By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(81)

Brandsome cleared his throat. Loudly.

“Well, enough reminiscing,” I said. “Let’s get down to it. I’m willing to reimburse you. That’s it. Otherwise, Quinn and I will go to the Hominus Realm and wait it out. Up to you, but that’s a lot of coin.”

“Fine.” Brandsome glared at both of us. If he could shoot poison we’d be dead on the floor. But that wasn’t one of unicorns’ talents and I’d probably be immune anyway. Then I’d shred him before he hurt Quinn. But I digress.

A moment later we signed off on all the appropriate documents. I even waived the fee for returning his horn. I was feeling magnanimous. After all, Quinn was now free.

Joy radiated off him even though he hadn’t reopened our connection. Before I could ask him to, he removed the barrier and I was hit with so much happiness and love it almost knocked me off my feet. Damn, it felt good.

I reached over and snapped the heinous collar from his neck. He’d never wear anyone’s collar again. I couldn’t help staring at his throat where his familiar tattoo would go. I was eager for him to get it.

“I’d say it’s nice doing business with you, but I’d be lying,” Brandsome grumbled at the end.

“A piece of advice, Brandsome.” I grinned and let my fangs drop through my gum line. “I may have agreed to abide by the Alphae’s rules, but if you so much as come within a square mile of Quinn, I’ll tear you to pieces. Clear?”

Brandsome squeaked out an assent. He turned to go.

“Is he gone yet?” Bill said, making us all jump.

“Bill, what did I say?”

“Sorry, sorry.” So not sorry.

I rolled my eyes.

“I-is that a-a Red Fury?” Brandsome’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, goodness, I hadn’t expected you to still be here.” Bill straightened his tie, adjusted his vest.

“Really, Bill? He’s an asshole. And his face is all covered in blood.”

“So I see,” Bill all but purred. “So beautiful.”

Brandsome’s face twisted in distaste before transforming into a gleeful smile. He pointed his horn at Bill.

“Oh, fuck, Bill get out of here—” I shouted “Tell me your name, Demon. Your real name.” The horn lit up and its magic struck Bill straight in the chest. Since the horn was a part of Brandsome it would be a lot more potent than when Nyx tried to wield it. Shit.

Bill roared, a heartrending sound that had both Quinn and me covering our ears. Then he took a quick step forward and sank his teeth into the tip of the horn.

We all heard the crack.

“No!” Brandsome screamed, trying to pull the horn from Bill’s maw. Another crack and Bill bit off the tip of the horn. He crunched a few times, then swallowed.

“My horn! Candy canes and kittens, what have you done?” Brandsome looked like he was about to faint and Bill reached out to steady him. The horn shot random bolts of magic into the room before it went dark.

“Well, now that we don’t have that awkwardness between us, how about going to dinner with me, hot stuff?” Bill waggled his eyebrows.

Brandsome squawked and fled the room.

Bill turned to us. “Don’t wait up.”

He disappeared, hot on the heels of the fleeing Brandsome.

“I don’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for the unicorn.”

“I’ll never feel sorry for him,” Quinn gritted out. “I feel sorry for Bill.”

“Yeah, well, not everyone can have such refined taste.” I pulled him close and leaned down to kiss him.

“Wait,” Quinn put his hand on my chest. “I want to know how your father managed all that in such a short time. You’ve never exactly said how it works.”

I smirked. “My dad’s special talent is to work bureaucracies. He knows every law, every principle, every exception.”

“Bureaucracy?” Quinn’s thunderstruck face expression was priceless.

“Mmhmm. In a realm so taken with regulations and hierarchy, that makes him very, very powerful.”

“Do . . . Do you share his talent?”

“I hope not.”

“But he’ll expect—”

“I know.”

“You shouldn’t have bargained—”

I covered Quinn’s mouth with my own. I’d deal with my father’s demands later.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice called from the doorway. We broke apart and turned to see who had entered. An older half-elf with white-streaked hair and a form-fitting blouse that strained over her rounded figure looked between the two of us. She held a large metal box clasped in her hands. “Is this Starfig Investigations? A strange ghost parrot said you’d be able to help. I’m in need of someone to find my ex-boyfriend. He’s run off with my Chalice of Infatuation. The bastard plans to use it on a young”—she sniffed—“elf he met at the pub.”

Quinn and I shared a look.

“You’ve come to the right place,” Quinn said.

I couldn’t agree more.





Acknowledgments


This work would not have been possible without the support and eagle-eyes of my writing group. Carla Coupe, Adele Buck, and Donetta Marie. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. You’ve made the editing process so much more enjoyable and given me much needed laughter.