CHAPTER 60
“Blue,” Penelopee said with a smile, the golden pliers in her hands gleaming evilly in the sunlight that filtered through my grimy office window. “So glad you could make it. This moment wouldn’t be the same without you.”
I strained against the dental floss binding my hands and feet, unable to move the smallest fraction of an inch. Damn Princess Scouts. Not only did they teach the fine art of peddling their cookies but those bitches could tie a hell of a knot.
Penelopee shook her head. “Don’t bother trying to melt it.” She held up a roll of floss. “The FDA ordered all floss to be flame resistant ten years ago. A pity for you.”
“Thanks for your concern,” I grumbled.
“That wasn’t why I bought this particular brand, though.” Ignoring my comment, she lifted the roll to her nose, inhaling deeply. “To me, it’s the most minty of all. Like flossing in the middle of a field of candy canes.”
I snorted. “I’m guessing you haven’t done much flossing, Penelopee. Not for many, many years.”
The smile fell off her face and she smacked me across the face with the back of her surprisingly strong hand. My head snapped back and, much to my delight, she did too from the resulting shock.
Her screech of pain lifted my spirits. Killing me, unlike the other fairies and Barry, would leave a lasting mark. I only hoped Detective Locks would put two and two together and eventually capture the princess before she killed a certain Tooth Fairy with pink wings.
“Jonas,” she yelled to the green-winged fairy, “bring me my apron. We don’t want to get any blood on my pretty dress.”
He did as she ordered, taking small tentative steps that spoke volumes. He wasn’t in cahoots with Penelopee; he was yet another victim, apparently under some sort of mind control.
Nope, scratch that.
Pea control.
Penelopee was using the pea in order to force Jonas to do her bidding. That’s why she’d taken it this morning. I hoped like hell she’d washed her hands after, especially if she planned on sticking her fingers into my mouth to rip out all my teeth.
I needed a plan before things got out of control. “You know, Penelopee, it doesn’t have to go this way. You can untie me, and I’ll forget all about your serial-killing ways.” I smiled my most innocent of smiles. “I thought we had something special. That night we spent together . . .”
I knew I’d failed when she snorted. “Oh?” she asked, waving the pliers in my face. “How special was it, Blue? Do you remember declaring your undying love for me?”
“Um . . .” I said. I’d said “I love you” in a pinch, most often when I wanted to continue any sort of amorous pinching, so my saying it to Penelopee sounded about right. Right up until the undying part. “You’re lying,” I said. Annoying a murderous princess wasn’t the smartest of moves. Then again, sleeping with said murderous princess in the first place hadn’t worked out all that well either.
“Am I?” she asked, pushing the pliers tips under my throat, into the soft flesh. I gagged. She grinned, pressing harder. “Men are all the same. Be they fairies or fools like you, Blue. Flash a nice set of wings,” she spun around, jamming the cheap green plastic wings from Barry’s shop in my face, “and you will do anything.”
“Given a choice,” I spit out a plastic-dipped feather, “I prefer the real thing over fake any day.”
She turned back to face me, her smile much darker. A shiver, and not the electrical kind, ran up my spine. Penelopee wasn’t fucking around. She was seriously disturbed and I was seriously fucked.
Stall, my mind whispered. As plans went it sucked, but I didn’t have anything better, so against my better judgment, I listened to my brain. I flipped through my mental handbook on stalling tactics, settling on the only one that might work on a serial-killing princess. “So, Penelopee,” I began, “where did you get those fabulous glass slippers?”