Thrift Store Trolls, page 24
part #1 of Flea Market Magic Series
As a natural-born werewolf, I shouldn’t blink twice about this type of thing. Didn’t I shapeshift during the full moon? Hadn’t I spent my childhood having sleepovers with fairies? But the hairs on the back of my head stood on end. A new scent crossed my nose.
Was that pumpkin spice?
I followed the scent toward the new doorway, but I took my time. After all the adventures I’d experienced, especially with a goblin boss like Bill, I needed to protect myself.
Beyond the exit, I didn’t find an office but a short hallway leading outside. A grassy path led to a dock out to the river. I expected to see lights from homes and businesses dotting the opposite bank, but I had a far crazier view. At the end of the pier sat a late-twentieth-century, two-story paddleboat. Damn, it was beautiful. I’d learned about them during a history course back in college. Thin lines of smoke rose from a double chimney, while lanterns scattered along the second-story iron railing cast an eerie burnt-orange glow.
The rough wood yawned as I made my way down the dock. Fireflies in my path darted out of the way. The pumpkin-like scent strengthened as I drew closer.
A ramp at the boat’s bow provided passage to the Main Deck. Before I could venture inside, a woman materialized in front of me.
“You must be my new clerk.” The woman, with tightly coiled, chartreuse hair and skin a rich shade of almond, stood no taller than my shoulder. Strange, tiny lights sparkled in her hair. She pursed her full lips and assessed me with half-closed lids. I shivered. My new employer wore a long black peplum top and midnight-blue leather skirt. Her feet were bare. The wind off the river tugged at the trail bottom of her top, but I couldn’t see the end, only that it disappeared like the smoke off the chimney.
“I am.” I added strength to my voice. “I’m Natalya Stravinsky. I was told to report here.”
She flicked her fingers to beckon me to follow. We walked down the Main Deck, passing open doorways into the first floor’s interior. I peeked through each door to find more eclectic inventory, like ceramic pipes and delicate carved birds, stored in glass displays. “I’m Mademoiselle Midnight, and the VIP section of my storefront is called the Midnight Barge.”
“Looks nice.” I appreciated anything shiny.
“The goblin told me you’re too efficient and I’d be in great hands, but…”
“But?”
“I don’t trust men or monsters.”
I gave her a nod thinking of Aggie’s words. “Trust should be earned.”
She strode past a shimmering terracotta ladle lying in the middle of a red velvet pillow. Vivid depictions of a Greek battle on the side caught my eye. “The Daylight Dame and I are new to town, but I’m not new to selling. A couple of months ago, I paid a large sum to buy this shop from a human to capitalize on the supernatural traffic She Who Always Walks the Path brings.”
Lovely, another opportunist. My sister-in-law Karey, along with her aunt, Mevelyn, had warned me about them.
“Her path hasn’t changed for the last two thousand years,” Mevelyn had said. “We must know if other powerful beings are proceeding her. Those leeches are dangerous.”
Just thinking about the wood nymph pushed me to a dark place I didn’t want to be, so I focused on my new boss. I’d think about what happened between Mevelyn and me on another day.
Finally, we reached the steamboat’s stern. More glass displays and pedestals with ceramic rare goods formed a U-shape in this open area. Beyond that, the paddle wheel sat silent. All around us, translucent figures shifted from one item to another. I squinted and waited for Bill’s enchantment to kick in, but these wisps of smoke and light either had no true form or I’d encountered something new.
One murky gray apparition swept past me. When it brushed against my shoulder, icy shards nipped at my skin.
That was never a good thing.
Focus on the job, Natalya, I reminded myself.
I switched to familiarizing myself with the Main Deck layout. A set of stairs to my right descended into dark waters, while another set led to the Hurricane Deck above.
“What’s down there?” I could’ve asked how come the magical ship hadn’t sunk yet, but why bother?
“There’s a submerged floor below the Main Deck for water spirits, but since you can’t hold your breath…we’ll let that area go for now.” The way she eyed me while she added “for now” meant I might need to sprout gills this week.
“And upstairs?”
“Off-limits. You have no business roaming around the Boiler or Hurricane Decks.”
