Wickedly Wonderful(78)
She looked out, but all she saw was an empty parking lot and a view of the sea across the road. Damn. Just for a moment, she’d thought that maybe Marcus had come to apologize. As if that was ever going to happen.
“There’s no one here, Chewie,” she said.
He woofed again, and knocked something over that had been leaning next to the door. It was a huge bunch of roses, orchids, and lilies in various shades of dainty pink and blushing peach. Not exactly her colors, but very pretty in a completely over-the-top kind of way. The overpowering odor made her stomach flip-flop, or maybe that was due to a momentary spurt of hope. Seconds later, though, she realized that Marcus wasn’t the flower-giving type.
“There’s a note,” Chewie pointed out helpfully. “Are they from the sailor?”
“Don’t be stupid,” she said, disappointment making her crabby. She looked at the note. “They’re from Kesh.”
“Oh. Swell.” Chewie scowled. “Put them back on the ground. I’ll pee on them.”
Beka rolled her eyes. “You will do no such thing. I told you he’s had some sort of falling-out with his family. He’s just lonely and needs a friend.”
“He needs to leave you alone. You’re busy.”
Beka ignored him and read the note out loud. If she didn’t, the dragon would just bug her until she told him what was in it anyway.
“Dearest Beka,” the note read. “These flowers are but a pale reflection of your beauty, but I hope you will accept them as a token of my regard. I have missed you these past days, and it is my fervent hope that you will honor me with your presence at dinner tonight. I will be on the beach at the usual place, eagerly waiting for you to join me and put the moon to shame with the glow of your smile. Yours, Kesh.”
Chewie made gagging noises. Loudly.
“Oh hush, you,” Beka said, secretly agreeing with him. She really wasn’t the flattery type either. Maybe that’s why she’d liked Marcus so much; he’d never tried to flatter her. Or said anything nice at all, for the most part. It was kind of restful.
“You’re not going to go, are you?” Chewie asked, following her back inside. “You have mysteries to solve and a bad guy to track down. You don’t have time to waste on Prince Not-As-Charming-As-He-Thinks-He-Is.”
Beka stood with the flowers in her hands, trying to figure out where she could put them where they wouldn’t stink up the place. Finally, she opened the door to the Otherworld and tossed them inside, before the smell could make her throw up. Some pixie would love them. Hell, considering the size of the bouquet, a whole tribe of pixies.
“I need to talk to him anyway about this renegade issue. He must know something about it.” She tried again to ignore that nagging voice that said he’d already admitted to working against the Human fishermen. A few childish pranks didn’t make him a villain.
* * *
A COUPLE OF hours later, there was a brisk knock on the door. Beka looked up from studying an ancient tome on magic and almost dropped the priceless relic on the floor when the door clattered open to reveal a plump woman with long, frizzy, gray-streaked hair and a brightly flowered tunic over puffy-legged tie-dyed pants. Multiple lengths of colorful beaded necklaces were tangled around her neck, and the scent of patchouli preceded her like a trumpeter announcing her presence.
“Hello, sweetie,” Brenna said, sailing into the room. “I hope you don’t mind me letting myself in, but it still seems strange to be knocking on my own door.” She gave a trilling laugh, looking around the place with a critical eye.
“Goodness, you’ve changed a few things around, haven’t you?” Pursed lips suggested a marked lack of approval. “Where are all my throw pillows? The place looks positively drab.”
Beka lowered the book with a sigh and tried to muster up some enthusiasm for this unexpected visit. Brenna had raised her, after all, and taught her everything she knew. Beka was pretty sure that meant she should be happy to see her old mentor. So why could she feel her stomach knotting and her shoulders hunching?
“Hello, Brenna. This is a surprise,” Beka said. “Last I’d heard, you were off enjoying your retirement in some tropical corner of the Otherworld.” She got up and went over to Brenna. They didn’t hug. For all her earth-mother exterior, Brenna didn’t do hugs. “Can I get you some tea?”
“Stand up straight, dear,” Brenna said, settling herself into a chair. “And yes, thank you, something herbal, please.”
“I hear nightshade is a nice herb,” a low voice growled from behind the couch. Chewie sauntered into view and gave Brenna a slit-eyed look. “How about some of that?”