Moonlight and Midtown

by Christina Bauer

  “On my mark,” says the manager. “Pound her into the ground.” She raises her fist, and the hundreds of fae lower their arms. The silver dust that was spinning about their arms breaks loose, taking the form of a massive arrow.

  After that, it comes barreling right for me and Elle.

  My bestie and I share a quick look before shouting the same word at the same time.

  “Crap!”

  Turning around, Elle and I make for the small red exit. We just get through and slam it shut behind us when the magic smashes into the closed door.

  I exhale. That was close.

  Elle and I have emerged into a snug alley. Some yards away, the foot traffic of Canal Street marches by.

  Elle leans against the building’s outer brick wall. “That was close.”

  I shake my head. “Didn’t they promise not to hurt us?”

  Elle rolls her eyes. “The sheep-fae who run the store didn’t attack us. It was the customers. They made no such vow.”

  The hair on my neck stands on end. Once again, I have the horrible sensation of being watched. And in a Christmas sweater dress no less. From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimmer from Canal Street. It looks surprisingly like a camera.

  Anger tightens through my limbs. I’ve had it with being followed. Whoever this is, I want to face them, once and for all.

  “I’m going to catch them this time,” I call to Elle.

  “Catch who?”

  “My stalkers. Watch this.”

  The shine of the camera came from where the alley meets the street. I rush off in that direction, stopping when I reach the sidewalk. I grip the brick wall so hard, I’m pretty sure I chip a few nails.

  Humans stream by, but none seem to notice me. And certainly no one has a camera. I shake my head. All this stress is making me lose it.

  Elle steps up behind me. “You know what? Your wolf actually did pretty well. You didn’t shift or anything.”

  Lately, my insides always seem coiled with worry. At Elle’s words, some of that anxiety loosens. “That’s true. I couldn’t grab on to my fae power, but it was definitely an improvement.”

  “Besides, who wants to wear a muumuu?”

  I stick out my tongue. “It was neon yellow, too.”

  Elle leans against the alley wall opposite mine. “So, what do you want to do?”

  Now, I know my friend well enough to know what she’s saying. Do I want to keep going or give up? Elle wouldn’t judge me if I wanted to call it a day. I stare into the flow of humans along the sidewalk. Something deep inside my soul snaps. I’m done running away or hiding. What I want is something to wear as my badass werewolf self, so that’s what I’m going to do. Maybe I should be all who cares if people see me naked, but guess what? I do care. And I’m going to do something about it. For me.

  Only question left is: what do I want to do?

  Folding my arms over my chest, I consider my options. In the end, there really is only one thing I can do. It’s not pleasant, but I’m not giving up now.

  “I’m not done shopping.” I shoot Elle a sly grin. “Can you guess where we’re going next?”

  Elle meets my grin with one of her own. “Nyxa’s Boudoir.”

  “Right on. Who cares if she’s crazy? All the fae are nuts. At least, Nyxa’s not a sheep.”

  Elle rushes out to the curb and yells a single word. “Taxi!”

  Soon, my best friend and I are sliding into a yellow cab.

  “Excelsior Club,” says Elle.

  As we tool across Manhattan, I check in on my wolf. Now that we’re away from delicious-smelling sheep, she’s calmer now. Although considering how we’re going to Nyxa’s Boudoir? Maybe things are about to get wild once more.

  Chapter Nine

  Our cab pulls up to a towering building on East 44th Street. The façade is all gray marble, bay windows, and inset metal crests. A bronze front stands dead center of the first floor. A tall doorman stands under the small red awning. A sign by the door reads “Excelsior Club. Members Only.”

  I lean until my nose presses against the cab’s window glass. “Is this the place? It’s mighty fancy.”

  “Wait until you see inside,” says Elle. “Nyxa spares no expense on her boudoir.”

  My wolf perks up inside me. “Will there be more sheep?”

  “Nope, not a single one,” I reply in my mind. In all truth, I have no idea if any of those sheep-fae would hang out with Nyxa. That said, my wolf is salivating at just the mention of sheep. I’m not going to encourage this line of thinking.

