16

Violet Miller and the Great Fairy Debate

Apparently, the names of the Fae Café owners were Kate and Lily. The Lily one was nowhere in sight, but Violet watched Kate from across the café, studying the girl’s nonchalance about the memory-thieving brutes travelling around her, pouring coffee and coming out of the kitchen with steaming trays of baked goods that made the place smell amazing. Violet’s stomach growled.

The late afternoon sun melted over the tables, bleaching them gold after the most bizarre three days of Violet’s life. Every so often, Violet glanced at the door and considered making a run for it. But the white-haired whack-a-mole fairy popped up at random intervals throughout the hours like he was waiting for her to try. Like he wanted her to try.

She’d considered more than once that if her touch really burned them, she could probably get past him. She just wasn’t sure if she was in the business of hurting someone without a really good reason.

Though… seeing if Zorah was okay in that pebble-covered house felt like a pretty good reason.

The most annoying part of Violet being trapped here was that the person Mor was worried about Violet crossing was the very person she’d been studying for half a year. She probably knew more about the redhead guy than anyone—apart from Mor. It was the reason she agreed to take the secretary job. Because as strange as everything was, she wanted to catch the serial-attacker more than anything.

Violet startled when Mor’s phone rang in front of her, vibrating against the table. She looked around, wondering if one of the Master of Doom’s friends should answer it—in case it was official fairy/Doom business or whatever. But everyone was busy serving coffee, washing counters, and taking orders.

Violet grabbed the phone on the last ring and answered. “Hello?”

“Good evening. I’m Fil Selemini calling on behalf of The Sprinkled Scoop. I’m wondering if I can speak to whoever is in charge of The Fairy Post about coming to our station for an interview?”

Violet stood, her chair scooting out behind her. A few choice words punched against the inside of her sealed mouth. Shayne glanced over snoopily from where he hovered by the café door.

“Hello?” Fil said again in his thick, nasally voice that sounded condescending even over a phone. “I’m just calling as a courtesy—” Violet rolled her eyes, “—because getting an interview with us would be big exposure for you—”

Violet hung up the phone. She tossed it back onto the table and folded her arms. She would die before she let Mor’s considerably better and far more entertaining Fairy Post be heckled by The Sprinkled Scoop—which was definitely what Fil Selemini intended to do. Her finger tapped on her bicep as she began to pace.

A second later, she grabbed the phone again and punched in the number she knew by heart.

It rang a few times before one of the interns picked up. “The Sprinkled Scoop, how can I help you?”

It seemed they’d put Alice on the phones again, instead of giving her real journalist work.

“I’m calling from The Fairy Post to speak with Fil Selemini,” Violet said in a cool, even voice she hoped wasn’t recognizable.

“Of course. I’ll see if he’s available.”

In other words, “I’ll go see if he even wants to talk to you, and if not, I’ll come up with an excuse about how busy he is.”

Violet paced as she waited, her heels tapping over the floor. She almost walked right into Shayne’s chest when he appeared in front of her. His arms were folded. “I’m needed until tomorrow morning on a quick errand, Human,” he said. “I expect you to stay put. Dranian will be watching you closely.”

“Shh.” Violet put a finger to her lips. “I’m on a call.”

Shayne raised a brow. “For what?”

“For The Fairy Post.” She cast him a look that said, “What else would it be for?”

“Huh.” Shayne looked amused. “So, you really are his secretary. Queensbane, I thought he made that bit up.” He grinned.

“Hello, Fil Selemini here.”

Violet turned away from the fairy and focused all her attention on her journalist nemesis. “Hi, I’m returning your call on behalf of The Fairy Post. I apologize for the last call, but we’ve been experiencing some technical difficulties due to the volume of phone calls and emails we’ve been getting from our fans. I hear you’re interested in an interview?”

“Yes!” Fil sounded maliciously excited. “Who am I speaking to?”

Violet’s words caught in her throat. “The Secretary of Doom,” she decided. “I’m a little offended you didn’t do your research on our staff before calling us,” she added on the end.

There was a notable shuffle on the other end as Fil fumbled through an apology, and Violet smiled.

