CHAPTER 40
“Blue, what the hell are you doing here?” Peyton asked, his tiny face scrunched up with a frown so fierce I backed up a step. Someone had his wings in a bunch. And, for once, it wasn’t me. At least I didn’t think it was. “You must go. Now!” He flapped his wings for emphasis.
I waved away a cloud of fairy dust, inhaling a little too much for my comfort. My head started to spin and the walls seemed to shrink even further. I blinked a few times and the walls returned to normal, which was about three feet high. “Where’s your brother? He took off with Izzy about an hour ago. I need to find them,” I said when my senses returned. “Izzy! Clayton!” I yelled down the corridor.
Peyton glanced around, grabbed my arm, shocking himself in the process, and pulled me into a small—even by fairy standards—closet. A mop and dirty water bucket sat in one corner. The stench of bleach and mildew replaced the fairy dust in my nostrils. I stifled a sneeze, which sent a bolt of electricity rocketing through my body.
“It’s too dangerous for you to be here,” Peyton said, his eyes darting back and forth. “If they catch you . . .”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not going anywhere until you answer a couple of questions.”
He glared down at the small wristwatch on his arm and then back at me. “I don’t have time for this. I’m late as it is, and if I’m gone too long, they will get suspicious.”
“Late for what?”
“None of your concern.” His eyes scurried from the doorway to me. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“No.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time to play this game. You stay in here and keep quiet until I return and I will tell you whatever you want to know. Okay?”
I smiled. “Kick in a hundred bucks.”
“That’s robbery.”
I shrugged. “Consider it a small price to pay after you and your dumbass brother stiffed me for my finder’s fee.”
His lips thinned, turning his unappealing face two times less attractive. “We’ll make good on the check. I swear it.”
“Nuh-uh.” I moved to block the doorway.
He blew out a harsh breath. “Fine.” Reaching into his tiny wallet, he pulled out five twenties and handed them to me. “Happy now?”
“Ecstatic.” I pocketed the dough.
He motioned to the door. I took a small step to the side, leaving him enough room to squeeze by. He quickly pressed past, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. “Promise you’ll stay here.”
“You got it, my friend.”
He nodded and then disappeared down the corridor.
I uncrossed my fingers, following behind at a safe distance.
Fairy Central was a maze with hundreds of corridors and what I assumed was office space; again not a fairy in sight with the exception of Peyton in front of me.
He ran through the hallways as fast as his tiny legs could carry him, which I had to admit was a pretty good clip. I huffed and puffed after him, damning the pack of cigarettes I’d smoked last night.
Finally, he pulled to a stop at an ornate wooden door carved sometime in the previous century. All sorts of bizarre symbols filled the wood, including an image of a Tooth Fairy with pink wings. Behind the fairy was a deep, dark shadow.
Her Shadow.
Together they looked invincible, but something in the fairy’s eyes spoke of longing mixed with fear.
Peyton drew my attention as he tugged on the iron doorknob, pulling the door free. The sounds of cheering greeted him. At least I now knew where all the fairies were. The question now was why were they gathered and, more importantly, was Izzy somewhere inside?
The answer came soon enough.
“Long live the Tooth Fairy,” the crowd shouted.
Good luck with that.
“Long live Isabella Davis.”
Son of a bitch!