now for the fairy of the hour . . .” The crowd quieted. “Please welcome the next Tooth Fairy ... Clayton Gibbs.” Applause filled the ballroom, drowning out my words. Izzy leaned in closer, but I waved her off with a “later” gesture. She nodded and gave me a small yet concerned smile.
Clayton puffed out his tiny chest as he took the stage. I had to admit, he looked very toothy in his tuxedo, dyed wings, and dust-infused swagger. Hell, if I didn’t know him so well I might’ve even voted for him. Good thing I didn’t have wings. No wings, no vote, which I was cool with.
“Thank you all for being here,” he began, “And for your support. We all know the difficult times we face . . .”
I grinned. Half those difficult times were a direct result of Clayton’s actions.
“I want you to know that I understand . . .”
I tuned out, watching the expressions of those in the crowd. Most of the winged ones were hanging on his every word, their eyes alight with promise. Those without wings listened too, but with less enthusiasm and more self-interest. Sadly, not everyone fell into that category. Clark, it seemed, only had eyes for Izzy. It was creepy. Every time I glanced over at the guy, he was looking our way, eyes burning with desire. I glared at him until he snapped out of it. He responded with a guilty smile.
“Crime is up . . . ,” Clayton was saying.
I rolled my eyes; pretty damn sure the crime rate, like those difficulties he’d referred to earlier, was, at least partially, the twins’ fault. Hell, I’d committed more than one crime while in their company and their employ. That was in the past, though—the not-too-distant one, but history nonetheless. My focus returned to Clayton’s speech.
“But I have a plan.” He paused, his gaze falling on Izzy’s face. A shiver of dread curled up my spine. “Our beloved Isabella Davis’s company, Davis Securities, has been hired to solve the crime of the century.”
Davis Securities? What the hell? Clayton had just cut me out of my own company. I blew out a harsh breath. I knew why he’d done it. The fairies hated me with a fiery passion, but they adored Izzy. Therefore, Reynolds & Davis became strictly Davis. I glanced over at Izzy to see how she’d responded, but all I saw was shock and rage in her indigo eyes.
I frowned. “What?”
“You took the case without consulting me?” she hissed under her breath. “How could you?” At this point I wasn’t sure what case she was talking about. After all, I’d taken any number of cases without a powwow. Then Clayton’s speech finally penetrated my brain.
“The missing fairies are Davis Securities’ and my own top propriety.” Clayton paused while the crowd applauded. “We will find the person or persons responsible and make them pay. You have my word on it.”
The little bastards had set me up. They couldn’t care less about a gaggle of missing fairies; they only wanted to seem like they gave a shit. With Izzy on the case, Clayton was all but guaranteed to win the election. “Izzy,” I began, but it was too late.
My pink-winged fairy had left the ball.
Not a glass slipper left in sight.
CHAPTER 22
A fter dinner I searched everywhere for Izzy, but she’d vanished, as had Clark Boyer. That bit of information gnawed its way into my brain, making rational thought impossible. Izzy was a grown woman, I reminded myself again and again. Free to do what and whom she pleased, generally with the exception of our employees. I wrapped myself in self-righteous rage instead of the vague sense of guilt I felt in not telling Izzy about the missing-fairies case.
Lucky for me, anger was my go-to emotion. I often thrived on rage, the kind that burned just below the surface. The nuns claimed my temper and subsequent electrical conductivity were a direct result of having been abandoned as a baby.
I knew better.
I was born a monster.
My mind flashed to Izzy lying naked in Clark’s stupid arms as energy
Clayton puffed out his tiny chest as he took the stage. I had to admit, he looked very toothy in his tuxedo, dyed wings, and dust-infused swagger. Hell, if I didn’t know him so well I might’ve even voted for him. Good thing I didn’t have wings. No wings, no vote, which I was cool with.
“Thank you all for being here,” he began, “And for your support. We all know the difficult times we face . . .”
I grinned. Half those difficult times were a direct result of Clayton’s actions.
“I want you to know that I understand . . .”
I tuned out, watching the expressions of those in the crowd. Most of the winged ones were hanging on his every word, their eyes alight with promise. Those without wings listened too, but with less enthusiasm and more self-interest. Sadly, not everyone fell into that category. Clark, it seemed, only had eyes for Izzy. It was creepy. Every time I glanced over at the guy, he was looking our way, eyes burning with desire. I glared at him until he snapped out of it. He responded with a guilty smile.
“Crime is up . . . ,” Clayton was saying.
I rolled my eyes; pretty damn sure the crime rate, like those difficulties he’d referred to earlier, was, at least partially, the twins’ fault. Hell, I’d committed more than one crime while in their company and their employ. That was in the past, though—the not-too-distant one, but history nonetheless. My focus returned to Clayton’s speech.
“But I have a plan.” He paused, his gaze falling on Izzy’s face. A shiver of dread curled up my spine. “Our beloved Isabella Davis’s company, Davis Securities, has been hired to solve the crime of the century.”
Davis Securities? What the hell? Clayton had just cut me out of my own company. I blew out a harsh breath. I knew why he’d done it. The fairies hated me with a fiery passion, but they adored Izzy. Therefore, Reynolds & Davis became strictly Davis. I glanced over at Izzy to see how she’d responded, but all I saw was shock and rage in her indigo eyes.
I frowned. “What?”
“You took the case without consulting me?” she hissed under her breath. “How could you?” At this point I wasn’t sure what case she was talking about. After all, I’d taken any number of cases without a powwow. Then Clayton’s speech finally penetrated my brain.
“The missing fairies are Davis Securities’ and my own top propriety.” Clayton paused while the crowd applauded. “We will find the person or persons responsible and make them pay. You have my word on it.”
The little bastards had set me up. They couldn’t care less about a gaggle of missing fairies; they only wanted to seem like they gave a shit. With Izzy on the case, Clayton was all but guaranteed to win the election. “Izzy,” I began, but it was too late.
My pink-winged fairy had left the ball.
Not a glass slipper left in sight.
CHAPTER 22
A fter dinner I searched everywhere for Izzy, but she’d vanished, as had Clark Boyer. That bit of information gnawed its way into my brain, making rational thought impossible. Izzy was a grown woman, I reminded myself again and again. Free to do what and whom she pleased, generally with the exception of our employees. I wrapped myself in self-righteous rage instead of the vague sense of guilt I felt in not telling Izzy about the missing-fairies case.
Lucky for me, anger was my go-to emotion. I often thrived on rage, the kind that burned just below the surface. The nuns claimed my temper and subsequent electrical conductivity were a direct result of having been abandoned as a baby.
I knew better.
I was born a monster.
My mind flashed to Izzy lying naked in Clark’s stupid arms as energy
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