as it pained me, and it truly did hurt, I got dressed, stopped off for an extra-large coffee and a bottle of aspirin from the local bodega, and flagged down a taxi to take me into the pit of hell also known as Fairyland.
Right and Left stayed glued to me, and yet, instead of being annoyed by their now somewhat ripe presence, I figured having the two winged guys by my side might actually work in my favor. For once. Under normal circumstances I was Blue non grata to the fairies. Since I’d nearly destroyed their entire population.
Bunch of winged, tiny, grudge-holding babies.
To top it off they believed I had somehow brainwashed their Tooth Fairy, forcing her from her rightful toothy obligation and into my world of deadbeats and lawyers. Like anyone could force Izzy into doing anything. I’d seen her with a gun to her head and she hadn’t batted an eyelash. My partner was no pushover.
Until it came to those she loved.
Then she would die to protect each and every winged one of them.
I hoped like hell it never came to that.
For both our sakes.
CHAPTER 12
T he cab pulled to the curb in front of a small row house on the outskirts of Fairyland known as Fraternity Row, Row, Row. The frat house was surprisingly easy to find. You just had to follow the yellow brick road and the stench of rotten cabbage. Luckily no one dropped a house on us, but we did run into a prince wearing skinny jeans, which was much worse.
James’s former home looked unloved, with the shutters loosely hanging on rusted hinges, slamming against the house in the breeze. Peeling, weather-worn paint graced the structure, as did beer cans. They lay everywhere, as if a part of a science experiment that had gone wrong. A lounge chair sat on the rickety porch, along with an old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub. Of course both were full of empty beer cans. Above the door was a small engraved sign with the Greek lettering of some fraternity name.
“Something tells me we’re not in Kansas anymore,” I said with a halfhearted smile to the two winged dwarfs flanking my sides. While they didn’t outright laugh at my joke, Right’s eye did give a tiny twitch, a sure sign he was laughing on the inside.
I knocked on the wooden doorframe, fearing what would happen if I touched the rotted door. When only the faint sound of coughing reached my ears, I knocked again. Harder this time. Still no one answered. For a brief moment I wondered if James’s death wasn’t an attempt on my life as I first suspected. What if, as I stood on the porch, the killer was inside destroying the evidence of his crimes and/or murdering James’s roommates?
Hell with that, I thought as I slammed the heel of my boot into the rotted wood of the door. It splintered inward, and a smell so foul I backed up a step oozed from the opening. My eyes began to water as I waved a hand in front of my face to dispel the putrid air. At least James’s roommates weren’t dead as I’d first thought. Even decaying flesh didn’t stink that bad.
Aw, the joys of college life.
“Dude,” a drunken guy with a Fairyland U T-shirt on said as he stumbled toward me. “The door was unlocked.”
Oops. “My bad,” I said with a wince. Blue’s PI rule number one—always check to make sure a door is locked first. Rule two had something to do with getting payment up front from any client with wings.
Drunk guy didn’t seem to notice my heartfelt apology. Or he just didn’t care. Either way, he took an unsteady swing at me, missing by a good six inches. The momentum of the punch carried him by me, and he ended up facefirst in the beer-can-filled bathtub. I might’ve felt sorry for the guy had his punch been aimed at someone else. But it wasn’t, so I did what any PI would do. I offered him a hand up.
As soon as his skin made contact with mine, he froze in electrified shock. Fifty thousand volts rushed through my body and into his. He jerked back, muscles constricting. I let go of his hand and he dropped
Right and Left stayed glued to me, and yet, instead of being annoyed by their now somewhat ripe presence, I figured having the two winged guys by my side might actually work in my favor. For once. Under normal circumstances I was Blue non grata to the fairies. Since I’d nearly destroyed their entire population.
Bunch of winged, tiny, grudge-holding babies.
To top it off they believed I had somehow brainwashed their Tooth Fairy, forcing her from her rightful toothy obligation and into my world of deadbeats and lawyers. Like anyone could force Izzy into doing anything. I’d seen her with a gun to her head and she hadn’t batted an eyelash. My partner was no pushover.
Until it came to those she loved.
Then she would die to protect each and every winged one of them.
I hoped like hell it never came to that.
For both our sakes.
CHAPTER 12
T he cab pulled to the curb in front of a small row house on the outskirts of Fairyland known as Fraternity Row, Row, Row. The frat house was surprisingly easy to find. You just had to follow the yellow brick road and the stench of rotten cabbage. Luckily no one dropped a house on us, but we did run into a prince wearing skinny jeans, which was much worse.
James’s former home looked unloved, with the shutters loosely hanging on rusted hinges, slamming against the house in the breeze. Peeling, weather-worn paint graced the structure, as did beer cans. They lay everywhere, as if a part of a science experiment that had gone wrong. A lounge chair sat on the rickety porch, along with an old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub. Of course both were full of empty beer cans. Above the door was a small engraved sign with the Greek lettering of some fraternity name.
“Something tells me we’re not in Kansas anymore,” I said with a halfhearted smile to the two winged dwarfs flanking my sides. While they didn’t outright laugh at my joke, Right’s eye did give a tiny twitch, a sure sign he was laughing on the inside.
I knocked on the wooden doorframe, fearing what would happen if I touched the rotted door. When only the faint sound of coughing reached my ears, I knocked again. Harder this time. Still no one answered. For a brief moment I wondered if James’s death wasn’t an attempt on my life as I first suspected. What if, as I stood on the porch, the killer was inside destroying the evidence of his crimes and/or murdering James’s roommates?
Hell with that, I thought as I slammed the heel of my boot into the rotted wood of the door. It splintered inward, and a smell so foul I backed up a step oozed from the opening. My eyes began to water as I waved a hand in front of my face to dispel the putrid air. At least James’s roommates weren’t dead as I’d first thought. Even decaying flesh didn’t stink that bad.
Aw, the joys of college life.
“Dude,” a drunken guy with a Fairyland U T-shirt on said as he stumbled toward me. “The door was unlocked.”
Oops. “My bad,” I said with a wince. Blue’s PI rule number one—always check to make sure a door is locked first. Rule two had something to do with getting payment up front from any client with wings.
Drunk guy didn’t seem to notice my heartfelt apology. Or he just didn’t care. Either way, he took an unsteady swing at me, missing by a good six inches. The momentum of the punch carried him by me, and he ended up facefirst in the beer-can-filled bathtub. I might’ve felt sorry for the guy had his punch been aimed at someone else. But it wasn’t, so I did what any PI would do. I offered him a hand up.
As soon as his skin made contact with mine, he froze in electrified shock. Fifty thousand volts rushed through my body and into his. He jerked back, muscles constricting. I let go of his hand and he dropped
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