Fine by me. Less madness to manage.
Mademoiselle Midnight ended my tour with an introduction to the ancient embossed copper cash register nearby. Her fingers caressed the large black buttons ranging from no sale up to fifty dollars, and the machine clicked in response. I admired the ornate fleur-de-lis and delicate swirls along the top and sides. A polished mahogany base glinted from a nearby railing lantern.
“Pay attention, Naomi,” she said sternly. “I only want to show you once.”
I opened my mouth to correct her, but shut my trap while she flew through the sequence of processing a purchase.
Read the price tag.
Say the price, no negotiation. No, really—none.
Click the appropriate button. Wait for the ding.
Package the item in one of the black boxes stacked near the paddle wheel.
Seemed easy enough.
I filed the instructions away in the Vault of Job Satisfaction. Now that I knew what I needed to do, I decided to do a sweep along the Main Deck, but my manager blocked my passage.
“One more thing, Nancy.” Her smile stretched to unnatural lengths. “My dearest sister, Dayla, fought me at every step to come here. My success hinges on profits and performance. If you interfere with my plans, I’ll eat you.”
My breath caught. “Excuse me?”
The relaxed features on her delicate face spoke volumes. She was dead serious. Her softened expression slipped into a honey-warm smile as she glanced around me to peer at the dock.
“We have distinguished customers arriving,” she whispered. “Greet them well, Nina.”
I opened my mouth to correct her yet again but then shrugged. I had to do my job well first, then figure out how to get through this agreement without ending up as her supper.
Two lines of ten fairies followed a single one. The ladies strolled up the ramp and joined us. The fairy in front wore garments boasting of her station and wealth. While her companions were in light blue summer dresses, she was dressed in a tailored A-line dress with a pink cardigan. Her skin glistened as if dew formed along her neckline. A single poppy adorned her pinned-up black hair. They all smelled of lilies about to bloom and spring rain after a downpour.
When she passed us, my employer gave her a curt nod and I did the same.
“Good evening, Lady Ophelia,” Mademoiselle Midnight said. “What a pleasant surprise to have a member from the Spring Court visit my store. May I help you find anything this evening?”
Lady Ophelia sniffed. “Just browsing through your rare goods before the Summer Court soils your boat with their stench.”
My manager gestured for the lady and her entourage to explore. When I didn’t move to join them, the demon jerked her chin their way.
Jeez. Did she think they planned to steal something? I had yet to learn about the merchandise. How could I help anyone? While I scurried to accompany them through the first room, I scanned each product sign below their respective displays.
Cracked Pan’s Flute, read one.
Queen Me’Hitan’s Pleasure Pipe, read another.
I didn’t want to see what that was and hurried to catch up.
Right off the first room, Lady Ophelia stopped here and there, but I’d seen shoppers like her before. They glanced about as if they didn’t care—but I fixed my gaze on Lady Ophelia’s light gray eyes. She’d lingered in front of a set of arrowhead clay molds, even sidled toward the center display with two urns circling each other. With each stop, her eyes flitted to a simple whistle resting on a crimson silk pillow. It was lovely and had a tiny pawprint on the side.
From across the room, I read the Russian script.
“Cobachee Svistok Tserbera,” I whispered.
Why did she want Cerberus’s Dog Whistle? Calling a three-headed hellhound never sounded like a good idea. I’d rather unleash Uncle Boris’s God-awful cologne on the masses. Maybe the whistle had other uses.
“My lady, is there anything you’d like to see?” I inched toward her. “The svistok, perhaps?”
She sniffed again, and her ladies-in-waiting parted for her to see me.
“It looks beautiful.” As her grin grew, her floral aroma switched from lilies to fragrant roses. “Could I hold it—”
“The whistle isn’t for sale,” Mademoiselle Midnight said from behind me. Her pumpkin spice scent flared shortly after.
Damn, having these creatures sneak around me would murder my anxiety. I glanced over my shoulder to see my employer right outside the exit.
The fairy’s smile wilted. “Then why have it out in the open to tempt your patrons, Ms. Midnight?”
“Oh, it’s for sale,” the night demon said smoothly. “But not for you.”