“That’s… quite the interesting job title,” Fil said, even though it was obvious that interesting was the last thing he felt it was. Just like any dull doorknob journalist with no imagination. “My boss and I are very curious about the writer of your paper. From what I can tell, there’s only one—”

“There are two now,” Violet stated. It was maybe a bit presumptuous to assume Mor would let her write articles for The Fairy Post, but he had said he wanted her to keep it alive. She hoped that meant she’d get to write.

“Ah. Two, then. Well, we’d love to interview them both. Is there a time that might work for The Fairy Post journalists to come to our station and do an interview for our online video channel? We’ll also have it featured on our blogs.” What he didn’t add aloud was, “And we’ll make sure we twist your words and write nasty things about you so no one wants to read your paper anymore.”

“Unfortunately, we only work with print,” Violet said.

“Wait… Seriously?” Fil wasn’t even hiding his annoyance now.

“But my boss is telling me to formally invite you to be interviewed by us,” she added.

There was a pause. “Well, we don’t normally get interviewed… Is there any chance I can speak to your boss directly?” Fil had the nerve to ask.

Violet took a deep breath and tried to let it out without blowing into the phone. “I assure you; this is what he wants—”

A hand came around her and lifted the phone from her fingers. Violet turned and shrank beneath the pair of cold, turquoise eyes glowering down at her. The guy put the phone against his pointed ear. “This is Mor, owner of The Fairy Post, mediocre writer, and terrible friend. How may I help you?” His voice was intimidating and authoritative, like he could convince the masses and become the city mayor overnight if he wanted. Or like he was the real boss around here, not the Kate and Lily people.

Violet’s mouth parted. She didn’t know if Mor would want her to snatch his phone back or if she should just let this happen. It wasn’t like she could take on this tall, muscular, turquoise-eyed fairy by herself. Her eye caught on his small metal name tag that said: CRESS.

Cress grunted into the phone in response to something. “Don’t be preposterous, you fool. Only the truly gifted can handle being on a human internet show. I would know,” he stated, and then, “We will interview you, or there will be no interview at all. You decide.” Cress handed the phone back to Violet.

Violet blinked as she slowly returned the phone to her ear. She cleared her throat before she spoke again. “If you’d like to come to our office, we’d be happy to feature The Sprinkled Scoop in our newspaper. With our own narrative, of course. The way you’re written into our articles solely depends on whether or not we like you,” she said. Her mouth found its smile again.

Justice.

Fil didn’t say anything for several seconds. “Uh… I’ll have to talk to my boss,” he finally spat out when he found his senses.

“Please do. I’ll be awaiting your call, Mr. Selemini.” Violet hung up. She inhaled and let the breath out slowly.

She was going to need a new dress and some awesome heels. If she was going to face her journalist nemesis and her former boss, she had to look like she was killing it in life.

“You’re welcome.” Cress turned and went back into the kitchen, flicking sugar off his sleeves.

Shayne untied his apron and hung it up in a narrow hallway by the door. “Farewell, pretty human. Don’t think that just because I’m not here, I won’t know if you step outside. Dranian will call me,” he warned. He cast a look toward the back of the café where the auburn-haired fairy came out of the stairwell. He returned a small nod like he was reporting for duty, and with that, Shayne left.

The moment the white-haired fairy disappeared down the street, Violet set her sights on Dranian. From the start, he’d been the quietest. The crankiest too, it seemed. Yes, he must have been the weakest link.

Violet approached him and grabbed her forehead. “I’m not feeling good,” she admitted. “I think I need my medicine.”

Dranian looked her up and down. “You need nothing, Human. Your rhythms are fine, and you’re lying off your human tongue.”

Violet braked her damsel in distress act. She dropped her hand from her forehead. “Okay, but seriously, I do have a condition that I need supplements for. I may be fine now, but in the morning, I’m going to get really desperate. Can’t you just take me to my house for one minute?”

The fairy only growled in answer.

Violet didn’t think she’d be able to sleep in one of the chairs by the fireplace, but she was miraculously out like a light the moment she flopped down into it. Whether it had been the day that had pumped her with adrenaline only to crash later, or the plushness of the chair, or the warmth of the fire on her toes, she’d gotten the best sleep of her life.

