Fairytale Ambrosia (The Knead to Know Series Book 2)
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Authors: Liz Schulte
Fairytale Ambrosia
The Knead to Know Series
Copyright © 2016 by Liz Schulte
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
The two tiny cherub-like faces had been downgraded to a small article on the inside of the newspaper. They had been missing too long and public interest was fading. The boy and girl were stolen from their bedrooms in the middle of the night without a trace, from completely opposite sides of the city. The police thought the cases were unconnected. There was no reasonable explanation for why both houses had no signs of forced entry, though all the doors and windows were locked, or why there wasn’t even a hint of a viable suspect. The police may have been stumped, but I knew it had paranormal written all over it.
Of course, the police being baffled wasn’t surprising, given they were looking for a reasonable explanation for an entirely unreasonable problem. They didn’t know about the other world, the world I skated on the edges of. The Abyss was parallel to the human world and was home to every creature, being, and monster imaginable.
Why the divide, the secrecy? Well, humans didn’t always take the news that they weren’t alone in the universe well. I certainly hadn’t. I found out about the Abyss and promptly decided to become a vampire. Not my finest hour. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on my mood, the transition was stopped by a somewhat psychotic angel on a mission. Now I had the distinction of being the only half-vampire in the city, maybe in existence—which was its own problem.
But back to the kidnapping. The only reason I knew any of the details about the kids was because of Boone. Boone had been my carpenter when I was getting my bakery, Knead to Know, ready to open. But as I was beginning to discover, nothing in my life was ever coincidental. He also happened to be a psychic and he had a vision of a door suddenly appearing in a little boy’s bedroom and an old lady coming out of it. Boone came to me, a baker who was clearly not a hero, because I was the only person he knew who had any answers to otherworldly problem. Never mind the fact that if I was the only chance these poor kids had, they were doomed. I closed the newspaper and washed my hands.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried to help. I did. Desperately. When Boone first had the vision of the kid being taken, I did everything I could to find out who the child was, so we could warn his parents. I involved every paranormal friend I had in the city. We failed. We all failed and the child was snatched. The case was up to the authorities now, at least that’s what I kept telling myself. It was none of my business. If I’d wanted to be involved in things like solving crimes and catching bad guys, I’d had that chance—but I chose to be a baker. I chose to have a normal life. And that life I so desperately wanted couldn’t involve investigating missing kids. My cookies and cupcakes weren’t going to bake themselves.
The bread was raising and I looked at the ingredients on the counter for my latest invention: a cookie bar called Fairytale Ambrosia. The cookies would be equal parts buttery and sweet with hints of coconut, orange, and pineapple. At least, that was how I imagined they would taste, not that I would ever know. The vampire half of me killed all my taste buds, and now most food tasted like greasy coffee grounds sprinkled with dirt.
I spread the dough out on a pan and put it in the oven, before starting another batch. The name Fairytale Ambrosia was, perhaps, wishful thinking. In my head, people would come from miles around just to taste the perfection of my creation. In reality, I’d be lucky if all the ingredients complemented each other.
Ambrosia was supposed to be the nectar of the gods. It reportedly wiped away the years and granted mortals glorious immortality. Its fragrance was intoxicating. Athena gave it to Hercules when he was accepted into the pantheon of Olympic gods. It was quite a history for a cookie to live up to. My goodies couldn’t just be
good.
They needed to be divine.
I wondered if anyone told old Hercules about the fine print of immortality, though. Sure the vampire I found who was willing to change me told me some stuff. Mostly things I already knew: no aging, super strength, speed, aversion to light, and, of course, living forever. However, he didn’t add to the pitch, “Oh, by the way, enjoy never tasting food again.” And maybe that wasn’t a big deal for some people, but damn it, I loved food.
I pulled the first batch of cookie bars out of the oven, while they were still perfect, soft and slightly gooey. I drew in a deep breath, basking in the practically sinful smell. Tasting them might not be an option, but nothing stopped me from inhaling their decadence. At least the smell lived up to the name.
I glanced at the clock as I started on some cupcakes. Not even 3:00 a.m. yet. I still had plenty of time before Emery came in for her first shift. Since I’d opened the shop on Halloween, the stream of customers had been steady enough that taking on a part-time employee made sense on paper—but only time would tell. Emery was a college student, who had made a habit of spending every afternoon in one of my chairs, sipping coffee and studying. In some ways, she reminded me of myself before I became a half-vampire. She always had a smile and a serious sugar addiction. When she asked if I was looking for help, I barely hesitated.
I placed a couple pans of cupcakes in the oven and flipped on the timer.
“Not bad,” Phoenix’s raspy voice came from behind me. His teeth sank through one of the still warm ambrosia bars, eyes closing.
I didn’t bother asking how he got in. Jinn could pretty much go where they wanted, whether or not they were invited. He looked about the same as he always did, though maybe a little more tired, but still kind of hot in an alternative rock star sort of way. Dressed in black leather pants, a black sweater, and chunky black boots, no one would’ve guessed he was one of the most powerful jinn in the city. His eyelashes were so thick and dark, it was hard to tell if he was wearing eyeliner or if that was just the way he looked. Either way, it didn’t matter. It worked on him.
I crossed my arms over my pink polka-dotted aproned chest. “Not bad? Bite your tongue.” Just looking at him irritated me. One night he tempted me into going out with him, then he ignored me for months. Now he showed up like nothing happened—like he hadn’t screened my calls. I didn’t need people like that.
Taking a second bite, he winked at me. “This, I would resell my soul for.”
“Better,” I said. Despite my best efforts, a smile curled the edges of my mouth. Ambrosia for the win! “We don’t take souls here, but cash or any major credit card would be fine. Then you can be on your way.”