Surprise briefly touched the attendants’ faces as Lady Ophelia’s shoulders stiffened. “I’ll pay double.”
“No.” The night demon folded her arms.
Lady Ophelia drew a deep breath before she spoke. “My court is spending the season in Manhattan. Not long after we arrived, a predator made its presence known.”
“Is it hunting you through the aisles of Saks Fifth Ave?” Mademoiselle Midnight’s dark eyes flashed with amusement.
“New York City can be as deadly as the Old Lands,” Lady Ophelia said. “No matter the danger, I refuse to die without striking back first.”
The night demon chuffed. “Why bother? Return to the Old Lands.”
“And sit in the heat with those stuffy bitches from the Summer Court? Or maybe we should bow before the autumn ladies or watch the Winter Court wither away?” Lady Ophelia’s soft smile veered to a sneer. “I prefer the fragile humans and their simple pleasures.”
The spring fairy glanced at me as if she expected me to intervene. “I’m the customer. You can’t speak on my behalf?”
“I’m sorry, my lady,” I said. “The management has the final say.”
The searing glare she threw at me could’ve burnt a rack of lamb. I’d met many frightening fairies before, but I’d never encountered a high-ranking, disgruntled fairy customer.
With a turn of her heel, Lady Ophelia escaped through another exit. Her entourage stomped after her.
Seeing a customer’s retreating back rarely bothered me. She wouldn’t be the first or the last pissed-off patron. I observed her departure to the dock with a healthy space between us. Normally I didn’t care—hadn’t she said the problem was in New York? That was an hour and a half away. Just over fifty beautiful miles of space. And yet, I knew based on past experiences that distance didn’t matter when weird shit always found a way to my doorstep.
Mademoiselle Midnight materialized again right next to me. I was ready this time. She stiffly lit a half-used cigarette.
“Guess she won’t be signing up for our Frequent Buyer Program.” She drew in a deep drag, but she never exhaled the smoke.
“You ever encountered a pissed-off fairy, Natalie?” she added. “I’d be careful. The courts hold grudges like no other.”
* * *
Want to keep reading? Check out DECEPTIVE DIME STORE DEMONS!
Acknowledgments
My journey with Natalya Stravinsky has come a long way since 2011. Yep, you read that right. I came up with Natalya’s character almost ten years ago. I was reading a medical journal and came upon an article about obsessive compulsive disorder and the treatment plans. Yeah, I know, light reading. My writer brain sparked and I asked myself the question: what if a werewolf had OCD?
Since that fateful first story sold to Del Rey and Random House, I have had many adventures with Nat. The one author who has been there since the beginning was Sarah Jude, my partner-in-crime who helped whip me into shape. You are still the best Grammar Chick ever, Sarah, and I hope to be as awesome as you someday. I also have to thank Yasmine Galenorn for her encouragement. You are a source of light in the dark, Yasmine.
Thanks also to Nam Nguyen, my content editor, and MK Books Editing for helping me craft a better story. I’m so grateful you joined me for the ride!
Also by Shawntelle Madison
Coveted Series
Collected (Prequel Novella) #0.5
Coveted #1
Kept #2
Pocketed (Novella) #2.5
Compelled #3
Cursed (Collection of Short Stories)
Flea Market Magic Series
Thrift Store Trolls #1
Deceptive Dime Store Demons #2
Lowdown Pawn Shop Leprechauns #3
Heroes Run in Packs Series
Hadley Werewolves
Windham Werewolves
McGinnis Werewolves
Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Bitter Disenchantment
Repossessed
Taming the Viking’s Dragon
At Your Service Series
Bound to You
Surrender to You
About the Author
Shawntelle Madison is a Web developer who loves to weave words as well as code. She’d be reluctant to admit it, but if pressed, she’d say that she covets and collects source code. After losing her first summer job detasseling corn, Madison performed various jobs, from fast-food clerk to grunt programmer to university webmaster. Writing eccentric characters is her favorite job of all. On any given day when she’s not surgically attached to her computer, she can be found watching cheesy horror movies or the latest action-packed anime. Shawntelle Madison lives in Missouri with her husband and children.
Shawntelle Madison, Thrift Store Trolls
