Creatures: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance, page 242
“Exactly,” I huff. “Messed up.”
“Sorry … I shouldn’t—”
“It’s just up ahead,” I interrupt, motioning toward the brick building on the corner.
“You live in a bar?” Piper narrows her brow.
“No!” I exclaim. “I work in the bar, and I live in one of the apartments above it.”
“Really?” she asks, and I can’t tell if she thinks it’s cool or pathetic.
Defensively, I reply, “Yeah, is that a problem?”
She cocks her head to one side and in a confused tone answers, “No, of course not. I just never imagined a Magistrate would bother with a job.”
“Well, I wasn’t a Magistrate until yesterday,” I snarl, sliding my key into the side door that leads up to the three apartments. “And why wouldn’t a Magistrate have a job?”
“It’s just that you’re all so—”
“So what?”
“Wealthy.”
I laugh wildly and wait for her to follow me inside before closing the door. I head for the staircase, still laughing. “Oh, honey, a lot of people have used a lot of words to describe me, and I can guarantee you that wealthy has never been one of them.”
I climb the stairs, watching Piper as she continues, “Well, you are now. Magistrates are funded by The Queen. You tell her what you need, and she provides it.”
I freeze and turn to look at her. “Wait.” I place an arm against the wall in front of her so she can’t move forward. “Are you telling me if I told The Queen I needed a new car, she would simply give it to me?”
“Exactly, whatever is needed to do your job.”
“A boat?”
“If you needed it, of course.”
I squint at her, my mind unable to fully process what she’s telling me. “Whatever I want?”
She nods affirmatively.
“Oh, the Queen and I are going to have to have a little chat,” I snicker, rubbing my hands together greedily planning out my first purchase.
Piper gasps. “Oh no, you don’t want to do that. You never contact the Queen.”
“Why not? I spoke to her yesterday.”
“It’s just not done,” Piper insists. “If you need anything, I can contact Myers for you.”
“Who?” I continue up the stairs before pausing at my apartment door.
“Myers—he handles all the day-to-day details with the Magistrates.”
“So he’s my boss?” I ask.
She laughs and says, “Oh no, the only people above you are the council and the Queen.”
“Really?” I ask, tilting my head. I might actually be starting to like the sound of this gig after all. “So what does the Queen do?”
“What do you mean?” Piper shrugs. “She’s the Queen.”
“So she plays dress up every day?”
“You really shouldn’t talk that way about the Queen,” Piper warns.
“Lighten up, buttercup.”
Piper grabs my arm and whispers, “I’m serious, she has ears everywhere.”
I slide the key into my door and turn the knob before replying, “Well, not in my apartment, she—” My words hang in the air as I open the door to find a scene I never expected to see— ever. The little creature who had visited me the day before is sitting on my couch, and based on the room, he has obviously made himself at home. I walk inside, staring at him, speechless.
“Oh God,” Piper gasps, bringing a hand up to her nose. I see her spy my visitor as well. “You live with a goblin?” she exclaims in disbelief.
“No! A what?”
“You’ll have to excuse this one,” the goblin huffs, only glancing up from the television for a moment. “Apparently she’s a newbie.”
“Excuse me?” I realize I’m shouting, but I don’t care. Crossing the room hastily, I switch off the Chinese soap opera he’s engrossed in.
“Hey! I was watching that.”
I turn and face him, realizing he’s lying on my fold-out sofa without a shirt and my sheet pulled up to his waist.
“What are you doing in my bed?” I cover my mouth, afraid I might puke from looking at him or perhaps it’s his odor that’s causing my stomach to churn.
“Waiting for you!” he announces crossing his stubby little arms. “Have you found my treasure yet?”
“Get out of my bed!” I shout impatiently, scooping up the trash that is littering the floor of my apartment. I’m not a tidy person, but this guy is a health hazard.
“What treasure?” Piper asks, pitching in and giving me a hand.
