Trying the Trickster, page 1
Trying the Trickster
Monster Magic Dating Service
Book Two
L.A. Boruff
Daphne Moore
Copyright © 2023 by L.A. Boruff & Daphne Moore
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design Copyright © 2022 Glowing Moon Designs
Book Design by L.A. Boruff
Printed in the United States of America First Printing, 2022
Contents
1. Reynard
2. Cathy
3. Cathy
4. Reynard
5. Cathy
6. Reynard
7. Cathy
8. Cathy
9. Cathy
10. Reynard
11. Cathy
12. Reynard
13. Cathy
14. Cathy
15. Cathy
16. Cathy
17. Reynard
18. Cathy
19. Tanni
20. Vetting the Vampire Chapter 1
More Fiction by Daphne More
About Daphne Moore
More Paranormal Women’s Fiction by L.A. Boruff
About L.A. Boruff
1
Reynard
Bran fidgeted with his seat belt. If he'd been one of my people, he’d have been a cat. As it was, I could almost see his tail puffed and swishing back and forth as he considered our options.
He was worried enough that my driving didn’t scare him.
While this Franklin was a piece of work, I was confident that Roma was more than a match for him. Physical strength wasn’t everything, as I’d proved for a very long time. Not that I lacked but punching through walls to get at your enemies lacked flair. Why do everything the dull way when a world of entertainment was at my fingertips?
But Bran was a good king, which meant he worried too much.
When Bran’s phone rang again, he jabbed at the screen so hard and fast it crackled. "Hello? Are you safe?"
I listened to the conversation without shame. Bran shot me a hard look and kept my eyes on the road with my most innocent expression hung on my face.
Why have sharp ears if you couldn't satisfy your curiosity?
"Yes." Roma chuckled, the sound satisfied and impish. "Franklin isn't."
"I'm on my way to your office." Bran, ever the prim and proper king, slumped a little in relief as he looked over at me. "She's safe."
Accepting that I wasn’t going to stop listening, Bran put the phone on speaker.
"It's a long story, but I think I sent Franklin to another dimension."
Interesting! How had she done that. It made for a new way to deal with enemies.
Bran’s voice was quizzical. "Okay, you're going to have to explain that one to me when I get there."
"I will," she said. "Just hurry."
We pulled up to her office building and after a short discussion with the night security where Bran put on his leadership face, and I watched in some amusement as they obeyed, even though he wasn’t their leader, we headed straight upstairs. I might've helped a bit, confusing their minds so they accepted his orders more easily.
It would wear off in an hour or so. No permanent harm.
I’d grown considerate of consequences to normal humans in my time here. It was normally more Bran’s style, but with Andromeda in danger, he didn’t look like he cared.
He bolted out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened and hurried to the office. Andromeda waited for us in the reception area, looking a little bedraggled but otherwise unharmed.
"What the hell happened?" Bran pulled her into his arms. I winced as he hugged her tight. Bran was very strong. She squeaked and gasped, then pushed on his shoulders.
“Need to breathe,” she wheezed.
Bran loosened his embrace.
Andromeda leaned her head against his chest. “I sent Franklin to another world. With the help of my stolen magic and a chair."
Bran frowned down at her. "Okay, you're going to have to start from the beginning."
His confused expression was hilarious. The chair part intrigued me.
I prowled the room. All sorts of interesting things on the desks, as they reverted to the usual boring “Are you sure you’re alright-yes I’m fine” conversation in hushed tones.
I was leaning over a desk when Roma raised her voice. “Reynard. I know foxes have a reputation as tricksters. If there’s anything out of place or booby trapped as a practical joke, there will be words.”
Straightening, I turned to look at her. “I had no intention of doing anything like that.”
Bran wore a trace of a smile.
Roma glared at me until I raised my hands and moved to a place where she could keep her eyes on me. Satisfied, she launched into the interesting story. "Franklin built this chair that anyone who sits in it gets transported to another world. I don't know how it works, but it does. He wanted to partner with the bad goblins to basically eradicate half the Earth's population, then I don't know what once all the people were dead. Maybe he was going to send the goblins all through the chair at that point. With him, deceit is likely."
"Do you think your sister was in on it?" I asked.
Andromeda shook her head vehemently, loose wavy hair bouncing. "No. Franklin tried to convince me to enter some sort of trio relationship with him and my sister. She'd never go for that in a million years."
She patted her butt. "Ugh, I keep looking for my phone. Franklin had it in his hand when he went through the portal."
"Did he say anything about the twisted goblins? Where they are or what are their plans?" Bran asked.
She shook her head and tugged on Bran’s hand. "Let me show you the chair. I felt my own stolen magic in it. At first, I was just going to steal it back, but then I realized that I could use the chair to my advantage."
Bran's hands were clenched and white knuckled.
I could think of a few ways to use the chair, but I was curious how her mind worked. And diverting Bran’s attention would be a good thing at the moment. "How so?"
