The Tynder Crown Chronicles, Season One: Episode One: The Tynder Crown Chronicles (The Tynder Crown Chronicles, A Novella Series Book 1) (9 page)

“LOOK, YOU LITTLE WEASEL, YOU either meet us at your place, or I’ll report back to The Council that you made a false accusation against one of the most successful men in the city. I’m sure they would love to throw the book at you for trying to put one of the richest Fae in the world in the hot seat,” I’m nearly shouting into the phone.

Terg is still sleeping at my place. It’s only thanks to Piper’s keen questioning and organizational skills that she got pertinent information from him, such as his cell phone number and address. But the address he gave us was bogus. When we knocked on the door, a lovely family answered and seemed very confused.

“I told you, I’m not leaving this place until you solve my case. Did you arrest that slimy bastard?”

“I’m not joking around here, you little turd. Where do you really live?” I demand, ignoring him.

“Do you need me to talk to him?” Piper asks nervously, pacing back and forth in front of me.

“I’ve got this,” I say, covering the receiver.

“Fine, I’ll give you the right address, but I don’t see what good it will do. I already told you who took my stash.”

“Address, now, toad!”

“515 Orchard Lane, on the south side, over by Susie’s Diner.”

“I know the place,” I answer.

“Don’t touch any of my—” I hang up the phone before he can finish his statement.

“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing my jacket and rushing out the front door of Josiah’s office. Piper scurries after me, and I hear her locking the door as I flag down a cab.

“Where are we going?” she asks, panting as she moves in next to me.

A dingy, pale yellow cab stops in front of us. I lean down and see a very furry-looking man behind the wheel. I stand up and look back at Piper. “Jesus, are all cab drivers Fae?”

“Most cabbies are, yes.” She shrugs as if it’s common knowledge.

We climb in, and I instruct the driver where to go. Turning to Piper, I explain my logic, “Obviously Terg has some sort of vendetta against Walter Trunkwater. We need to go back to the scene of the crime, the place where the treasure was stolen.”

“Hey, are you guys working on a case right here, in my cab?” the driver asks.

I roll my eyes and grumble in a disgusted tone, “Shut up and drive, all right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers swiftly. It’s unsettling to me that when I bark orders at a complete stranger, they actually listen to me, rather than tell me to go to hell. I’m not sure if I like it or if it completely weirds me out.

“So what exactly are we looking for?” Piper asks, glancing sheepishly at the driver, then back in my direction.

“I don’t know, maybe there was never even a treasure to begin with,” I think out loud.

“Why would Terg lie?”

“I have no idea … That’s a good question,” I answer, huffing and flopping back on the filthy upholstered seats. A cloud of dusts rises up into the air, and we both cover our mouths in disgust.

“One thing is for certain,” I continue, “it doesn’t matter if there’s a treasure or if there never was, Terg is not a reliable source of information.”

“So what’s your plan?” she asks.

“You still don’t know me very well, do you? I don’t do plans,” I inform her, shaking my head.

She grimaces. “You know, you could try being a little nicer to people. I’ve found the nicer you are, the more likely they are to cooperate.”

“How about you do it your way, and I’ll do it my way,” I suggest. Pulling out payment for the driver, I wait for the car to come to a stop, then shove it through the little box, sling open the door, and jump out.

I peer around at our surroundings. There is a club over on Vine I used to frequent with an ex-boyfriend. Looking at the filthy, trash-lined streets, I suddenly remember why I stopped coming here after we split. “Are you sure this is safe?” Piper asks, moving in close to my body.

“It is for me; you said I was nearly invincible,” I reply and walk down the block toward the neon light of Susie’s Diner. Piper is on my heels like a puppy, making sure the gap between us never widens.

“A little space won’t kill you,” I suggest, turning and facing the blue door with the number 515 scrolled across the top of it in dried paint. I reach out and turn the knob, commenting, “Damn, it’s locked.”