“I don’t advise me getting up,” the goblin answers with a devilish grin.
“Oh yeah, and why is that?” I ask, making sure it’s clear how annoyed I am.
“I’m not wearing anything under here,” he replies.
I drop the trash in my hands and shudder. “Okay, that’s it, I’m burning everything in this place.”
“Hello? Treasure?” Piper presses.
I’m ignoring her, as I think out loud about the logistics of what I’m planning to do. “I mean, seriously, if you’re right, and The Queen gives me whatever I need, then screw this rat hole of an apartment. I’ll just tell the landlord to throw everything on the curb and send me a bill. I mean, really—he’s a goblin, how can they expect me to live in this place after, oh God, I can’t even think about it.”
“Tynder!” Piper exclaims.
I shake my head, clearing away the clutter of gruesome thoughts of what’s happening under those sheets and ask, “What?”
“Try and focus,” she directs me, and I shrug. She looks back at the vile creature currently defiling my bed. “My name is Piper, and I’m Tynder’s Crimlock. You say you have a complaint?”
“Do I ever! About time somebody knows how to do their job properly,” he snaps, glaring at me.
“Watch it, maggot, before I burn that sofa bed with you still on it,” I warn.
“See what I’ve had to deal with?” He waves his little arms in my direction, and I can’t help but snicker as he reminds me of a T-rex.
“Tell me what’s going on … What’s your name?” Piper continues. While I admire her restraint, I’m also annoyed she isn’t tossing this parasite out on his tail.
“Terg Zurank, which she would have known had she done the proper thing and offered me a beverage,” he begins. I toss my arms into the air and walk into the kitchen area, careful to avoid the clumps of mysterious goo on the floor.
“I’m very sorry, but Tynder is new, and she is still learning how things operate. I’m here now, so can you please explain the problem?” Piper attempts to coax the information from Terg.
“I’ve been robbed! That’s what the problem is, and that Magistrate doesn’t seem to give a flying unicorns hind-end!” Terg shouts.
“Well, you got that much right,” I interject with as much disdain as is possible.
“Please, you’re not helping,” Piper shushes me. I’m not sure how I feel about this. She turns back to Terg and continues her probing, “How do you know you were robbed?”
“Let’s see, doll, how does anyone know? One minute they’re filthy rich, and the next they’ve got nothing. My treasure is gone!”
“I’m so sorry.” I marvel at how she even sounds sincere when she says it.
“I know who took it, too” he adds.
“So why not just go get it back? Idiot!” I snap.
“You think I’m stupid?” Terg flails his hands wildly. “I know what will happen if I do that. I’ll be the one rotting for breaking Fae rules in a dispute.”
“Jiba chi shu,” I mutter the Chinese swear words under my breath, a habit I picked up in grade school that always irritated Joe.
“So tell me, who took your treasure?” Piper continues, ignoring the tension between Terg and me.
“Walter Trunkwater,” he announces with satisfaction. Even I recognize the name.
“Wait, the billionaire?” I scoff.
“You say billionaire, I say thief,” he answers swiftly.
Piper moves closer to Terg, and I wonder how she tolerates the odor in that proximity. “What makes you say that?”
“Really? Isn’t it obvious? He’s a treasure troll. He’s been after my stash since we were kids. In college, he pretended to be my friend, but all he really wanted to do was get close enough to swipe the gems my grandmother left me.” Somehow I have trouble imagining Terg with a grandmother.
“Okay, you did the right thing by coming to us. We’ll take care of it from here. Where can we reach you?” Piper asks.
“Oh no, I’m not going anywhere until I get my treasure back.”
“What?” I stiffen upright. “The hell you aren’t!”
Piper steps in between us as I lunge in his direction. She looks me in the eyes as she says, “Why don’t we go back to Josiah’s place until we figure this out?”
“What? This is my apartment,” I argue.
