Creative Matchmaker (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 6)

by Sarah Noffke

  “Clearing us out of the college and FGA might not help,” Mae Ling pointed out. “That might be what Agent Ruby wants and will put fairies in even more danger. We don’t know what we’re facing. There’s nowhere for us to go that’s safe.”

  “If you stay here, the demon will leech you, and the love meter will further plummet,” Paris argued, livid that the fairies were accepting this. This was one of their shortcomings. They didn’t react well when faced with danger. They didn’t have the same self-preservation as magicians in that regard.

  “The only solution is to get rid of the demons,” Willow said slowly, the effort of talking seeming to cost her greatly.

  “Well, to do that, my father needs to get in here and FGA,” Paris stated.

  “Again, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” Willow replied. “The magic it would cost me to invite Stefan here, and FGA and Matters of the Heart is simply too much.”

  “Then you leave here, restore your magic, and give him the invitation,” Paris offered, desperately trying to find a solution.

  “I’m afraid that by that time, it would be too late,” Willow stated. “I can’t leave the college. I will make an announcement to the students and staff and send a message to FGA. If any want to return to their homes, they can, although Mae Ling is right and that might be a part of the trap. Outside the college, there aren’t the same protections as here.”

  “The protections aren’t working.” Paris vibrated with anger. “Agent Ruby has obviously figured out a way around them.”

  “Which is why I fear that we don’t have any safe options,” Mae Ling said, not sounding like her usual confident self.

  “My father!” Paris exclaimed, now really mad. “He’s your option. He needs an invitation!”

  “There is a fairy who can grant him one here and FGA and Matters of the Heart,” Willow began. “The two are located in the same building but the security to get into Matters of the Heart is different. This fairy, she would be the only one to get him into all three, as I can’t grant invitations to anywhere but the college.”

  “Good! Great!” Paris said in a rush. “Where is this fairy? She’s not here or at FGA being leeched, is she?”

  Willow slowly shook her head, making Paris crazy with impatience. “No, Tiffer doesn’t reside at any of the main locations. She has always remained off the grid.”

  “Where? Where can I find this Tiffer?” Paris questioned quickly, wanting to snap her fingers.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know,” Willow replied as if talking through a mouthful of molasses.

  Paris’ eyes bulged. “Are you serious?”

  “Tiffer is one of the most powerful fairies, which is why she can grant you an invitation to all three locations,” Mae Ling explained. “But in being so powerful, she prefers not to be easily found.”

  “Where do I look?” Paris questioned.

  “I would recommend asking the person who supposedly saw her last,” Willow answered.

  “And that is?” Hemingway grew as impatient as Paris with this conversation.

  “According to my memory, the last time someone saw Tiffer, she was dining with a man at a very prominent restaurant in Las Vegas.” Mae Ling scratched her head, trying to think of the name.

  “Vegas, man, great. Who is it?” Paris snapped her fingers.

  “It was none other than the king of the fae,” Willow answered. “That’s why it made so much news. But finding him to ask about Tiffer’s whereabouts might be difficult.”

  Paris rolled her eyes, realizing she should have seen this coming. “King Rudolf Sweetwater?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Willow affirmed.

  Paris smiled, finally feeling on the verge of making progress. “Yeah, finding Uncle Ru won’t be hard. The difficult part will be getting him to focus long enough to give me a straight answer.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  A little reluctantly, Hemingway agreed to leave the college, but only because he was with Paris. She knew it was difficult for him to see the fairies so depleted, but he was in more danger than them.

  The demons would continue to leech the fairies, slowly stealing their magic and making them depressed. According to her father, when Paris phoned him with an update, the demons would leech the fairies, stealing their energy and emotions. It wouldn’t want to kill them, stealing all their reserves, because then it would have nothing left to leech.

