So Very Unfae

  So Very Unfae

  Riddler’s Edge Book Five

  by A.A. Albright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © A.A. Albright 2018

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

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  Website: https://aaalbright.com

  Table of Contents

  1. It’s a Weredog Thing

  2. Sneaky Sesame Seeds

  3. Spring’s Blooms in Winter

  4. How to Handle an OAP

  5. Some Formal Flirting

  6. The Great Sumatran Muffin Eater

  7. An Average Man

  8. The Great Gwendoline

  9. Hamming it Up

  10. Love’s Immortal Dream

  11. An Offer I Can’t Refuse

  12. The Time Has Come

  13. Baby, It’s Cold Inside

  14. You Can’t Trust a Cat, Can You?

  15. A Winter Wonderland

  16. Our Saviours Or Our Doom

  17. Two Crushes Down

  18. A Very Stubborn Brain

  19. Winery Code

  20. The Opposite of Impervious

  21. Let the Adventure Begin

  22. A Spell of Stormy Weather

  23. A Meal to Remember

  24. So Very Unfae

  25. Rudolph the Plain-Nosed Reindeer

  26. Sure He’s Gas Altogether

  27. The Key to His Mushy Heart

  1. It’s a Weredog Thing

  As I wound my way through the Riddler’s Edge Holiday Market, a tingle of excitement swept through me. It might have happened to sweep through me at the same time as a glass of mulled wine was being thrown down my gullet, but that’s irrelevant.

  The market was taking place in the carpark of the Fisherman’s Friend. The tavern was under new ownership, and the couple who had bought it had gone all out for the holiday season.

  ‘Why are you grinning like a maniac?’ asked Pru, pausing at a jewellery stall.

  I pointed to the huge tree at the centre of the carpark. It was festooned with the most joyously garish decorations – thousands of coloured lights, tinsel, baubles, and an enormous glittering star on top. A blow-up version of Santa and his elves surrounded the tree, and presents chugged towards them on a miniature train which zig-zagged through the market. ‘That. It’s not making me feel ill.’

  Pru picked up a pretty silver necklace. ‘Do Christmas decorations normally make you feel ill, then?’

  ‘Well, not ill exactly. Maybe a little maudlin. And a tad begrudging and bitter, maybe. You know – normal Christmas feelings. But this year … this year that tree and all the rest of it is making me feel …’ I searched for the right word. ‘ … happy?’

  Pru giggled and gave me a brief but lovely hug. ‘Well that’s good, isn’t it? In an ideal world, we’d all feel happy at this time of year. It certainly helps that the new owners of the Fisherman’s Friend are weredogs. All of those lights and elves and tinsel making you feel so happy? Well, it’s a weredog thing. They love Christmas, and they have the decorations to prove it. Now, come on – help me decide what to buy for my mam.’

  I searched through the amazing jewellery on display. My eyes strayed to a box filled with rings just like my own Ring of Privilege, designed to let non-witches access witch-controlled enclaves like the next town over. I didn’t need it these days, what with my power having finally worked its way free. Even so, I was reluctant to take it off.

  One or two humans were looking at the stall, too, but not one of them picked up any privilege jewellery. Sure, the Admitaz stones which provided the jewellery’s magic were a slightly snotty shade of green, but the jewellery itself was so pretty that you could almost ignore that. No, it was something different that kept the humans away from the privilege jewellery. Whatever that something was, it was the very same something which kept them from noticing all of the magic in this semi-supernatural town.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ I whispered to Pru. ‘Witches celebrate the Winter Solstice on the twenty-first, where they light big ceremonial fires, hold the Masked Ball and drink until dawn. Weredogs are crazy about Christmas, werewolves like to get in on both holidays and … I’m sure I heard that vampires have a celebration of their own on the twenty-first, but … your family don’t go in for that?’

  She laughed. ‘Yeah, it’s complicated.’ She picked up a bejewelled cat collar. I could tell she was thinking it would look nice on Fuzz.