“Get what you need, and we can stay at Mr. Crowns; plus, he has all the books and everything else we could possibly need to try and figure out what to do next.”
“I know exactly what to do next,” I growl through gritted teeth.
“Please,” she begs me with her eyes as well as her words.
Looking around the apartment, it finally dawns on me. What can I possibly want in this place? It’s roach-infested, filthy, the hot water is hit or miss. Piper’s right. Terg can stay in this place as long as he wants. I’m leaving it, and I don’t plan to ever come back.
I say nothing, cross over to the only closet, and pull out a black duffle bag. It contains all of my important possessions—the only items I have left from my parents. “Fine, let’s go.”
“What about your clothes?” Piper asks.
I nod in Terg’s direction. “He needs them more than me.”
He mumbles something under his breath as we walk out the door, but I don’t care enough to react.
“You know, these are your clients. It’s your job to keep them happy, or you have to answer to The Council,” Piper informs, following me down the stairs and out the door.
“Let them ask their questions. Nobody tells me what to do or how to live.”
“The Council does. That’s what being a Magistrate is. Josiah made it that way.”
“Like I said, let them try. I do what I want. I’ll play their little game for now, but I’m here to figure out who in the hell killed Joe, and once I do, I’m out,” I answer boldly. I kind of feel like a badass saying the words.
“You need to be careful, Tynder. Neither the Council nor the Queen are to be trifled with.”
“We’ll see.” I smile.
Piper laughs apprehensively. “I have a feeling my life is never going to be the same now that I’ve met you.”
“God, I hope not. It sounded pretty lame before.” I turn and begin to walk in the same direction we just came from.
Chapter 8
“I don’t understand, this all seems so pointless,” I grumble as I lay on the couch, a cool cloth over my eyes.
irritated by the fact Piper has to plan out every single detail of how to proceed with the case.
“It’s not pointless,” Piper huffs, exasperated. “It’s how things are done.”
“Well, maybe I don’t care how things are done,” I shoot back.
“You said you wanted to be a Royal Magistrate,” Piper tosses my words back at me.
“What I want is to catch my grandfather’s killer,” I quip.
“Then start by gaining the Council’s trust.”
“How do I do that?” I ask, but don’t hear an answer. “I sure as hell know it’s not going to happen sitting around here and planning out every tiny detail of this treasure thief case. Why can’t we just go there and tell the guy that Terg told us he took his treasure and that he needs to give it back or we’ll turn him into the Council?”
“There’s a way to do things Tynder,” Piper says, making me feel scolded.
“Analysis paralysis if you ask me,” I huff.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re scared of screwing up your first case so you’re procrastinating,” I shoot back. I had
no desire to play house with this merry band of misfits. But if the sooner I jumped in, the sooner I would expose Joe’s killer? So be it.
I hear Piper’s footsteps move away from me, then some scraping against wood, and her steps near me again. She doesn’t fall into the trap I’ve set for her with my words. A book opens on the coffee table. I pull the cloth from my eyes and sit up.
“You can’t touch that!” I exclaim, seeing her flip through the pages of Josiah’s most treasured of books.
“What?” she asks as she continues flipping through the pages.
I slam a hand down on the table, too scared to even touch the book for fear it may fall apart in my fingers. “I said you can’t touch that! That’s Joes.”
She looks up at me, then calmly replies, “And now it’s yours.”
I shake my head, not in any mood to think about the fact I was now the rightful owner of everything that had belonged to Joe. “He told me to never touch it. That it was too old to be handled and the oils from your hands could destroy it.”
She smiles, then goes back to flipping through the pages. “He was protecting you. This is your Fae Tome.”
“My what?” I ask, a tingling sensation shooting up both of my arms. Instinctively, I collapse back onto the couch and fix my gaze on her.
“Every Magistrate has one. This book contains every bit of knowledge that exists on each type of Fae,” she explains.