  That meant the fairies would trudge along at the college like sad zombies, hardly able to accomplish much. Thankfully, Wilfred as a magitech AI was unaffected by the demons and had taken over cooking from Chef Ash. All the fairies had to do was feed themselves, and they would survive. However, seeing them zapped was heartbreaking, and Paris desperately wanted to help them to recover. She had to find Uncle Rudolf, track down Tiffer, get an invitation for her father and allow him to do what he did best and kill some demons.

  Easy, peasy, Paris thought as she and Hemingway stepped through a portal to Roya Lane, leaving Happily Ever After College behind.

  “Our apartment is right up here.” Paris pointed at a narrow staircase between two buildings.

  “Are you sure it’s okay if I stay in your uncle’s and your place?” Hemingway looked around at all the curious sights on Roya Lane.

  She nodded adamantly. “He’s not there and can’t be on Roya Lane anymore. And I’m obviously not going to be there.”

  “It can’t be safe for you to be at the college,” he argued as they marched up the stairs.

  A wave of nostalgia washed over Paris as she neared the modest apartment where she’d grown up most of her life with Uncle John. “I’m the only one besides Wilfred who is safe there.”

  “You’re part magician,” Hemingway countered.

  “Who has demon blood. They can’t turn me because technically, I’m already one of them. That blood, according to my father, keeps the demons from being able to leech me. It confuses them for sure. They don’t know what I am.”

  Hemingway chuckled. “I think most of us aren’t sure exactly what you are.”

  “Ha-ha.” Paris pushed the door to the apartment open. It was exactly as she remembered it with minimal furniture and lots of books. She pointed toward the back rooms. “There’s my bedroom on the right and Uncle John’s on the left. Take your pick.”

  “I’ll probably sleep on the sofa.” Hemingway glanced at the lumpy couch against the wall.

  “Don’t be silly. Make yourself at home. You’ll be safe on Roya Lane. Just don’t let any fae do any favors for you or you’ll owe them a hundred years of servitude. Don’t even ask them for directions. And don’t gamble with the gnomes. You’ll always lose. Oh, and stay away from the giants late at night. They’re almost always drunk then.”

  “I think I’ll stay inside and read.” He indicated the bookshelves filled with dusty volumes.

  “Well, you’re going to need to eat at some point.” She pointed at a coffee can sitting on top of the bookshelf. “There should be some money in there, enough to cover your meals anyway.”

  “That’s okay, but thanks.”

  Paris lowered her chin and regarded him with hooded eyes. “Stop being so stubborn, would you? This is to keep you comfortable and oh, from being turned into a demon.”

  “I know. I just don’t want to take your money. You’re already doing enough for me.”

  “It’s not money that anyone will be using,” Paris argued. “And there’s probably no food in the pantry.”

  “I don’t feel right taking your money.”

  “Well, my family is loaded on both sides, my aunt lives in a mansion in Beverly Hills, and Uncle John only ever had us live simply because that’s his style. Apparently, his electronic repair store is worth a fortune.”

  Hemingway chewed on his lip and nodded. “Okay, then. Fine. Thanks for all this. I’ll find a way to repay you.”

  “Stay safe,” Paris stated. “Not worrying about you is how you’re repaying me.”

  He smiled softly
at her. “Well, you’re the one who needs to stay safe. You might be okay from the demons, but Agent Ruby is still out there, and he’s dangerous.”

  Paris flashed a victorious smile. “Agent Ruby is going down, once and for all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Paris hadn’t been on Roya Lane for more than a few seconds when a black and white cat appeared next to her.

  “I bet you scare a lot of people, randomly popping up out of the middle of nowhere,” she said matter-of-factly, looking down at the magical lynx.

  “It might surprise you to know that I don’t randomly pop up next to most people,” Plato replied. “But I do enjoy surprising Liv when she’s picking her nose.”

  “How very charming of you.”

  “I like to think so.” Plato strode beside Paris as she headed for Heals Pills, where she assumed she could find King Rudolf. Most didn’t notice the cat, probably because he was using a selective disguising spell that allowed Paris to see him but not others.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” she asked him. “Or did you happen to run into me by accident?”

  “I never do anything by accident.”