  I scooch over on the cab seat, push open the door, and step out onto the wide sidewalk. Elle marches past me, stopping when she’s toe to toe with the doorman.

  “We’re here for Nyxa’s Boudoir,” announces Elle.

  Inside my soul, I try grasping on to my fae powers. Like always, they slip past my hold. Oh, well. Hopefully I’m working enough of a fairy vibe to fake my way into this store.

  In reply, the doorman shakes his head from side to side. The motion is incredibly stiff, even for this part of town. He doesn’t talk either, which is borderline rude.

  Elle leans over so she talks right into the space between the doorman’s pecs. “Hey, I’m fae. Let us in to Nyxa’s already.”

  With more stiff movements, the doorman opens the chest-level buttons on his coat. Under the fabric, there’s what looks like a tree trunk. A face is magically carved into the bark.

  And then, the face speaks.

  “It depends,” says the doorman.

  My mouth falls opens. This guy is a fairy who’s made of wood. I didn’t see that coming. No wonder his head movements were so stiff. That’s not a head.

  Inside my soul, my wolf takes an interest again. “Is that a chew toy?” she asks. Evidently, she now thinks all fae may be some kind of treat for her.

  “Definitely not. Stay out of the way until we’re away from the fairies.”

  “Why?”

  “Colonel Mallory, remember?”

  “Grr.” That means my wolf remembers; she just doesn’t want to talk about the fae who cursed her. Can’t blame her for that. At least, my inner animal seems calm enough. For now, anyway.

  Meanwhile, Elle straightens and pretends to find her manicure fascinating. “Depends on what?”

  “What can you pay to get in?” asks the doorman.

  Some tension loosens from my shoulders. We went through this before with the hairy guardian outside Ba Ba Bargains. Last time, Elle pawned a Hello Kitty locket on the guy. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next.

  Elle raises her pointer finger. “First, I set the terms.”

  The doorman’s wooden head—which is just for show—keeps watching the street. “Go on.”

  “We want safe passage to the store,” says Elle. “And that means we don’t want to be tortured or killed while shopping.”

  “Or afterwards,” I add.

  “Oh, that’s good.” Elle gives me a thumbs-up before facing the doorman again. “You heard her. Plus, we want to be able to purchase something of our choosing for a fair price.”

  “No tricks,” says the doorman. “If you want in, I need something truly valuable.” The way he says truly valuable, it’s clear what he wants. Not something that costs money. More something that hurts Elle to the core to give up. The fae really are a twisted bunch.

  “Not a problem.” Elle reaches into her jean pocket and pulls out a small locket. “We’ll pay for our entry with this.”

  My eyes widen. This is no Hello Kitty locket. This time, it’s the real item. It’s a platinum circle that’s inset with a diamond star.

  I try to shove Elle’s arm down. “You can’t give that away.”

  Elle turns, grips my shoulders, and meets my gaze straight on. I’ve seen this combination before--shoulder grips plus a steady stare means that Elle is about to say something she won’t ever back down from.

  “I know you, Bry. If you’re not comfortable, you won’t stay at West Lake. This keep
s us together. It’s important.” She hands over the locket before I can stop her. With wooden movements, the doorman slips it into his pocket.

  My hand touches to my throat. I know Elle is my best friend, but I’ve never felt our bond more than I have in this moment.

  That said, there is no way I’m letting her give up the last thing she has from her birth mother.

  “Get it back,” growls my wolf inside me.

  “On it.”

  As we walk into the store, I bump into the doorman. The big wooden guy totters a little bit, and that’s just the chance I need. As I pretend to right him again, I lift the locket from his jacket. I chuck his chin—which means rubbing my knuckles on the spot below his pecs—and head inside the Excelsior Club. It’s very important when you’re picking someone’s pocket to make sure their touch focus is somewhere else.

  I grip the locket more tightly and fight the urge to cheer. I did it!

  Following Elle inside, I find the front door opens onto a little waiting room. It reminds me of the room before we got into Ba Ba Bargains, only this one is elaborate with its carved walls, velvet tapestries, and checkerboard marble floor. There’s a large golden door on the other side of the room with elaborate loopy writing on it.

  “Nyxa’s Boudoir.”