  I quickly shook my head. My familiar did not like collars and, even if he did, I doubted he’d go for a bejewelled model. Maybe something with studs or spikes. Sure, he was tiny, cute and ever so fuzzy, but in his mind he was the coolest cat in town.

  ‘You don’t think he’d like it? Hmm. Maybe not.’ Pru placed the collar back on the stall. ‘I’ll just get him some fancy food.’

  ‘Probably best,’ I agreed. That’s what I was getting him – well, that and yet another cat bed he’d never sleep in, seeing as he preferred to hog mine. ‘So tell me about the way most vampires spend the twenty-first. I’m curious.’ I really was. I was like that annoying kid at school – the one who was genuinely interested in learning. Actually, I had been that annoying kid in school, too. I’d been known as Little Miss Asks A Lot in one of my schools. It was infinitely nicer than my Little Orphan Aisling nickname.

  ‘Okay, so you know how witches celebrate on the twenty-first because the shortest day is passing, and there are longer days ahead?’ Pru began. ‘Well traditionally, our kind mourns on that day instead – it harks back to the time before we adjusted to daylight. Obviously those ancient vampires would have liked the shorter days and longer nights.’

  ‘Ah.’ I thought it best not to ask her if those ancient vampires also lived in nests and ran in fear from garlic. ‘So … why doesn’t your mam go in for this vampire opposite-Solstice thing, then?’

  Pru almost spat out the last of her mulled wine. ‘Opposite-Solstice? Yeah, don’t call it that in front of a vampire again, ever – unless you fancy being cornered by a bunch of old-school nutters saying, “Ve vant to drink your blood.” There are a few names, but older vamps will usually call it the Dark Night. And as for why Mam doesn’t like us to celebrate the Dark Night … well, her name means Christmas.’ She stopped talking momentarily, while she tried a holly-shaped clip in her long dark hair. ‘She loves this time of year. She even goes to midnight mass in the local church – and before you ask, she doesn’t burn when she enters the building. Christmas was when she was born. It was also when our family was reborn if you know what I’m saying. It’s a whole thing for her.’ She dropped the hair-clip. ‘And that’s why I’m now going to stop ogling things that I want, and pick her out an amazing present. She won’t let us buy her two gifts, so the combined Christmas and birthday pressie has got to be perfect.’

  As Pru mentioned the whole birthday aspect, another tingle ran through me. My birthday. In a few days’ time, I’d be celebrating my actual birthday on the actual day. I’d only recently discovered that I was born on December twenty-first, which meant that I now knew, without a doubt, that I was about to turn thirty.

  I’d done a pretty bang-up job of pretending I didn’t care about being an abandoned baby. I’d fooled just about everyone but myself. And now … now I didn’t even have to fool me anymore. I could finally admit that I had been just a little bit sore about not knowing who I was, or why I’d be
en left at that hospital all those years ago. I mean, I could hardly blame my parents anymore – not now that I knew they’d spent the last thirty years trapped inside a broom and a cane.

  Once I managed the easy-peasy feat of rescuing them from those wooden prisons, then I was finally going to have a family Christmas – the sort of Christmas I had secretly craved my whole life long. And if that feat wasn’t quite so easy-peasy as I hoped … well, I wasn’t going to let myself think that way. I had to free my parents.

  ‘I think she’d like that one.’ I pointed to a necklace with a large, star-shaped pendant. Nollaig liked bold jewellery almost as much as her daughter, and the bright shining star would look amazing against her long black hair.

  ‘Perfect,’ said Pru. ‘I’ll take this one, Lassie.’

  The stallholder grinned. ‘Good choice.’

  ‘I know you, don’t I?’ I asked.

  Lassie smiled. ‘I live in Greg’s building.’

  ‘That’s right. And you go out with that gorgeous Wayfarer guy – Captain Finn Plimpton.’