  “Oh, then why are you here? Do you know how to find this fairy named Tiffer? Or do you have a way to get my father into fairy godmother places? I assume you already know what’s going on because that’s your style.”

  “I can’t help you find Tiffer or get an invitation for Stefan,” Plato said. “I am here to help you with something.”

  “Thanks. What’s that?”

  He gave her a sly look and didn’t say a word.

  “You’re not going to tell me what you’re helping me with, are you?” she asked.

  “You catch on fairly quickly.”

  “Fine, you can surprise me.” Paris pushed the door to Heals Pills open, grateful to see King Rudolf in the shop. Hopefully, this would be fast, and she could locate this Tiffer quickly.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “This is going to take forever,” Ramy groaned as Paris and Plato made their way into the shop. She strode over to the counter where boxes surrounded King Rudolf and Ramy. Plato took a seat by the entrance.

  “Oh, I knew I’d be getting a visit from you,” King Rudolf said to her, smiling wide.

  “You did?” Paris questioned, surprised. “So do you know why I’m here?”

  “Yes, but unfortunately I can’t help you,” he replied somberly.

  “You can’t?” she muttered, disappointed immediately. “You don’t know where Tiffer is then?”

  “Tiffer?” Rudolf questioned. “That quack of a fairy? Oh, of course, I know where she is. I’m probably the only one who knows where to find her. I was saying that I can’t help you with that other thing.”

  Relief flooded Paris’ chest, but she was still confused. She looked sideways at the fae. “What other thing?”

  “That one where we off Stefan,” King Rudolf answered. “By now you’ve had an opportunity to get to know him and realize that he’s the worst person in the world. I’m grateful that you didn’t get any of his genes.”

  “I inherited his demon blood,” Paris stated. “I’m fairly certain I got half his DNA.”

  “I don’t think that’s how it works,” Rudolf argued. “My wife Serena is always saying that our girls, the Captains, got all her beauty and none of my brains.”

  Paris wanted to point out that he didn’t have any brains so maybe they did get them from him, but she decided against it.

  “Hey Boss,” Ramy said, bouncing beside King Rudolf and waving a clipboard. “We need to get back to doing inventory, or we’ll be here all night.”

  “How much more do I need to pay you to make this not my responsibility?” King Rudolf asked him.

  “Oh no.” Ramy shook his head. “I’ve had to do inventory for Heals Pills on my own for fifteen years because you couldn’t visit Roya Lane.”

  “Because that would have compromised Paris’ safety.” King Rudolf indicated her.

  Ramy stuck his hands on his hips. “Well, you’re helping me this year.”

  “Yeah, fine.” King Rudolf sighed, catching sight of Plato sitting quietly in the corner of the shop. “What’s the lynx doing here?”

  Paris glanced over her shoulder at Plato and shrugged. “I don’t know. He says he’s helping.”

  King Rudolf shook his head. “He rarely does. What do you want, troublemaker?”

  “You have to get that cat out of here,” Ramy said, backing up. “I’m deathly allergic to cat hair.”

  “You can’t die,” Paris argued.

  “Easily,” Ramy corrected, backing up more as Plato stretched to a standing position and strode in their direction.

  “I need your help, Uncle Rudolf,” Paris began. “You know where to find Tiffer? Can you tell me?”

  King Rudolf shook his head. “Unfortunately, I can’t.”

  She deflated, wondering how many obstacles would be in her path this time.

  The fae stuck a victorious finger into the air. “I can show you.”

  “No, you don’t!” Ramy complained. “You’re staying here and helping me do inventory.”

  “We’ll do it tomorrow,” King Rudolf stated.

  Ramy shook his head. “No, you’ve been saying that for months. It makes my job easier if we get it done. I’m not putting this off one minute longer.”

  “Is it possible that you can tell me where to find Tiffer?” Paris questioned. “Maybe give me detailed instructions?”

  “I don’t think so,” King Rudolf answered. “For one, it’s devilishly complicated, even for someone as brilliant as myself to figure out. Usually, it requires two people to play the game.”