  Elle sighs and stares at the lettering. “At least they aren’t under new management.” She seems so deflated and not-Elle, I can’t wait to tell her the good news.

  Gripping Elle’s hand, I set the locket back onto her palm. “I believe this belongs to you.”

  She beams. “Bry, you’re the best!”

  “What can I say? I’ve picked up a few things over the years of hanging out with you.”

  “Picking the doorman’s pocket.” Elle sets the locket around her neck, making sure the diamond-encrusted locket is under her T-shirt. “Dang, I wish I’d thought of that.”

  “So far, it’s Team Bry-Elle: 1, Team Nyxa: 0.” I grip the golden handle. “How about we go rack up some more points?”

  “Let’s.”

  I yank open the door. A billow of smoke rolls out onto the marble floor. Elle and I step inside a darkened room. Nyxa’s Boudoir. The place is a lot of silver velvet curtains and wooden furniture painted in various shades of platinum. A dozen fairies lounge around on oversized pillows. At least they are all human-ish in shape, even if they are in shades of red, yellow, and green. Small tables dot the carpeted floor, all of them overflowing with different-colored ladies’ undies.

  “No sheep,” says my wolf inside my soul.

  “That’s right,” I confirm.

  One tall pink fairy saunters toward us. She wears a snug evening gown that’s cut to highlight her slim figure and long silver wings. “Welcome to Nyxa’s. I’m Blythe. How may I help you?”

  All of a sudden, my Christmas sweater outfit and frizzed-out hair seem especially awful. Blythe is so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her. My mouth starts moving on its own. “I’m looking for an enchanted outfit that won’t shred if you change into a werewolf. Not for me. For a friend.”

  “It’s a gift,” adds Elle.

  “I see,” says Blythe. A glimmer of silver light encircles her raised right arm. Magic. Blythe’s fae power shines brightly for a moment and then disappears. A pile of fabric now covers her arm. “You mean like this?” She lifts a series of clothing. “We have black leather pants, some black knee-high boots, and a cropped tank. Oh, there’s also a long black duster coat. It’s all self cleaning, once every twenty-four hours.”

  My heart leaps into my throat. “Yes, that’s perfect. What’s the price?”

  Blythe narrows her silver-green eyes. “A finger.”

  “How about this?” Elle raises her middle finger. “We pay you in fairy dust.”

  “Really?” Blythe’s perfect eyebrows flicker upward. With magic disappearing from the world, fairy dust is at a premium. Blythe taps her lips with her long pink fingers. “How much?”

  “Enough to fill a human tablespoon.”

  I happen to know Elle can sneeze and make that much fairy dust. She really is powerful. Before, Elle didn’t tell me anything about her powers for fear her evil stepfamily would find her. Now, she’s sharing more and more. I still worry every time she says anything. It’s like her evil family will burst through the window at any second. Even so, Elle says it’s her choice and I respect that.

  “A human teaspoon,” says Blythe breathlessly. “Agreed.”

  I bob on the balls of my feet. At this point, I could cheer, I’m so happy.

  Blythe is about to hand over the pile of clothes when a column of silver dust appears in the center of the room. More magic. A sliver of unease worms its way through my soul.

  Inside me, my wolf goes right on alert. “Danger is coming,” she growls.

  “Agreed.”

  The silver fairy dust disappears. In its place, there stands Queen Nyxa. She looks as she did the last time I saw her: seven feet tall with orange skin and moss-green hair. Her crown, eyes, and floor-length gown are all pale blue. She looks at me and gasps. “You.”

  I give her a little wave. “Me.”

  Nyxa lifts her chin. “Are you here to request your boon?”

  Now, the true answer goes something like this: I am not crazy enough to chase you down for anything, let alone a boon. Because you are a sadistic nutjob who will twist the whole thing around and find some way to kill me. But I do value my life, so I say something else instead.

  “You owe me a boon?” I ask sweetly. I must do a good job of acting all innocent, because Elle shoots me a wink.

  “You’re here to force me into giving my boon.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose. This is precisely why I didn’t approach Nyxa to ask for my boon in the first place. I knew that she’d do something just like this—say I’m forcing her into something—and then turn on the pain.

