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  Fowl Play

  A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count)

  RJ Blain

  Fowl Play

  A Magical Romantic Comedy (with a body count)

  RJ Blain

  * * *

  Warning: This novella contains humor, romance, magic, puns, bodies, and a short detour from reality. No plots were harmed in the making of this story.

  Instead of a quiet dance retreat where she could escape the insanity of being the daughter of an angel, a succubus, and a lycanthrope, Emma Sansaul plummets into the middle of murder, mayhem, and mischief. As becoming the next victim of a crazed serial killer is not on her itinerary, she's left with no choice but to join forces with Agent Kenneth Bernard to find the murderer, the one man on Earth capable of making her hissing mad one second and in need of a cold shower the next.

  Copyright © 2018 by Pen & Page Publishing/RJ Blain

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  About the Author

  Magical Romantic Comedies (with a body count)

  From Witch & Wolf World

  Other Stories by RJ Blain

  Witch & Wolf World Reading Order

  Chapter One

  Normal people worried about delays at the airport, dealing with security, and other travel snarls when heading off on an adventure. Me?

  One of my mothers was a succubus, and she’d brought home an incubus for me to enjoy. Like all his demonic kin, he was a dark beauty oozing sin with a dash of temptation, offering everything a girl could want and more. If I didn’t get the hell out of Dodge, I’d miss my flight, lose my virginity, and discover the joys of having an on-call incubus.

  Heaven help me.

  “No, Mom.” I pointed at the incubus, whose grin promised the immediate disintegration of my panties if I let him get anywhere near me. “What have I told you about bringing random incubi home?”

  “You keep telling me not to do it like you actually get a say in the matter. This is my house, young lady. And in my house, I’ll bring home company whenever I want.”

  Why, why, why did I have an angel for a mother, a succubus for a mother, and a bloody, feather-brained lycanthrope for a father? I thought a little screaming was warranted, so I started with my father. “Dad!? Mom brought home an incubus again.”

  “Talk to your other mother, Emma,” my father yelled back from across the house. “I’m busy with the chicks right now.”

  Damned feather-brained, chicken-obsessed idiot of a swan!

  “Language!” Ma ordered from up the stairs, proving I had an unwanted snoop poking around in my thoughts again.

  “Ma, Mom’s going to make me late for the airport. Can you please deal with this situation?”

  “You’re still dressed, he’s not influencing you, and despite your current belief, he won’t actually disintegrate your panties. Stop being such a baby. Maybe if you wouldn’t run every time your mom brought home a guest, she wouldn’t find it so amusing to bring guests home with her.”

  “You’re a fallen angel, aren’t you? There’s no other explanation.” I bowed my head, wondered how I’d make the thirty feet to my car without being ambushed, further delayed, or otherwise blocked from going to Boulder, Colorado to practice dancing and escape from the monotony of set performances at the theater.

  “No, I’m just fair, and for once in her life, your mom hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “Yet! She hasn’t done anything wrong yet.”

  “Louisa, perhaps you should take your pet incubus home. You know how cranky George gets when you bring home an incubus for Emma. Can we go one day without having an incident in this house, please?”

  Mom scowled, lashing her tail and clamping her wings close to her back. “Damn it! I went through a lot of effort to catch this one.”

  Once my mothers started going at it, nothing short of divine intervention would stop them. Mouthing an apology to the bemused incubus, I snatched my luggage and retreated out the front door.

  Some days, living with telepaths and empaths annoyed the hell out of me, but once they started duking it out in the privacy of their thoughts, the world could end without either one noticing.

  “Have a safe flight, Miss Emma.” The incubus held the front door open for me. “The combination for the lock on your steering wheel is 4-2-7-1.”

  “I don’t have a clue who you are, but you’re now my friend.”

  “Call me Rafil.”

  “Like Israfil?” Having met the archangel, if he ever found out there was a cheeky incubus edging in on his turf, it’d get ugly. With my luck, it’d happen in my house, as my mothers had no shame and enjoyed their power plays as much as my father enjoyed watching them.

  I’d been born into a family of raving lunatics.

  The incubus’s grin confirmed my fears. “I live to yank his chain. It keeps him on his toes. If you change your mind and want to play with me, give me a call. I’d be glad to introduce you to the true pleasures of life.”

  I bolted for my car like the devil himself was hot on my heels. I contemplated murdering Mom when I saw the chain wrapped around my steering wheel, which ran out the window to loop through my rim, ensuring I wouldn’t be going anywhere without the combination. The number worked. I dumped the mess on the lawn for my mom to clean up, shoved my bags into the backseat, and bailed before my parents could stop me.

  Had I been on an international flight, I would’ve missed it by a mile; but fortune smiled on me for a rare change, and I squeaked through security with minutes to spare. Until I was safely on board, I wouldn’t test my luck. I couldn’t afford to. Ma could teleport, and nobody with half a brain stopped an angel on a mission.