“Are you sure about that? Seems shortsighted, given your proclivities,” he said, licking his fingers as he stalked toward me. “How’s business been?”
Like he cared at all about my business, which was for the best. I didn’t want him or anyone from the Abyss involved in my bakery. This was supposed to be my sanctuary away from them. My last grab at a somewhat human life.
I backed away a couple steps, not because I was afraid of him, but because I was terrified about what I might do if tempted. Phoenix was one of the few people who knew what I was and how I fed and he never stopped pushing that button. More often than not by using himself as bait—but I hadn’t figured out to what end. It wasn’t that I didn’t recognize what he was doing; it was mostly that I had a hard time caring that I was being manipulated while it was actually occurring. Jinn were devious in a way that promised to bring all of your darkest desires to life. “Why are you here?”
“You’ve been trying to reach me.” He traced his forefinger softly down my cheek. “I thought you might be feeling a bit peckish.” He punctuated his sentence with a gentle tap on the end of my nose.
Had I been waiting around for him to deliver meals, I would’ve been half crazed by now. Luckily, I didn’t need him anymore. Finding dark souls to consume still wasn’t easy, but Boone had helped with that. With the exception of the kids, we had been able to stop most of his visions from coming true, which kept my supply of dark souls at a comfortable level. I poked a finger hard against Phoenix’s chest, backing him away from me.
A smiled danced across his mouth. “I hope there’s more where that came from.”
“You are an asshole. I called you in November. By December, when I still hadn’t heard from you, I had to ask
Holden
if you were alive. Do you know how embarrassing that was? He probably thinks I have a crush on you. Now you show up here,
in my kitchen
, like nothing ever happened. I thought I might have…” I clenched my jaw, not even wanting to say it out loud. I forced my shoulders to relax. There was no point in having this argument. Phoenix and I weren’t friends, nor did I have any interest in being his friend. “Glad to see you aren’t dead, now get out.”
“Were you worried about me?” His eyes twinkled as he once again closed the distance between us. “I’m flattered, but I had hoped you might have reconsidered my offer.”
He had said he would provide me with dark souls (the only thing that a half vampire can eat), but in return I would have to be his enforcer, bodyguard, hitman, whatever—he wasn’t exactly specific. Granted, the folks I’d take down would be bad people and the world would probably be better without them, but I wasn’t interested in being used—who was? That certainly wasn’t the life I was setting out to create. I had a very specific idea of how I wanted my life to be. Phoenix, no matter who he knew or what he was, didn’t fit into that picture.
Also, I was positive that any sort of arrangement with him would only end badly for me. If I let myself depend on him for my food, he would have that to hold over me. And if I got hungry enough, who knows what I would agree to do. And the fact that I still couldn’t remember what happened behind the red door the night he’d “helped” me only made the whole situation that much more suspicious. I had personally witnessed a jinni wiping away someone’s memory of an event. Phoenix could have done the same to me.
I shook my head. “I don’t want your deals. In fact, I don’t want anything from you.”
When I fed, I lost control, making it impossible to stop or think about anything other than my hunger. For all I knew, I killed every person with a dark soul behind that door, including him, that night. We may not have been friends, but that didn’t mean I wanted to hurt him or anyone. There was no other way to explain how great I felt for the next couple weeks and why it had taken longer for the effects to fade away than any other time.
“That’s not entirely true.” He inched close enough I could feel his pull like a magnet drawing me near. He tilted his head and leaned in, lips lightly brushing over mine, awaking the hunger inside of me. “You want plenty from me, just nothing you are willing to admit to…yet.”
“You can read minds now?” But his words echoed through my head. I was attracted, sure, but that didn’t mean anything. I was attracted to a lot of things that were bad for me. That didn’t mean I had to give in. I was done making bad decisions. I folded my hands behind my back so they couldn’t reach toward him.
“Besides, what do you have to lose? I could help you; you could help me. I promise you’ll find our arrangement both beneficial and satisfying.” He drew out the last word, making my mouth go a little dry. His fingertips trailed down my neck and I forced my eyes to stay open.
I cleared my throat. “What if I’m not convinced you could satisfy me?” I didn’t mean to flirt. It just slipped out before I could stop it.
The edge of his mouth flicked up. “Care to give it a test run? I’m confident I could change your mind.”
I stepped back. Distance was good. Distance would keep me from reaching out and tearing his shirt from his body so I could feel his skin and drain his soul. “Too bad we’ll never find out.”
He leaned back slightly, obviously surprised at my reaction.
That’s right, buddy. I don’t need your evil frenemies
.
I could almost see him change tactics, in just the way he held his body. “How did you feel after the last time I took you hunting? That should tell you everything you need to know about my ability to help you.” He trapped me between himself and the counter.
I clutched the counter hard enough that for a moment I worried I might dent it with my fingertips. “Have you heard of personal space?”
He laughed, but didn’t give an inch. Asshole. “If you don’t want me here, then you have all the power to move me.”
That was true. I was strong, probably physically stronger than him, but to move him I’d have to touch him. Touching him again would be bad. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Because I like you.” He leaned in again, lips practically touching mine. “You were perfect that night, everything I hoped you would be. Don’t you see how well we could work together?”
“No.” I wanted to kiss him and take a sip of the darkness that thrived inside of him. I had tasted his energy before and it called to me now. But if I gave in, I’d never know what happened that night. And not knowing was killing me. I could have done all sorts of terrible things. I had to know. “You remember that night pretty well.”
“It’s scorched in my memory.” His hand brushed against the vulnerable skin at my neck.
My breath caught in my throat, and I squeezed the counter harder as I fought the urge to draw from his touch. “Stop it.”
His hands dropped down next to mine. If I moved my finger a millimeter, I could touch him. He wasn’t playing fair. He never did.
I took a couple calming breaths before I could speak again. “So what happened?”