  Her face reddened, and she smiled. ‘He is gorgeous, isn’t he? I’m really looking forward to our first Christmas together. Well, I knew him last Christmas, but we weren’t a couple back then. He’s coming to dinner with me at the Water Bowl, and he’s let me decorate his flat for him too, and …’

  I let her talk about her handsome and amazing boyfriend for a while more, and when she finally paused for breath, I said, ‘I think I’ve seen you at the Riddler’s Cove market, too. Must be exhausting, running stalls in two markets?’

  Lassie laughed. ‘This time of year I run stalls in any market that’ll have me. It’s hard work running between all the stalls, plus my online shop, but I have to pay for the decorations somehow.’ She cast a longing glance towards the enormous tree I’d recently admired. ‘If I could fit something like that into my flat, I would. Some people say weredogs go a little over the top with our decorations. But they’re just being miserable.’

  She talked about her boyfriend for another few minutes, then she packed up Pru’s purchase, and we moved along, picking up more presents for our friends.

  ‘So we’ve gotten stuff for pretty much everyone now. Except that one super special someone. What about Dylan ?’ she asked

  I felt my cheeks turn red. I was experiencing a lot of firsts this year. As well as the prospect of getting my parents back, this would be the first time I had a boyfriend for Christmas. Sure he was a hands-off boyfriend for the moment, but we were most definitely together.

  ‘I have no idea what to get him,’ I admitted. ‘He told me he doesn’t need anything.’

  ‘What he needs isn’t the point, is it?’ Pru pointed out. ‘It’s what he wants. And maybe you have already given him the best present of all. You and Florence and Ronnie are close to finding a workable cure for his dayturning virus. He’s going to owe you a mighty fab present in return for that.’

  I poked about at a stall filled with jams and marmalades. ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘If it all works out.’

  Pru moved closer. ‘Of course it will work out. But … I don’t know how to ask this politely. Why won’t Dylan just … y’know?’

  ‘Drink my blood?’ I snorted out a laugh. ‘Have you met Dylan Quinn? He never wanted to be a vampire in the first place, so he’s not going to drink from me – even if it would prove that fae blood cures vampirism. He’s happy to wait until the trials are complete. Which might just well be tomorrow, as a matter of fact.’

  She looked like she was about to ask a follow-up question, but her stomach rumbled so loudly that we both burst out into a fit of giggles instead. I pointed at the tavern. You could just about see its thatched roof through the sea of Christmas trees and inflatable Santas. It was lunchtime, and it looked like half of the town had decided to spend their break either shopping in the carpark, or eating in the tavern. There were tables set up just outside the doors to cope with the overspill, and a man I recognised was rushing around, serving lunches.

  ‘Isn’t that Edward?’ asked Pru.

  ‘Seems to be,’ I said. I knew that Edward had spent this morning on a big cleaning job at a broom factory, and he was coming in to clean the Daily Riddler office that afternoon. I sincerely hoped he was going to take a break before then. As we approached him, I smiled and said, ‘Hey Edward. I didn’t know you were working here as well.’

  He nodded his head into the tavern. ‘Marley and Lola have given me some extra work for the season. Got to pay for all the decorations somehow.’

  Lassie had said just the same. How much did weredogs spend on decorations? ‘Well, could we have two of the Christmas sandwiches?’ I knew Pru would want just the same as I did. We’d eaten a lot of turkey and stuffing sandwiches in the past few days, and we still wanted more. ‘And some mince pies and coffees, please?’ I asked. ‘Oh, and I promise you we’ll leave a very nice tip.’

  ‘Milk and sugar in your coffee, as usual, Ash?’ Edward asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  ‘You know me better than that,’ I said, grinning back at him. My aversion to coffee served any way but black was now well-known amongst the staff of the Daily Riddler. Every time someone made me a coffee, they would joke that they’d put in lots of milk and sugar, just the way I liked it. It had gone from being funny, to not-so-funny, to mind-blowingly annoying. Now that it was the holiday season, though, everything was a joy to me, and even a well-worn joke was hilarious once more.