  “Game?” Paris wondered if she heard him right.

  He nodded. “Most don’t know they’re playing it, which is why you’ll need my expertise. Also, even if you win and get off the train at the right place, that doesn’t mean that Tiffer will help you. She’s very selective about who she’ll work with, but she adores me.”

  “Did you say train?” Paris asked. “If it’s as easy as taking a train to see her, I can do that. Just tell me how to win the game and where to take the train to.”

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way,” Rudolf imparted with pursed lips. “I don’t know what the game will be like. No, the only way for you to get to Tiffer is if I accompany you. Maybe we can go tomorrow after the inventory is complete, and Ramy has sucked out my will to live.”

  “That sounds good,” Ramy cheered.

  Paris shook her head. “This can’t wait. The fairy godmothers are in trouble. Demons are leeching them.”

  “That does sound serious,” Rudolf stated, turning to Ramy. “What do you say? Can we do this tomorrow?”

  “No!” Ramy exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “Fifteen years I’ve had to do this on my own. You keep telling me you’ll help me, then you disappear. I want your help, and I want it now!”

  Rudolf nodded, giving Paris a consoling expression. “Sorry, my sweet niece. Meeting Tiffer will have to wait.”

  Paris hung her head, wishing there was something she could do to convince Ramy to budge on this. However, he seemed adamant. With her eyes directed at the floor, she noticed that Plato had moved and was right next to Ramy’s legs, which were bare since he was wearing cargo shorts. The lynx winked at her before sliding up against Ramy, rubbing his cat fur over his skin.

  “Oh, that feels nice,” Ramy said, smiling…then worry jumped to his face as he realized what the soft thing brushing against his leg was. He looked down with horror on his face. “No, kitty. No!”

  Paris expected Ramy to start itching or sneezing, but instead, he shook all over and toppled over at once, landing on his back—the quickest allergic reaction she’d ever witnessed. Having done his job, Plato disappeared, leaving Paris and King Rudolf looking at the dead body before them.

  Casually, Rudolf glanced back at Paris and smiled. “Well, since he’ll be out for a while,
what do you say we go and pay Tiffer a visit?”

  Paris nodded, smiling triumphantly. She had no idea how Plato knew how and when to help, but she was grateful that he’d volunteered for the job.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I thought we were supposed to be catching a train to find Tiffer,” Paris remarked when they stood in front of the bakery display cases in the Crying Cat Bakery. “What are we doing here?”

  “Well, as I said before,” King Rudolf began. “Tiffer won’t help just anyone. She likes me because I know how to find her, I’m pleasant to look at, I make her laugh, and I know to always bring her favorite pastry. Oh, and I saved her life.”

  “I’m sure she’s most grateful for the last part,” Paris replied.

  He shrugged. “Maybe. It was only because I called off the hit I had placed on her.”

  “So you were having her killed and didn’t?” Paris questioned. “I don’t think that qualifies as saving her life.”

  “Remember when I called off that hit at the last moment?” King Rudolf asked, looking over the display case of pastries at Lee—the assassin baker.

  “Do I?” Lee replied sarcastically. “I had to throw the bomb in the opposite direction at the last moment, where it hit a prickle of porcupines. I was picking quills out of my butt for ages.”

  “Ummm…I have so many questions right now,” Paris said, confused.

  “I make it a habit never to answer questions from someone as short as you,” Lee said dryly. “You could be a large child or an underdeveloped fairy or a tall gnome. It’s impossible to know.”

  “I’m twenty years old and in perfect health as a halfling, as far as I know,” Paris remarked.

  Lee shrugged. “Furthermore, I don’t trust short people. They’re invariably up to something, overcompensating for their stunted growth.”

  “Right,” Paris said, drawing out the word. “I’ll keep my curious questions to myself then.”

  “Do you have anything with Hennessy in it?” Rudolf asked, scanning the rows of buttery-looking pastries.