CHAPTER 48
I came awake with a start, unsure where I was, let alone who the woman on the bed snuggled next to me was. I peeled open a sandman-drenched eyelid and everything came rushing back to me in a flash. The Shadows had threatened Penelopee because of me. She had been so afraid, much too scared to leave the safety of my apartment last night. I’d offered her the couch . . .
How the hell had she ended up in my bed?
I peeked under the covers and frowned. I was naked except for a pair of gloves. So was the princess, thankfully minus the hand wear. Tiny scorch marks ran up and down her pale skin, like fingerprints at the scene of a crime. My stomach rolled and I considered throwing up, then decided against it at the last minute, settling on a loud groan instead.
I tried to remember anything after my fourth drink last night. Nothing came to mind except shame and guilt. I stretched, feeling every bone crack in my back. “I . . . ah . . .” I said, unable to look her in the eye. The room smelled of desperation and alcohol. Add in a bit of disappointment and we’d hit the one-night stand trifecta.
Penelopee blew the hair out of her face, which caused her to wince, and her already pale face to grow two shades sallower. “My head hurts.”
Tell me something I didn’t know. My own head felt like a balloon on the verge of popping. My stomach rolled again, threatening to burst from my throat.
Since I was usually a six or more soup cans of whiskey kind of guy, a total blackout felt like a bad sign, though it wasn’t nearly as bad a sign as the very rich, slightly charred, and disappointed princess staring at me as if I’d grown two heads.
I scanned my bedroom, searching for my pants. I located them bunched up in the corner. How they’d ended up there was a mystery, almost as much as how the hell I’d ended up in bed with one of my only clients. At least it wasn’t Mervin, who looked like the before photo in every men’s diet magazine. I sighed. There was a specific level in hell for PIs like me, just above politicians and ogres.
Rising from the bed, I cringed as the chilly morning air hit my bare bits. But before I could reach my pants my bedroom curtain parted and a very beautiful, pissed-off, pink-winged fairy stood in the doorway.
Izzy glared at me and then at the princess in bed next to me. Her mouth formed a perfect circle, but no sound emerged for at least a few seconds; then she unleashed. “You bastard!” she yelled in an ear-piercing screech. “You left me in jail to rot so you could hump your princess client?” I held up a hand for quiet. Not that I got it as she continued with her tirade. “How could you?”
Heat rose on my cheeks. “It’s not what it looks like,” I said, though I had a feeling it was exactly what it looked like. And it looked very much like I was a selfish prick who took advantage of a rich princess when she was afraid and vulnerable.
“It’s not?” Izzy snorted, letting me know exactly what she thought of my less than noble deed. “I feel so much better now.” She wrapped her arms over her chest. “And to think I was worried about you. I must be a fucking idiot.”
One of us was, that was for sure. I licked my dry lips, closing my eyes as my head pounded to a steady, much too loud beat. “How did you get out of jail?”
“I made bail. Like you did.” She crossed the room, giving me a hard shove in the chest. Blue sparks shot from my naked body and into her palms; nevertheless she didn’t flinch. Rather she pushed me again with greater force. “But I didn’t have to screw my benefactor after.”
Penelopee rose from the bed, the sheet wrapped around her naked body. “I . . . I’ll just go get dressed. . . .”
Izzy spun around, grabbing a red lace bra from the lampshade next to my bed. “You’ll probably need this,” she said, tossing the offending garment at Penelopee. It hit the princess in the face.
“That’s enough.” I leaped up, still naked, and seized Izzy’s arm, pushing her backward through the doorway as electricity sparked between us. Izzy panted with rage and possibly third-degree electrical burns.
I knew I was hurting her as her flesh fizzled under my touch, but I wasn’t able to stop. Her accusations had hit too close to the bone. Everything she’d said—about me, about my intentions, be they good or not—was true.
Once we reached the living room, I dropped her arm, wincing at the red marks on her skin. I swallowed a wave of guilt, replacing it with indignation instead. “Penelopee didn’t bail me out. I’m not sure who did, but it doesn’t matter. Penelopee was here when I got home last night. The Shadows had threatened her and she was terrified to go home.”
“And you, being such an upstanding gentleman, offered her a place to stay. A nice warm bed and an even hotter, electricity wise, bed partner. Is that it?” She gave a bitter laugh. “Now you’re her knight in shiny blue armor. How sweet.”
“Izzy, I . . .”
“You’re just like all the rest. Flash a pair of breasts and you turn into a drooling idiot.”
She had a point, I thought. A few seconds later I failed to see her first punch coming. One minute I was standing in front of her, unable to stop my gaze from wandering to her heaving breasts, and the next she’d popped me in the jaw with her tiny fist. I stepped back, more surprised than hurt.
I grabbed her hand as she pulled back to smack me again. Sparks sheared her delicate skin under my grip, but I couldn’t control myself. I chased her out my front door and into the dimly lit corridor.
Her eyes burned with the promise of imminent violence. “I’m warning you, Blue . . .”
I cut her off with a laugh, squeezing her hand even tighter. “Is that so? What are you going to do, Isabella?”
A stabbing pain sliced through my gut as I finished the sentence. I dropped Izzy’s arms, clutching my midsection. The warm rush of blood spurted through my fingers and my vision turned gray at the edges.
I staggered against the wall, trying to keep my balance. But it was hopeless. The pain brought me to my knees as darkness filled my vision. “Run, Izzy,” I ordered.
But she didn’t move. Couldn’t move, in fact.
Damien materialized into a solid form next to her, her arm clasped tightly in his. My blood dripped off the shiny blade in his hand. A blade now pointed at Izzy’s midsection.
“Leave her alone,” I said through bloody lips.
“Can’t do that. Never could.” He grinned, pulling her closer like a long-lost lover. He reached out, stroking her cheek with the back of his blood-soaked hand. She flinched.
I grabbed the wall, trying to stagger to my feet to save the Tooth Fairy. “Izzy . . .”
“Don’t you worry your pretty blue head,” Damien said. “I’ll take good care of Isabella for you.” He leered, smashing the heel of his very expensive boot into the side of my skull.