire population of Troll Hill,” he said on a fond chuckle.
“So you inherited the job title. Were you groomed for it? I mean, did you know you’d one day rule all the trolls of the land?”
His smile had a hint of irony. “Well, we’re supposed to live forever, so I didn’t plan on the title becoming mine, that’s for sure. But we’re also not infallible, either, and my father proved that. He enjoyed a good adrenaline rush. Unfortunately, it was the reason for his demise.”
Sten’s answer made her curious. She wanted to ask what happened to his father, but it felt wrong to pry into the life of a man she’d only known for a day.
Instead, she offered condolences. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Sten,” she said. “I didn’t mean to bring up something still so fresh.”
“No worries. Technically, he was your king, too. It’s only fair you know the history of Troll Hill and its lineage. You’ll hear about him through the grapevine anyway. Magnus Peerson was a charismatic daredevil who loved life and tried to take too big a bite, one too many times. He died on his way up some mountain or another. Tripped, hit his head, and it was over. But he certainly lived while he was still of this plane. Loud and proud and not without creating havoc and heartache. In other words, he lived a little too loudly sometimes.”
Pulling off her knit cap, Murphy tucked it into her jacket. “So your mother remarried?”
His smile was fond. “Yeah, though that was well before Magnus died. My father was a bit of a skirt chaser in his day, if you’re wondering why they divorced.” Then he laughed softly. “Who am I kidding? He was still chasing skirts right up until the day he died. In fact, that’s the joke around Troll Hill. He was probably chasing some beautiful woman up the mountainside.”
“So your parents have been divorced for a long time then?”
He picked up another picture of a woman who looked exactly like Bellamy. “They have, and I’m glad to say my mother’s remarriage is a very happy one, because my father wasn’t the best husband, and some would even say, not the best father. He didn’t just skip out on my mother with his affairs, he skipped out on me, too. But I understood who he was. I understood the person, and I guess because I never wanted to change him, we got along just fine.”
What an oddly unique take on someone who, by society’s rules, deserved nothing but his son’s scorn for skipping out on him and his mother. Magnus was lucky Sten didn’t hold any grudges. Rarely did the offspring of someone negligent get off so scot-free.
“So you’re not angry he wasn’t around?” she asked, puzzled by his outlook.
Sten smiled and shook his head. “Nah. It would take up too much of my energy and not enough time leftover to enjoy life. Sure, he disappointed me sometimes, but being angry with him wouldn’t have changed who he was. Besides, I had Jannick, my stepfather. I love my stepfather. He’s a great guy, he was good to me, and he’s good to my mother. Anyway, they had Bellamy, the apple of their eye. And she damn well knows she is and uses it to her advantage at every turn.”
Murphy laughed. It had been the same with Nova. Her parents had adored her. Not that they hadn’t loved Murphy just as much, but Nova needed them more than Murphy had.
“So you inherited the title by default. That sort of makes you the accidental king. That’s got to be tough.”
He looked out over the skyline, his face somber. “Maybe a little. My father favored chaos over order, and I’m the exact opposite. I need structure and peace. So imagine a kingdom that’s been freeballin’ it for hundreds of years, and then bring in the stodgy son of a let-the-good-times-roll dead king, who has the audacity to want four-way stops and curfews on pubs for the good of the community.�
�
Her mouth fell open again and she blinked. “You have pubs in Troll Hill?”
Sten leaned over and put the frame back on the buffet and nodded with a smile. “We have lots of pubs, and lots of unruly trolls to go with them.”
Giggling, she put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I guess I just never imagined this realm thing was so similar to here.”
“In more ways than one. But it does have things you don’t.”
“Like?”
“When the time comes, I’ll show you,” he teased.
Gosh, he smelled so stinkin’ good, she had to divert her thoughts back to the picture. “So this is your human form, I’m guessing?”
“That it is. Not so different from what I look like now, minus the Halloween hair and orange eyes.”
Murphy barked a laugh. “So, troll question?”
“No. I don’t like bingo.”
She snickered. “That’s unfortunate. I play a mean game of bingo. We could have really had something, but you blew it, Peerson.”
He snapped his fingers. “Damn. I hate when I blow it with a beautiful woman. Can I take it back?”
She fought a blush. “’Fraid not. It would always be there between us, lingering just under the surface like some resentful boil, waiting to resurface, and when it did, it would blow up in our faces. We’re a no-go, buddy.”
He made a pouty face and mock sighed, his big chest rising and falling against his black T-shirt. “I’ll find a way to go on. Somehow…”
She smiled at him. “You’re a real trooper. Now, back to my question. Why isn’t your skin a bizarre color like mine?”
His smile was warm. “Because the females of our species are prettier. You know, like a male hummingbird is the one with all the color on his throat? It’s the opposite with trolls. Female trolls are far more beautiful than us very uninteresting males.”
“Interesting.”
“Sooo,” he drawled. “What about you? What do you like to do in your spare time?”
Murphy snorted and picked up a picture of Sten and Bellamy at some black-tie event, both beautifully dressed and sharing their perfect genes with the world by way of a smile.
The Accidental Troll Page 11