She woke up from a wild fairytale dream about a handsome mythological journalist that turned out to not be a dream at all.

“You’ve got to be joking,” she muttered to no one in particular as vertigo rushed in. She slapped a hand to her forehead and leaned forward on the chair. Haze clouded her thoughts, and her stomach squeezed, pain leaking through it and burning her insides. “I’m such an idiot.”

She’d had two options yesterday—stay with these weirdo fairies or run for the door.

She should have run for the door. Nothing was worth feeling dizzy and sick like this in the morning. She turned to shout at whoever was around. “Hey!” she called. “I need my supplements! It’s an emergenc—”

“If you want to wake the neighbourhood for no reason, keep shouting,” someone muttered.

Dranian sat on the opposite plush chair, reading a book.

“I’m not messing around this time. I actually really need to go home,” Violet tried.

Dranian shut the book, annoyance flickering across his dull expression. “I’ve realized. Something in your human body changed in the night,” he said. He sounded bored.

“I’ll die without it,” Violet promised. It might have been a bit of a stretch, but feeling like dying was almost the same as really dying. Sort of.

When he didn’t respond, Violet tried to stand. She gasped when her knees wobbled, and she teetered to the side. Someone caught her, and Violet’s gaze snapped up—her mouth open to warn that her skin would burn them… But it was the café owner, Kate.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kate shouted at Dranian. “Why are you being so mean? Just because you’re mad at Mor doesn’t mean you can let a person faint. Un-real!”

Dranian snarled a little. “Maybe if she faints, he’ll come back for her,” he mumbled, opening his book again. “Then we’ll actually get to see him.”

“Seriously, Dranian, if Mor finds out you let his secretary get hurt, he’ll flip.” Kate walked over and yanked the book out of his hand. She slapped it shut and lightly smacked him on the shoulder with it.

Dranian scowled. “You didn’t even put in a bookmark, Human! Now you’ve lost my page!” He yanked the book back. After a moment, his green eyes slid back to Violet. “Tell me where your human medicine is, and I’ll fetch it,” he stated.

Violet shook her head. “It has to be me. You’ll never find it.” And she needed to see Zorah.

Dranian huffed and lifted from the chair, cradling his book to his chest. “I wanted to read today,” he muttered. “Not accompany Mor’s human on a lacklustre stroll.” He stomped through the café, tossed his book on a table, and headed outside.

Violet dragged on her heels and headed after him in relief, using the tables for balance as she passed through them. “Thank you!” she called back to Kate.

“No problem. Don’t take his mood swings personally—he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet. He’ll be nicer after he does,” Kate said, but then she paused, seeming to think better of the statement. “Actually, he’s a bit of a fun-sucker with or without coffee to be honest,” she said. “Good luck finding your supplements.”

Violet forced a smile as she pushed outside into the warm morning sun. She’d forgotten she was wearing the knit sweater. Thankfully the day wasn’t blazing hot yet, but as soon as she could, she’d yank the sweater off. She was dizzy enough without the extra heat, and her skin was already a fairy-repellant machine—she was probably safer armoured in her own bare skin.

Maybe she’d ditch the fairy weirdo, too. Violet had a feeling Dranian would follow her into her house and drag her back to the café after she got her pills. And yes, she needed her supplements so she could think straight again, but mostly, she needed to go to the hospital and make sure Zorah was there for her shift and not passed out in the woods somewhere.

Minutes later, Dranian huffed when she couldn’t keep up. “Must I carry you?” The way he asked made it clear he really didn’t want to.

“I’m fine,” Violet lied. She took in deep breaths. Eventually, she took off her heels and walked shoeless on the Toronto street that was no doubt full of bacteria and contagious diseases.

Ditch the fairy.

Get the supplements.

Go to the hospital and find Zorah.

Violet replayed it in her mind so she wouldn’t forget as her brain fog turned into an overcast storm. She winced and rubbed her eyes, teetering a little and grabbing the side of a building as confusion rushed in and everything started spinning. No, she was not okay.

So, when she dragged her eyes up and saw a daunting redhead fairy standing in the middle of the road, she wasn’t sure if she was really seeing him or not.