  No matter what, I needed to catch my flight. Once on board, Ma wouldn’t interfere with the plane; it went against the household rules. It only took one plane crash, and I still had no idea how no one had died in that crash, myself included.

  I blamed angelic magic, which was likely why my ma had escaped with a ‘minor’ fine.

  Airplanes weren’t cheap, a lesson I’d learned when the bill arrived for its replacement. It was so not cheap I’d fainted when I’d seen the invoice with my name on it.

  With a little help from Dad, I’d expanded the rules to apply to boats, cars, and other vehicles, giving me good odds of arriving at my destination alive.

  I made it to the gate with a minute to spare, and before the attendant could glare at me, I babbled profuse apologies and held out my boarding pass. Unless I was an inch from death, I’d learned not to pray for anything.

  Fortunately for me, prayer wasn’t needed, and she waved me through the gate to the boarding ramp.

  Everyone stared at me while I hauled my carryon to the back of the plane, the cheapest seat I could get.

  Had I known I’d be seated beside Kenneth Bernard, I would’ve accepted the incubus’s invitation, missed the dance retreat altogether, and liked it. I would’ve even marched into my father’s office, informing him I’d love to be his partner in his law practice, ensuring a substantial raise and far better job security.

  Embarrassment often led to me doing foolish things, as did Mom. The first time I’d met Kenneth, I’d been riding a pixie dust high so intense it’d taken three roun
ds of neutralizer to bring me down, a stunt that’d landed me in solitary for a night. I’d escaped without being charged, as I’d been smart enough to request an angel confirm that I hadn’t known the pixie dust was an illegal grade, but the embarrassment remained.

  “Hey, jail bird. Fancy meeting you here,” he greeted me with his cockiest grin. “I saved you a seat.”

  In a move meant to remind me I’d be trapped with him for the next three hours, he patted the cushion beside him.

  To keep the stewardess from murdering me, I wasted no time shoving my bag in the last spot in the overhead bin. I cursed the day I’d been talked into going to a bar with Mom. Only Mom would hook me up with illegal pixie dust and use it as a chance to teach me about the realities of life.

  I blamed Ma for blindly trusting Mom, resulting in my arrest that night. Then again, I suspected Ma had known Mom had been planning something to get me in trouble. Both of my mothers believed that important life lessons needed to be learned through experience.

  Worse, I was willing to bet Mom had gone out of her way to pick Kenneth as the one to bust me. He was her type, and I’d learned early on I was my mother’s daughter as much as I was my father’s. Most days, I considered myself confused, attracted to the exact wrong sort of man. In my case, I harbored an unfortunate interest in the muscle-bound cop with an intense dislike for narcotics incapable of tolerating anyone with a wandering eye.

  Ma and Dad took the blame for that, although Mom smiled, shrugged, and accepted her share of guilt over how I’d turned out.

  With no other choice, I took my seat, buckled up, and bowed my head. “No one warned me this was a cop-infested flight,” I complained.

  “Please, jail bird. I’m in the FBI. I’m too amazing to just be a cop.”

  “Amazing? Seriously? You busted me on pixie dust,” I muttered.

  “It’s a pretty amazing day when I get to bust someone for using a legal substance in an illegal fashion. For future reference, you’re not supposed to inhale pixie dust. I recommend ingesting it in a good drink. Stick to the legal grades. I could’ve had you licking out of my hand on command. Also, avoid keeping company with succubi. I should’ve suggested that first.”

  “That succubus is my mother, Kenneth.”

  He stared at me, both brows lifted high. “You don’t look like a succubus.”

  “My other mother is an angel.”

  “No wonder you went wild. First night on the town without your angelic mother watching you like a hawk?” Kenneth’s smirk drove me crazy, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slap it off his face or test the claim that the lycanthropy virus couldn’t be spread through a little tongue-on-tongue action.

  It wasn’t fair my nightmare in the flesh could give an incubus a run for his money.

  “No, I was just an idiot for letting Mom talk me into going to the bar with her.” I shrugged. “After the first three drinks, who cared if sniffing pixie dust wasn’t conventional usage?”

  “I knew I should’ve written up the succubus for possession, too.”

  “We both know she dumped the entire stash on me so she could laugh at me while I experienced arrest. She called it a ‘learning experience.’”

  * * *

  “Well, I can’t say she’s wrong. You did learn something, right?”

  “Yes, I did. I learned I have an allergy to being arrested by egotistical cops who don’t wear uniforms and hang out at bars on a Tuesday night.”

  He dared to laugh, and I wondered how I’d make it through the rest of the flight with my sanity intact.

  Chapter Two

  One day, I needed to ask my mothers why I’d drawn the short straw of life when I contracted the lycanthropy virus from my father while still in the womb. The how of it made sense; my father loved both of my mothers, and the only way to ensnare a succubus was to keep her busy in bed or eternally pregnant.

  I suspected Dad would’ve helped double the swan lycanthrope population had my mothers cooperated with him. To be fair, it wouldn’t be hard for him.

