Pink Princess Fairytini (Fairy Files #2) (7 page)

An hour later, I was dressed in dark slacks and a cream-colored back-less tank that allowed my wings to be out. And I still had them out. I loved having them free from my skin. I had stayed in the shower longer than usual just to revel in the feel of the water drops on my wings.

I sat down on the couch next to Vin and glared at Frost. Mercury was gone, either in his own room or off to his day job selling fae drugs that purported to give humans magical abilities, though we had yet to see any humans with said magical abilities. “Do I smell good enough for your sensitive nose now, Frost, honey?” I asked in a sing-song voice.

He just growled low in his throat. I swear he was getting ruder and more animal-like. “Let’s just focus on what we’re here to do,” he said. “Vin suggested I might be able to help because I know the neighborhood better and know more of the sorts of trouble kids can get into there.”

Vin pulled out her notebook and a pen, and started taking notes as Frost spoke. I listened, surprised that he didn’t just give Vin facts and statistics, but told her about individuals and the hardships of those in the neighborhood. When he started talking about drop-out rates and low incomes, I got distracted by his lips, the way they moved in such a confident assertive manner. His amber eyes softened and hardened to gold by turns as he spoke about what concerned him and the dangers in the human world.

“You hate violence,” I said, the realization occurring as he was mid-sentence, and my words spoken without forethought.

He froze. “Is that relevant to this conversation?” There was steel in his voice, but his eyes had gone hot and seemed to be stuck on me. I didn’t look away. I ignored the anger in his voice, focused on the intensity in his eyes, and pondered the problem of a wolf, an alpha, who hated violence or was, at the very least, angered by it. The heat in his eyes wasn’t anger, and it made me uncomfortable. He liked that I’d seen through to his inner self.

“No,” I said, dragging my eyes from his. “But the fae can do little about the danger and the violence unless we give them a way out, a job that gives them other options than crime.”

“We don’t have the resources for a career counselor or job training. We can only do so much,” he said, turning to Vin for support.

“But it won’t be enough,” she said, echoing my thoughts. “Chloe’s right.”

He sighed. “It’s all we can do right now. If you two can come up with a way to do more, I’d be happy to help.”

I nodded, the gears in my brain already turning, searching for solutions to the problem. Of course, we wouldn’t really know how much of a problem it was until we’d met with everyone and heard their stories, but I wanted to be able to offer them options, to give them a reason for hope. I didn’t have the money or the means to give them those options directly, but I might know some folks who could.

Even the strong need to be saved every once in a while
. – Chloe Frangipani

You look out for yourself first, baby girl, because no one else is going to
. – Althea Frangipani

Ephemeral filled with the scents of tapas from the kitchen as my tables filled with fae of all ages and all species, until there was standing room only. I hadn’t wanted to put Frost on the front door and scare away those fae brave enough to venture to my club, but we had to weed out the humans somehow, and he was the only person I knew who could sniff out the humans. He’d told the humans that the event had been cancelled and let in the fae.

“Only a few fae got spooked by me,” Frost texted. “Don’t see any more headed this way, I’m locking the door.”

I nodded at Vin and she stood. “Thank you all for coming tonight,” she said. “The food will be out shortly, but before it arrives we want to talk a few minutes about why we called this meeting.”

That was my cue. I stood and let my wings unfurl from my back while Vin moved her thick hair away to reveal her nubby horns. Her furry legs and hooves were covered by pants and we’d decided it was probably best if she didn’t strip in front of everyone. “We are fae, just like you,” Vin said over a few gasps of surprise. Some of them didn’t look surprised, and I figured they’d pegged us as fae as soon as they walked in the door. Pierson, who already knew I was fae, would be serving the folks there, and my cooking staff had been instructed to remain in the kitchen. I didn’t think it was necessary to keep my fae status a secret, but I’d seen how quickly my mother had been accused of being crazy when she’d tried to bring the fae out into the sun. “And just like you,” Vin continued. “I have had to learn how to navigate the human world as a stranger to its ways. Chloe, here, has lived in the Non all her life and has some good information for us about how to stay safe and maybe how to better our situations.”