I flex my fingers and resist the urge to punch something. I thought I was the one who kept secrets when it came to Joe and me. I can’t help wondering who the man even was now.
“Here!” she blurts out, slamming a hand down onto the book and pointing to a bold heading. “It’s right here.”
I blink at her in confusion.
“Treasure Trolls. Everything you need to know,” she adds.
I shiver, and glance at the darkened fireplace. “Is it cold in here?”
Without looking up, Piper grabs the wand that’s perched next to her on the arm of the chair, flicks her wrist at the fireplace, and my jaw drops as a crackling flame ignites.
“Ho—” I stop myself from asking the question. Having a witch around could take some getting used to. “What good will that book do in helping us figure out if this troll took Terg’s treasure?”
She sighs and rubs at her temple with a free hand. I try not to let her obvious frustration with my lack of knowledge annoy me, reminding myself that if I strangle her I will never have a chance to figure out all of this Magistrate stuff. “What if we march in there like you suggest and it ends up he’s not a friendly troll?”
I grin, crack my knuckles and declare, “Then we show him he’s messing with the wrong Magistrate and her Crim.”
“Do you know his powers?”
“Powers?” I parrot.
“Yes, or what might weaken him?” She glares at me for an answer, but I say nothing. “That’s what I thought. This book could save your life Tynder.”
“It didn’t save Joe’s,” I state in an almost whisper.
She gulps, her face going even paler than usual. She suddenly looks small and helpless. “I’m sorry,” she breaths. “He was—”
“Yeah, I know,” I cut her off and reply matter-of-factly. “He was a great man. And now he’s dead, even with his big fat book of knowledge, he’s still dead.”
Piper opens her mouth, but she can’t find any words.
I sigh, and say, “Well, go ahead, you may as well read what it says.”
Her eyes shift anxiously from the fire to the book, to me, and then back to the book. Clearing her throat, she reads at last, “Treasure trolls originated in Norway. Their average lifespan is around a thousand years and as such it is common for a treasure troll to amass a large amount of wealth during their lifetime. They are all born with a single head and a single eye, though it isn’t uncommon for a treasure troll to grow multiple heads, many only have the single head. Every troll will grow a second, if not a third eye in puberty.”
“Wow, this picture you’re painting just keeps getting prettier and prettier,” I chuckle.
Piper doesn’t look up as she continues reading, “They prefer the night as prolonged exposure to sunlight will cause their skin to begin to harden. As a matter of diet, they prefer charcoal and concrete.”
“What?” I let out thunderous laugh. “Do they drool on themselves too?”
“Tynder,” Piper begins. “We can’t underestimate Mr. Trunkwater. Treasure trolls are known to be very clever.”
“Clever?” I gasp. “He eats charcoal.”
“And one could say something similar to your diet, I’m sure.”
“No one couldn’t. I’ll have you know I live on a steady diet of merlot and Chinese takeout,” I announce proudly, which quickly fades when I see her disapproving expression.
“Exactly,” she frowns. “They find live electrical wires unsettling.”
I laugh and ask, “Who doesn’t?”
Piper draws in a breath.
“Anything else on weaknesses?” I ask, worried I may be revealing my concern.
“Just prolonged sunlight and electrical currents,” Piper replies.
“How is any of that helpful?” I hiss.
Piper smiles at me, and asks, “How are you at baking?”
I study her for a minute in silence, hoping something in her expression reveals what she might be thinking. “Something you should probably learn right away about me is I don’t cook. I doubt I could boil water.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m an excellent baker,” Piper chimes and toddles off in the direction of the kitchen.
Chapter 9
I gaze up at the massive building towering above us. The sunlight is beaming on the walls of glass, and I am questioning for about the hundredth time in recent days if I am going mad.
“Won’t you just try one?” Piper pleads with me again shoving the muffins up under my nose.
I push her away, “I told you, no way in hell is one of those things touching my lips.”
“Well, how will we know if they’re any good?” she asks.