“Here, let me,” Piper begins, pushing me aside. Pulling out a small stick she has concealed inside her inner jacket pocket, I watch in amazement as she flicks her wrist and commands “
Recludo
.” And the door pops open.

“How did you do that?” I gasp, but she smiles at me and wastes no time entering the small apartment.

I follow, closing the door behind me and switching on the lights. “Seriously,” I continue, “how in the hell did you do that?”

“I’m a Witch, remember?”

“You can actually do stuff? I just kind of thought it was what you called yourself, or maybe you were really into herbs or something.”

She laughs. “Nope, actual magic. But herbs can be very helpful.”

“That’s amazing,” I proclaim, but it’s clear I’m making her uncomfortable. I look around the small apartment and note, “No wonder he didn’t want to leave my crap-hole studio … this place is an absolute dump. So, why, if a goblin has a treasure, does he live in a place like this?”

Piper shakes her head, walking around the room and looking at every little detail. “They all do. Goblins are notoriously cheap. He could have had a fortune and just never wanted to spend a penny of it. After all, you’re only as rich as what you possess.”

“That’s stupid; who would think like that?” I grumble.

“Terg,” she suggests.

“God, that smell, it’s like permanently attached to any place he goes,” I remark, covering my nose and mouth.

“Goblins aren’t exactly known for their hygiene.”

“Let’s just look around, and get the hell out of here as fast as we can,” I snarl.

I start in the kitchen, looking through all of the cabinets and drawers for any sign of this supposed treasure. From the corner of my eye I see Piper head through a door to what I can only assume is Terg’s bedroom. Shifting into the living room, I begin tossing the junk around, the smell churning my stomach wildly. The stuff this guy holds on to … bottle caps, a box of thousands of keys—it’s like he’s never thrown anything away.

“Tynder!” Piper exclaims. I drop the stack of paper flyers I’m holding and rush into the bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” I gasp, fists raised into the air.

“I think I found where the treasure was,” she answers, motioning toward a bench at the end of the bed. On top there is a dust imprint around where a perfect rectangle would have been. “A goblin would keep it close to him, even while he sleeps.”

“This guy gets more pathetic the more I learn about him,” I moan, falling to my knees in front of the bench. Little bits of dust and trash litter the top of the bench, except for where we assume the treasure had been located. I move in closer to inspect the surface, shifting the trash around, careful not to disturb any possible evidence. As I do so, I can’t help but think of the way my grandfather was when he would work on a case.
Was he thorough and meticulous? Did he have a way with clients? Would he be proud of me?

Then I spot something, quite out of the ordinary—a sparkly substance across the bench top. I run my finger through it. “What’s this?”

She leans in and answers, “Looks like pixie dust.”

I laugh, then suddenly realize she’s serious. This is when my eye catches something even more amazing; using just my fingertips, I pick up the tiny item.

“What’s that?” Piper asks, looking over my shoulder.

“It looks like a little hat,” I say, turning and showing her my discovery.

“Oh wow,” she breathes in sharply, her breath catching in her throat, as if I have just stated the most interesting thing she has ever heard.

“I bet we can identify which house the wearer belongs to,” she adds.

“What?”

“You know, three houses of light and dark. A pixie or fairy would have to declare, same as everyone else. If we can identify the craftsman this hat came from, we can probably narrow the house.”

“Then let’s do it,” I exclaim, the excitement coursing through me.

“I need to put a few calls out to some of the houses,” she states.

“Great, let’s go,” I say, shoving the evidence into my pocket.

I PACE THE LENGTH OF the room. I forgot how boring Joe’s place could be; I mean, come on, who doesn’t have a television. I flop down on the couch with a big huff and begin tossing my keys up into the air and catching them. Piper is huddled over a stack of books at Desmond’s old desk. Despite my several loud sighs, she doesn’t seem to notice me.

“Any word yet?” I ask at last.

She pauses. “No, Tynder, there wasn’t any word ten minutes ago or the thirty before that, or even the hour before then. I’ll let you know when I hear something, all right?”