  I force a smile. “No, the only reason I’m here is that I want to buy this outfit. It’s my—”

  Nyxa snaps her fingers. Silver fairy dust encircles both me and Elle. Fresh magic. I turn toward my friend, grasping through the heavy silver haze. “Elle, are you—”

  Before I can finish my sentence, the magical haze disappears. A silver rope now encircles my head, the cord tied so tightly between my lips, I can barely breathe, let alone speak. The only sounds I make are muffled grumbles. Elle lies curled by my feet, trapped in an enchanted sleep.

  My wolf loses her mind. “We’re trapped by fairies! Run!”

  “Stay calm,” I coach her. “The fae only hurt you worse if you run. We should know; we’re predators, too.” My animal stills inside my soul, but I can tell it’s the kind of shivering quiet that she usually reserves for thunderstorms.

  Nyxa walks a slow circle around me. “Do you want your boon? Such a shame you need to say the words through that awful muzzle.”

  I scan the room. A dozen fairies and Nyxa. I’ve had some battle training, but never against more than one or two opponents at a time. Nyxa grips my chin, forcing me to look at her. She lifts her hand. Fresh fairy dust hovers above her palm. Nyxa blows it in my direction. “Boo.”

  I check my limbs for fresh ropes, but there’s nothing different in my bindings. That’s strange. It doesn’t seem like Nyxa to send magic in my direction without meaning to do harm. Before I can think things through a little more, Nyxa starts speaking again.

  “Your aunties were right about you,” she says through a sneer. “Too weak to fight.”

  Now, Nyxa may not know it, but those are the perfect words for me in this moment. Nothing makes me come out fighting harder than when my rebel-reflex kicks in.

  Tell me I can’t fight?

  Just watch.

  I reach into my soul, calling out to my wolf. “Let’s shift and take down anyone we can.”

  There is no reply. I check my soul, finding that my wolf has been knocked out with the same enchanted sleep as Elle. That’s what Nyxa did with the latest round of fairy dust. Not helpful.

&
nbsp; Nyxa grips my chin even more tightly. “I heard how you went wolf and killed poor Jules. He was rather clever for a zombie. Such a shame you wouldn’t marry him like your aunties wanted.” Her eyes flare with an evil blue light. “Maybe I’ll ask them here to witness your death.” She turns to the other fae. “What do you say?”

  They do a golfer’s clap from their comfy cushions.

  “Wonderful idea, Your Majesty.”

  “Make her pay.”

  Suddenly, the door from the reception room bursts open. A pair of wolves leaps into the room. One is colored in shades of gold; the other has scraggly black fur.

  Oh, no.

  I recognize their scents instantly. This is Hollywood and Abe. And the way they pace around me and growl at Nyxa? It’s clear that they’re here to help me and Elle escape.

  Nyxa turns to me. “Who is this?”

  I try to talk through my gag, but that’s not happening.

  “Oh, that’s right. You can’t speak.” Nyxa raises her arm. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” More fairy dust encircles the two wolves. When the magic disappears, there stand a very naked Abe and Hollywood. They both grab handfuls of ladies undies to cover their private parts.

  “Who are you?” asks Nyxa.

  “We’re Knox’s pack,” says Hollywood. He tosses his head of perfectly coiffed blond locks. “He’s our Alpha.”

  “Only, he hasn’t accepted that yet,” says Abe. “But we’re trying to prove ourselves.”

  Hollywood rolls his eyes. “Abe, you don’t have to be honest about everything.”

  Abe keeps right on talking. “Did Knox say anything about what happened at Lucky’s? We were there to help protect you, Your Majesty. Was he impressed? You’re clearly our queen, so we appointed ourselves knights in your court.”

  A sly smile rounds Nyxa’s mouth. “Wolves have courts?”

  “Oh, Hollywood made that part up.” Abe grins. “He’s going to be Knox’s beta, and he’s really smart.” He turns to me and lifts his chin. “So we’re your knights.”

  Surprisingly enough, it’s really cool to find out that you have knights, even if they made up the title themselves and tell you about it while naked and covering their junk with bras. It’s the thought that counts, really.