  Swans came few and far between, and they only showed up courtesy of a magical hot spot. He’d already doubled the population once having me. That interested the CDC, as until I’d been born, they hadn’t thought angelic children could contract the lycanthropy virus in the womb.

  There was a first for everything, and I thanked Ma every day I hadn’t been recruited to be a CDC research subject. If they could figure out why I’d contracted lycanthropy, they might be able to figure out more about how the virus spread between species. They also wanted to know why my virus levels remained low. It’d take a lot of effort on my part to infect someone. By their estimate, I’d have to give either a full blood donation or spend at least a week seducing my partner to have even a chance of passing on my special brand of lunacy.

  I blamed His contribution to my existence, which had likely manipulated the DNA from my mothers, thus allowing my father’s DNA to hold a slight majority. Then again, who knew? I was the only documented case of an angel, a succubus, and a lycanthrope hooking up and having a child.

  Angels preferred purer humans.

  “That’s a pretty serious expression you’re rocking,” Kenneth said, nudging me with his elbow. “What’s got your feathers in a kink?”

  In all my meetings with Kenneth, I’d learned a few important rules of engagement. The man lived to tease me, and he loved nothing more than when I fluffed my feathers and got riled up by his comments. Playing it cool, in turn, drove him wild, and I enjoyed turning the tables on him. If he wanted a talk, I’d give him one.

  Maybe the shock would make him faint, resulting in a quiet, peaceful flight to Colorado.

  “How do you feel about lycanthropes?”

  “I work in the narcotics field. I run into them almost every day. You’d be surprised at the number of lycanthropes who’ll try illegal drugs hoping to cure themselves of the virus. It’s a shame, really. For something incurable, it comes with a lot of benefits. I don’t understand why someone would risk their health trying to get rid of a virus that prolongs their life.”

  “It’s the lack of job opportunities and generalized fear. People get nasty towards lycanthropes on a bad day and run away on a good one.”

  “Spoken like someone who’d know. Who do you know that’s a lycanthrope?”

  I pointed at myself. “A gift from Dad.”

  “Didn’t you say your mother’s that succubus who got your arrested, jail bird?”

  “She did it to piss Ma off and teach me a few lessons about life. I’m convinced of it.”

  Kenneth’s expression went blank. “Your mother did it to piss your ma off?”

  His tone conveyed a mountain of questions, and I relaxed in my seat, wishing I could stretch my legs. By the time the plane landed, I’d be cramped from head to toe and likely require an intervention to keep from falling on my ass the instant I tried to stand up. “Yep.”

  “You’re the daughter of a triad.”

  Triad? That was a nice way to label the convoluted threesome required for an angel to have a child with a human. “I haven’t heard it put that way before. Interesting.”

  “You’re part angel.”

  “I’m a little bit of heaven, a little bit of hell, and a whole lot of lycanthrope.”

  “I never would’ve guessed.”

  “That’s the general idea.”

  “Contagious?”

  “If you’re hoping to arrest me again, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” I smirked, reaching down so I could retrieve my wallet from my purse between my feet, and dug out the handy little CDC-issued card displaying my lycanthropy infection status. I offered it to him. “They made this for me because I’m special, and they didn’t want to figure out how to add this shit to my driver’s license.”

  His brows rose as he read the information on the card, which included risk of transmission through intercourse, defined to a number of instances, and how much blood it would take for infection to occur. “Most wome
n would not be happy to have this information put on a card they’re required to show law enforcement if asked.”

  “It’s a badge of pride. If a man wants my virus, he’ll have to earn it.”

  “This number is defined within a set number of hours, jail bird.”

  “He’ll really have to want it and work to earn it.” I grinned, snatched my card out of his hand, and waved it in his face. “I don’t take chances, but this is my free pass to do so if I wanted. I just have to show my partner the card and be willing to face Ma’s wrath.”

  “It must be pretty easy to get angelic verification when your mother’s an angel.”

  “Well, one of them. The other? She’s totally the type to get her daughter arrested because she can’t play with the local law enforcement anymore.”

  Kenneth’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I want to ask.”

  “That’s probably wise. My father is a lycanthrope, and you know how they get.”

  “Jealously possessive with a single partner.”

  “Well, Dad has two partners, and he’s jealously possessive over both of them. Mom tried to escape once just to see what Dad would do. He dragged her back home by her tail. Had I not been six and impressionable, I’m sure he would’ve chained her in the basement.”

  “You lead an even more interesting life than I ever could have imagined, and I feel a little bad I interfered with your high. After dealing with that sort of thing, I’d want to get a hit of pixie dust, too. Next time, use legal vendors.”

  “I had no idea it wasn’t legal, damn it!”

  “You also curse a lot more than I expected from the child of an angel.”

  Growing up, I’d faced the expectations of the general public; children of angels were supposed to be faultless beings, good-natured and pure without exception. People were stupid.