Vin sat, and I remained standing. “Thank you all for coming,” I said. “When you came in, you should have all picked up a piece of paper and a pen, I’d like you to list your contact information, your skills, and what you need most, and turn those in to me by the end of the evening. We want to help you all find jobs and get you the things you most desperately need. First, though, I want to explain to you the customs and the ways of the human world and then speak about the dangers.”

“We don’t need no hand-outs,” shouted a burly man with green, seaweed-like hair.

Vin had warned me that the large majority of fae didn’t believe in giving or accepting help, especially from other species. It just wasn’t their way. “Maybe you don’t, but maybe others here do. I’m not suggesting I can provide for all of you, but I might be able to help you find work or a better place to live. I can at least give you helpful information. If you don’t need any of that, you are free to leave.”

“Why should we trust a fairy?” A tall, lithe woman asked.

“I’m a fairy who’s lived all of my life in the Non. I have no affiliation with the fairies who terrorized people in Rubalia.”

“Except that your mother is the queen, right? And she’s done nothing to improve things in Rubalia,” said a scrawny teenager.

Shit, I really didn’t know what my mother had or hadn’t done in her new role as queen, and I couldn’t argue in her defense, even if I wanted to. I looked to Vin for help, but she was already on her feet. “Chloe is not her mother and her only interest, her only goal, right now is to help all of you have better lives here in the Non. If you don’t or can’t trust that, you should leave. But you have my word that she has your best interests at heart.”

About ten of the two hundred or so fae in the room stood and left without another word. The rest stayed and listened while I detailed the dangers of the human world and the basic rules of human etiquette. After about an hour of that, Pierson set out the food buffet-style and everyone got something to eat. Then we opened it up to questions and let them go.

I was just starting to sort the papers the fae had given us into some sort of workable order, with the help of Vin, when Frost showed up at the door to my office. “Another kid has gone missing,” he said.

“Run away?”

He shook his head. “Maybe, but this one’s only ten and his family has only been in the Non for two weeks. They’re so wary of me that they didn’t come to me directly, but a friend of the family asked for help on their behalf.”

“Ten?” I asked, looking at Vin. “Do the fae mature more quickly than humans?”

“Do you know the species?” Vin asked.

Frost shrugged, his jaw tense. “Fairy.”

Vin sighed. “Like humans, fairies believe that children should be allowed to be children, but life experiences determine maturity. There’s just no good way to know.”

Frost nodded. “That’s why I’d like you two to come with me to talk to the family. They’re more likely to open up to you.”

I dropped the pile of papers on the desk and stood. “Let’s go.”

A woman answered the door, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. She looked young, so, so young. Younger than I’d ever been. And, yet, she had a ten-year-old son. “Hi,” I said, keeping my voice gentle, because she looked as though she’d fall apart at too loud a sound, her small, delicate wings trembling. I wondered that no human had noticed the wings, or if they just thought she was quirky and wore fake wings. I let my own wings fly, to help her feel connected to me, to trust me as a fellow fairy. “I’m here to help. I understand your son is missing?”

The woman, Mrs. Rosen, nodded, but she darted her eyes to Frost who stood behind me and Vin and fear flashed there. I knew the fae didn’t all love werewolves, but I didn’t understand why she’d fear one. “It’s fine. My husband is out looking for Renny now.”

“Of course,” Vin said. “I’m sure he will find him, but my friends, Chloe and Frost, they’ve lived in the human world all of their lives. They may be able to help your husband find him more quickly. You do want your son home as soon as possible, don’t you?”

Her jaw tightened and her eyes hardened in a way I would not have expected. “You two may enter,” she said. “But the wolf stays out there.”

I looked back at Frost and he nodded. “Okay,” I said. “He’ll stay out here.”

Mrs. Rosen stepped back from the door and gestured us inside. The apartment was tiny. A single room with one double mattress on the floor, a small galley-style kitchen and two closed doors, which likely led to the bathroom and a closet. The room was spotlessly clean and neat. “I’m sorry I don’t have furniture,” she said. “You may sit on the bed.”