  Edward ran off, smiling, and Pru and I took a seat. I rubbed my hands together to warm them up. The local choir were singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas in a corner of the market, but I decided to save Pru’s ears and not sing along. Once again, the choir had conveniently forgotten to tell me when and where they would be singing. It was clearly an oversight on their part. I would have added some much needed comedy (or possibly horror) to their carolling.

  Our food arrived, and we wolfed our sandwiches down in under a minute. The new owners were vegan, like most weredogs, and although they offered an enormous selection of plant-based goodies, they’d added a few meaty items to their menu, too.

  ‘So how are the new-style lessons going?’ Pru asked, rubbing her stomach happily. ‘Are you nearly ready for the Solstice?’

  ‘You’d know if you ever stuck around,’ I said with a sly smile. ‘But for some reason, you always seem to mysteriously disappear whenever Brent and Greg pop over. Which they’ll be doing this evening, by the way. After dinner. Matter of fact, I think Greg said he might join us for the meal.’

  Pru sighed. ‘I’m not avoiding Greg. I’m just … busy. And now that I think about it, I do have plans for this evening.’

  Sure she did – plans to avoid her destiny anyway. Pru had seen a vision of what the future would bring if she ever revealed her feelings to Greg. She had told me it would end in tragedy, but she wouldn’t elaborate. I was hopeful that they could get together and somehow manage to avoid said tragedy. I was hopeful about everything, lately. My optimism was probably annoying to everyone around me, but I just couldn’t help myself.

  Even though I was already stuffed, I bit into my mince pie. It tasted divine. I spotted Lola serving at a table near us, and I gave her a thumbs-up. She shook her head and said, ‘Nothing to do with me. Marley made the mince pies today – but I’m glad they’re going down so well!’

  I was just taking my second bite when the noise picked up at a nearby table.

  ‘Dear Dracula!’ exclaimed Pru. She stood up and ran, and I followed suit. There was a man just a few tables from ours, writhing on the ground. Pru paused halfway there, her face ashen. ‘It’s too late,’ she said. ‘He’s already dead.’

  2. Sneaky Sesame Seeds

  When Pru said a person was dead, they were most definitely dead. Now was not the time to be envious of her vampire superpowers, though. Instead, I rushed towards the area. I didn’t need to pull out my press pass in order to make my way to the centre of things – everyone in town knew by now that, if there was an
ything exciting or horrific going on, I was the person most likely to butt right on in and make it my business.

  Of course, there was someone else who liked to make things his business – the local garda detective, and the man of my dreams, Dylan Quinn. My stomach leapt at the sight of him. His black hair reflected the many lights and baubles in the area. All of that colour probably should have made him look like a deranged clown, but instead it made him look like … well, like a guy I really wished I could kiss.

  The healer, Shane Moore, was with him. He was good looking, too, and also an incredibly nice guy, but I didn’t want to kiss him. Unfortunately for me, the only person I was attracted to was a moody, dayturning vampire.

  ‘This is a doctor,’ said Dylan to the crowd. ‘Can you all stand back and let him do his work?’

  Technically, he wasn’t lying. Shane was a doctor, and had even worked as a forensic pathologist in the human world at one time. These days, though, he worked as a healer for the supernatural police force known as the Wayfarers. It was one of supernatural life’s little quirks – even though Shane usually worked on bodies that were long past capable of being healed, we still called him a healer.

  As Shane bent to examine the dead man, I noticed that he and Dylan both had shopping bags with them, and as they laid them aside to check out the body, I noticed an awful lot of brightly wrapped presents sticking out of Dylan’s bags. For some reason, the thought of Dylan shopping seemed incredibly strange to me. He seemed too grumpy to shop. He seemed too grumpy to do almost anything, except for stand around glowering.

  Marius, the town’s postman, stepped forward. ‘We were with him when he died, Detective Quinn,’ he said.

  ‘Oh? Did you know him?’ questioned Dylan.

  Marius shook his head. ‘Never met him before in my life. The place was so busy that me and Mossy asked him if we could share his table.’ The local tractor salesman, Mossy Burke, gave Dylan an awkward wave.