"When Franklin was distracted I shoved him into it. Now he's gone. Hopefully for good. He had said he didn't think there was a way for anyone to claw their way out of that world. Hopefully he's right."
I studied the chair as Bran tugged her back into his arms. While I could sense that it was magical, my ability stopped there. An artificer would need to examine it, to find its purpose and what abilities it had been created with.
"We should get that thing to the goblin safe house.”
Bran nodded. And also cover it with something so it doesn’t get sat on by accident. We'll have Christian contact some trolls to look at it."
Trolls were the great creators, skilled craftsmen. There were only a few of them now, but this was a dangerous enough creation I wanted an expert’s opinion.
I nodded. "I will do that."
And maybe play with it a bit, see what it could do…
Before I could move, a door opened down the hall. The room behind it was dark and shadowy. I pulled a knife, ready to change shape as Mort Erikson and Bjorn Thomkins stepped out. Bran’s biggest enemies, and the two leaders of the goblins who wanted to subjugate this world. Both of them had fallen victim to the virus physically, though their minds remained whole and focused on their rage at humanity and their desire to rule.
They reminded me of my own, hurt as badly, who I wanted to heal.
Bran shoved Andromeda behind him, drawing his sword and adopting a defensive stance. "I will not let you take over this world."
Mort's grin split his haggard face. "There doesn't seem to be much you can do to stop us."
I shifted position, moving so I could flank them with Bran if it came to a fight.
"I can kill you." Bran smiled at them, his expression almost dreamy. He was wanting this fight to vent all the fear he’d carried for Roma. "Should be easy enough."
Both sides launched themselves and I moved forward, ready to help Bran. Then Roma yelled out, her voice pushing a wave of magic through the room. "Stop!"
To my astonishment, I did. So did Bran, Bjorn, and Mort. If the air could have stopped moving, I believe it would have too.
Backing away and to the side, I turned so I could see Andromeda while keeping our enemies in my sights. Bran stood, weapon at ready, but not engaged with his rebels.
"Give us a chance to try to make this right," she said. She moved forward, her attention on the goblins.
Bjorn and Mort exchanged a look, their blades easing to a rest position. "How?"
They were listening? Those two had never listened to anything in their lives.
It must be her magic. Her powers of persuasion were both innate and magical. It made sense.
I glanced at Bran. Dumbfounded and smitten summed his expression up nicely. The man was a complete goner.
"I've started contact with a friend. If we can get her help, she might be able to find a cure to the virus that causes your looks and minds to change. Once a cure is in place, we could try a little matchmaking," Roma sai
The two goblin leaders looked at each other again and then Mort stepped forward. "We are."
I'd heard an expression on the human television, and I muttered it now. "You could knock me over with a feather."
Mort growled. "This isn't over. We aren't finished. But we are willing to allow your human pet to attempt to heal us."
Bjorn cut his gaze at me. "This is torture."
It did look painful. He had horns protruding from the top of his head as well as an enormous growth on his back.
"I'll find a way to help you," Andromeda said, her words like balm on a wound. "But in the meantime, please try to stay out of trouble."
Bjorn snarled but turned to me. "We will submit to the king. For now." He bowed, only slightly, but enough to show deference, then Mort followed suit. They strode into the room from which they'd emerged, and Andromeda turned to me with her jaw unhinged.
"King?"
My phone pinged. I glanced down.
It was from the dating service.
One of your matches has had a date come open tomorrow evening. Please text Y if you have availability.
Y.
Definitely Y.
Roma squeaked at Bran. "King?"
"Did I not mention that? I am the king of the goblins. And you, my dear, if you'll accept, are going to be my queen."
I glanced up at her expression, stifled a snicker and said, “Bran, I need to leave for an important engagement. You can handle the chair, right?”
He nodded his attention on Roma, whose jaw was hanging open as she struggled for words.
I slid out of the room. There was nothing but boring cleanup left here, and I had to organize my schedule to make room for my date. Shifters were a rowdy bunch, abnd Halo didn’t like babysitting them if she could avoid it.
2
Cathy
"Every date you've sent me on has been with a literal monster, hasn’t it?" I couldn't help my voice being loud and shrill. Anne Fortuna had matched me with monsters!
Two days ago, I was a normal, relatively happy freelance artist. I'd joined up with a dating service, which to that point in my life, to my knowledge, had been the most daring thing I'd ever done.
Now I'd realized the most daring thing I'd ever done was going on a date with a werewolf last month. That was one step too many if I was being entirely honest.
Anne sighed and nodded, her lips a thin line of disapproval as she worked her way through the files on her laptop. She was clearly still paying attention to me, but the fact that she wasn’t looking at me while she did it suggested she wasn’t happy with me. What, like it was my fault the men her algorithm selected for me weren’t human? "May I ask how you figured this out?"