It felt strange to sit on her bed, but Vin shook her head when I tried to sit on the floor. Vin took a seat in the center of the mattress, and I sat next to her. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said. “Can you tell us when your son disappeared? What was he doing? Where was he?”

“I asked him to go down the street to the shop on the corner. I needed some soap to wash the clothes and we’d scraped enough together for it. He never came back.”

“Are you employed,” I asked. “Does your husband have a job?”

Mrs. Rosen’s back straightened and anger flashed in her eyes. “That is not your concern. We take good care of our son.”

Vin opened her mouth to step in, but I waved her off. “Of course you do. But other fae kids who have gone missing joined gangs and, if your son thought you needed money, he might have joined a gang to try to help you out.”

“My son would never join a…What is it exactly? This gang?”

I almost laughed at Mrs. Rosen’s 360 degree change in expression, but I managed to remain expressionless after a few deep breaths through my nose. I looked to Vin for help, and she explained the concept of gangs to the fairy woman in words she understood. Apparently, in Rubalia they had wandering mobs of criminals not unlike our gangs, but more wild west than inner city.

“No,” the woman said. “He is a good boy. He wouldn’t join a gang.”

“Not even to keep you from starving?”

She shook her head. “My husband is lucky. He has just gotten a good job at a bank as a teller. He is good with numbers. I’ve been taking in sewing projects to make us some money in the mean-time. My son had no reason to join a gang.”

“Sometimes gangs offer friendship. Could he have been lonely?” I asked.

“No,” Mrs. Rosen said. “No. We’d only moved here three weeks ago, and he already had a half-dozen friends. He is very outgoing and people like him.”

Vin looked just as bewildered as I felt. “Was there anyone from Rubalia who might be angry with you? Who might have caused trouble for your son?”

She shook her head. “No, no. We left because we fear the war that is brewing. We had no enemies there and most of our closest friends and family left when we did.”

It didn’t make sense to me that the fear of a war, the distant possibility of a war, would cause them and all of their friends and family to leave Rubalia. There had to be something more going on, something she wasn’t telling me.

“Did you have concerns about any of his friends? Hear any of them mention being in trouble?”

“No,” Mrs. Rosen said, tears rising and falling down her cheeks. “He’s a good boy, everyone loves him.”

“We’ll need to talk to his friends,” Vin said. She got a list of names and addresses and we left. Frost met us in the hallway.

“We should call the police,” I said.

“Already did,” Frost said. “They came to talk to the mother, and she told them she doesn’t have a son. She was terrified of the police for some reason.”

I shook my head. Nothing about any of this felt right. I stared at Frost, trying to make sense of all the different pieces and came up empty. It couldn’t be a coincidence that all of the missing kids were fae, and had recently left Rubalia. I needed to know what was making so many leave Rubalia. “I need to talk to my mother.”

Frost flinched as though I’d slapped him.

“No,” Vin said. “There is no reason to involve her. We’ll talk to Renny’s friends first.”

So we knocked on doors and talked to more people, all of whom seemed wary and afraid of Frost, but none of whom could contradict anything Mrs. Rosen had said. “We got nothing,” I said, once we were back on the street. “I’m going to talk to my mother.”

“No,” Vin said. “There’s no reason for her to tell you the truth and, even if she did, it wouldn’t get us any closer to finding this kid.”

I looked at Frost, waiting for him to contradict me, but he looked thoughtful, his gaze distant. “I agree with—”

“You people the ones been asking about the missing kid?” A brownie, recognizable by his short stature, stub nose, and scent of chocolate, walked up and inserted himself amidst us.

“Yes,” I said, smiling brightly, hoping to charm him and get him to reveal what he knew. “Did you know him?”

“Nope, but word on the street is that he didn’t run. He was kidnapped.”

“Word on the street?” Frost asked. “Did someone see him taken?”

The brownie shrugged. “I’m just repeating what I heard. Folks around here don’t talk too loud, they whisper, and the whisper about the boy is that he was taken.”

“Taken where? By who?” Vin asked.

The brownie shrugged. “If we knew that, we’d go and bring him home, now wouldn’t we?”