“It’s been a couple days … shouldn’t we have heard something?”

“It takes time, be patient.”

“I don’t understand how long it could possibly take to show around a hat and figure out who made it?” I grumble.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, there is a sparkle to the left of me that catches my eye. When I turn my head I can see Piper is standing as well. It’s that same shimmering pool I had been brought back through after visiting The Queen.
Finally, some answers
.

The pale blue shimmering portal disappears. A man is standing in front of me—facing Piper—and all I can see is the back of him. His hair is dark and thick, his bottom is firm, and his jeans hug it in the most perfect of ways. His hands are in his pockets, and there is a confidence in the way he’s standing that makes me ache. Through his tri-blend T-shirt, I can make out the hard muscles of his shoulders and back.

I glance past him and see Piper is staring at him, her mouth hanging open. She remains silent.

“Can we help you?” I eventually break the quiet.

He turns to face me when he hears my voice, and suddenly I understand why Piper looks the way she does. If there were a heat-seeking missile in the room, it would go straight for my nether regions. I don’t know who this stranger is, but I know I need his hands on me—those strong and broad hands caressing my curves in ways I’m certain will make me tremble. A man who looks as he does has to possess those skills; he just has to.

“My name is Gideon Nash. I’m here to see Tynder Crown,” he states firmly, and I’m overjoyed that his deep voice matches his firm exterior. His dark eyes envelope me. As if an invisible force is pulling me closer to him, I approach.

“I’m Tynder Crown,” I announce. I’ve never been so glad in my entire life to be me. My body begins to respond involuntarily to the proximity of him. My chest is heaving in and out, my brow begins to sweat, and my legs are shaking. I’m the type of woman who doesn’t shy away from an attractive man, but this is different. It takes everything in me to fight the urge to leap into his arms and begin passionately kissing him. He’s looking into my eyes as he licks those pouty lips. Is he thinking the same thing? A kiss to seal our meeting?

Suddenly Piper appears, sliding directly in between us. “Hi, I’m her Crimlock, Piper Williams. Is there something we can help you with?”

He nods his head and reaches out, and, taking hold of Piper’s extended hand, he shakes it. “Actually I need to talk to both of you. You were looking for some information about who might be the wearer of this item?” He reveals the small cap in his other hand.

Piper reaches out and swipes it from his open palm. “How did you get that? I gave that to my friend Nathan.”

Gideon smiles. “He says hi by the way. He couldn’t get away, but he knew I had business with Tynder here, so he asked me to relay the message.”

“Any business with Tynder is business with me,” she quickly adds.

“Actually, no, what I was sent here to discuss with Tynder is confidential.” He grins at her, and I can’t stop thinking about licking him.

“Well, that’s too bad!” Piper exclaims.

“Sorry, she can be a bit overprotective. So you know whose cap that is?” I ask, trying to move the conversation out of the vicious circle I see it heading in.

“I was told you can find your pixie in the house of Elladur,” he explains, and suddenly I realize I’m staring at his lips again. Those beautiful and full lips. I wonder what they would feel like against my own.

“A light Fae?” Piper remarks. “That doesn’t make sense … a light Fae wouldn’t steal; it’s against their alignment.”

“Look,” Gideon sighs, “I don’t really know anything about what you’re looking for—all I know is Nathan said there’s a pixie named Ember Cornwand in the house of Elladur who you need to speak to, and he handed me that little cap to return.”

Piper shakes her head, silently crossing the room to her desk, and jots down some notes.

“Can we talk now?” Gideon asks softly.

“Certainly.” I grin, trying my best to look provocative.

He looks over his shoulder. “Alone?”

I look around him; Piper is now sitting, rapidly flipping through pages of a book on her desk. I nod and lift a finger to my lips, motioning for him to follow me. As I walk past him, toward the living quarters, I can feel the heat pulsating from his body, and I allow my arm to brush against his. Looking down, I notice a tattoo of hash marks on his forearm.
Sexy,
I think,
and mysterious. I like mysterious.