I wasn't sure how deep my best friend Roma was into this monster stuff. At this point, with the knowledge I had at my disposal, I didn't want to get her involved or implicate her if I didn't have to. "Let's just say I encountered some, ah, paranormal activity at a friend's place recently. It made me take a closer look at my life and the first thing that popped to mind was my recent date with a werewolf."
Anne nodded, obviously understanding a little more than I'd said, but she didn't press for details. "Yes, the men I've sent you out with are all monsters of some kind or another. But that doesn't make them bad people, Cathy, really it doesn't. Just misunderstood."
"Maxwell nibbled my fingers, Anne. My fingers. And he kept looking at my throat." I shuddered delicately. "And I like a guy with chest hair as much as the next gal, but there were tufts of hair poking out of his neckline and his sleeves." At that point, I would've shaved it. I mean, come on. That was a little over the top. Though his gorgeous dark blue eyes had almost made up for it…
With a sympathetic smile, Anne nodded again. Her silver hair shone in the overhead light. "Yes, I know it can be rather alarming. But these men are just like you and me. They put their pants on one leg at a time."
I snorted. "One paw at a time."
How had we gotten here? Roma had been at her apartment with the guy Anne had set her up with. Bran. I hadn't been able to get a hold of her, so I'd gone to check and make sure she wasn't having one of her debilitating headaches.
And I'd seen Bran as he was. Hot, but not human. Gray skin, silver hair like a mane, the facial proportions subtly off, his eyes too large, his jaw too heavy.
I’d sketched more than enough faces to know how they were structured. And I’d known his face wasn’t human, not by a long shot.
It'd all gone downhill after that revelation. I was now a woman obsessed with the paranormal. For two days, I'd combed the internet looking for proof of whatever Bran had been. Some kind of troll was the best I'd been able to come up with.
As much as I wanted to ask Anne what in the world Bran was, that would bring Roma into it. I had to go talk to my bestie next. I hadn't wanted to bring this to her until I was sure. Now that I had a real confession from Anne Fortuna, I could go to Roma and talk to her about her troll boyfriend.
"Were the others monsters too?" I rubbed my temple, beyond freaking out. This was going to give me some sort of mental break, I was sure of it.
Anne nodded, her lips in a tight line as she worked on the laptop. "They're all different kinds of monsters. Monsters wasn't the right word for them, though. It has such a negative connotation. They're people. They just look a little different."
"And act different. What was up with my second date, Nathan Cosby? I can't figure him out. He was very smooth. Handsome, put together. Suave, even, but it was all too much. He was a good listener and seemed captivated by me." I thought about the attention the man had given me and grimaced. "Too perfect. I wasn't a hundred percent sure he was a monster at all, but then the third date was off, too, so I figured it was likely all three of them. And Maxwell Green was definitely some sort of werecreature. Werewolf?"
Anne stacked papers on her desk and neatened already neat piles. It wasn’t hard to figure out that she was doing her best not to look at me. "Yes, Maxwell was a werewolf. They can be a little hairy, and they use their olfactory senses frequently."
"Ew, yeah, he kept sniffing me. What about the third guy, Louis? He was stocky and had a long beard. He gave me a freaking diamond necklace he said he'd mined himself. Who does that?"
"Ah." Anne pulled at her collar, clearly uncomfortable with me having figured all this out. "Louis is a dwarf. They—"
"I knew it!" I exclaimed. "The only reason I didn't ask you if he was a dwarf was because he was tall, taller than me, even. What about Rico Suave, number two? Nathan? Is he a vampire?"
"Nathan is a muse." She sniffed and arched an eyebrow. "Very human-like. I thought you'd get on with him, truly."
"A muse. What does that mean, should he have inspired me, since I'm an artist?"
"Well, muses don't work the way the stories say, but I suppose he could inspire people. He has the ability to charm."
I leaned back in my chair. "How do muses work, then?"
"Muses, for a lack of a better verb, suck creativity out of people. Think of them as creative vampires. Instead of sucking your blood, they absorb your creativity. It feeds them."
My annoyance morphed into white-hot rage. "You set me up, an artist who depends on selling my paintings and other art to make a living, with a man who would take my creativity?"
She blinked several times, a chagrined expression flitting over her narrow face before saying, "Well, yes. That does seem to be a suboptimal pairing, doesn’t it? I wonder why the software didn't catch it."
"Suboptimal!" As an alternative to screaming, I jumped to my feet and paced her office. I wanted to scream at her, but that was not a good look for a friend to have. No doubt she had thought she was helping me, and I was trying to keep that in mind rather than panicking about the fact that one of the “dates” she’d set me up might have permanently ruined my livelihood. It was large enough that I could get almost a dozen steps before I had to turn or run into the stand of potted plants. "I've been blocked, do you know that? It's been, what, two weeks since I had that date? And I haven't been able to draw, paint, sculpt, or anything. I'm blocked."
