The Shatterproof Magician (The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Book 4) Read online

  Well, that was easier than I realized it would be. Agent Ruby hid the victorious grin on his clean-shaven face. “Very good then. I’m glad we share a common goal in all of this.”

  “I have some ideas for how to accomplish what you’ve outlined.” Dash indicated the folder that Agent Ruby had provided with project details. “FriendNet is hooked into everything from shopping to restaurant reviews to digital music. The possibilities of ways to break up couples are huge.”

  “The data on how to find out what will create relationship problems between two people is at your disposal?” Agent Ruby asked.

  Dash nodded triumphantly. “I can tell you everything about someone. Their likes, dislikes, phobias, turn-ons, turn-offs, relationship history.” He pointed at the sleek laptop and his phone on his desk. “It’s all in there and there and every day more is recorded.”

  Agent Ruby nearly shuddered with disgust. That’s what the modern world had come to. They’d given up privacy for convenience, and the price was that they’d become easily manipulated. That’s precisely what Dash and Agent Ruby were going to do. Take the information that millions had volunteered and use it to make them angry, jealous, paranoid, and inevitably distrustful about their boyfriends, girlfriends, wives, husbands, and partners. It was only a matter of time before lawyers and law enforcement were up to their eyebrows in crimes and lawsuits. That was because passion led to irrational behavior and that usually resulted in illegal acts, divorce, and violence.

  “It’s important that no one knows about this,” Agent Ruby stated with authority.

  Dash held up his hands. “Not to worry, man. No one at FriendNet will have any clue. It simply doesn’t behoove me to share this with anyone.”

  “Good.” Agent Ruby nodded proudly, surprised at the strange hipster with whom he’d formed an unlikely alliance. “More importantly, no one can come between this project and our success. If they do, we’ll need to go to any lengths to ensure they aren’t a problem.”

  That piqued Dash’s interest, judging by the keen expression on his face. “You know someone who could be a problem?”

  “FGA has various agents, always monitoring love and relationships,” Agent Ruby explained. “Fairy Godmothers are sent on jobs and usually do them without question. Agents have an interest in the whole picture and report to Saint Valentine. He has various ways of keeping an eye on things. When love starts to plummet, someone will investigate. If they link it to you and FriendNet, I need you to do whatever it takes to ensure they don’t stop us, and more importantly, that they don’t know I’m behind it.”

  Dash smiled wickedly. “I can do that. The beauty is that I run things with a few simple programs and no one knows I’m the guy behind the curtain. I can hack into everything from prescription medication systems to traffic lights. Funny how a little tweak and someone’s life is poof…gone.” He snapped his fingers, a glint of crazy in his eyes.

  Agent Ruby narrowed his gaze at the guy but nodded, making note that he’d aligned himself with a very powerful person—one he needed to keep close and dispose of when the right time came.

  Chapter Three

  Paris Beaufont’s hands shook as she pulled the brush through her tangled blonde hair. Faraday the talking squirrel watched from her dresser, catching sight of her in the mirror over the small bedside table.

  “Does brushing your hair make you that nervous?” Faraday flicked his tail.

  She rolled her eyes and spun to face him directly. “No, you know why I’m nervous.”

  He nodded understandingly. “Because you’re starting transformative magic today, and you’re worried that you’re going to turn the blue bird into a paper airplane rather than a hot air balloon.”

  Paris dropped the brush on the bedside table, abandoning the efforts. “I’m considering turning you into a pair of fur-lined slippers.”

  The squirrel grimaced. “I wouldn’t. I hear that squirrel’s fur causes athlete’s foot.”

  “What a strange thing to hear.” Paris hid her amusement.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t say it’s true. I’ve heard that…can’t remember where.”

  “Probably Lies Radio, a program that you don’t subscribe to, but you’re the host and producer for.”

  His tail flicked again at his back. “Why would I subscribe to a radio program that I host? That’s like buying your own product. What’s the point?”

  Paris shook her head, threading her arms over her chest. “I can’t help but think that you missed the point, dear friend.” She added extra inflection on the last word.

  “Are you still upset about that thing?” he asked.

  “That thing where you said you’d tell me your secrets after I defeated the Deathly Shadow, but then all of a sudden you can’t?” she challenged.

  His eyes darted to the side. “I’m sorry. I really am. I thought I could tell you about my past, but I found out afterward that I can’t.”

  She sighed. “Again, how did you find this out?”

  “Someone told me,” he said nervously. “Similar to how Papa Creola had to be the one who told you about your past, I’m not allowed, in so many ways, to tell my secrets.”

  “What does ‘so many ways’ mean?”

  “It means that I’ll break a deal if I do.”

  Seven days. It had been a long seven days since Paris defeated the Deathly Shadow, recovered her parents from the parallel universe, and returned to Happily Ever After College. Liv and Stefan were still recovering, according to Papa Creola, and Paris hadn’t seen them since that night when they were too exhausted to say much. The reunion hadn’t been the one she envisioned, but also, nothing in her life had happened the way anyone would guess.

  The father of time had said that sleep was important for Liv and Stefan to reacclimate. They’d only been gone a day in the other universe, but Paris’ parents had missed fifteen years in this world. Although they’d been able to return, their bodies were having trouble adjusting. To avoid rapid aging and all sorts of problems with mental schisms, Papa Creola had put them into a deep sleep and wasn’t waking them up until he was sure it was safe.

  So, after everything and risking so much to save her parents, Paris still hadn’t seen them. Each day that passed made her feel like it wasn’t real—that they weren’t really back. Or she worried that maybe they would never wake up.

  Faraday going back on his promise to share his secrets had been a good distraction for Paris, giving her something tangible to be upset about. Because in reality, how could she be upset that her mother and father were in a coma of sorts to prevent them from degenerating after coming through a vortex, something that Papa Creola said almost none in this universe or any other would attempt. It was simply too dangerous with too many potentials that could go wrong.

  Paris sighed again and sat on the edge of her bed as the shaking returned. “You know why I’m so nervous.”

  The squirrel hopped off the dresser, landed next to her on the soft pink comforter, and looked up at her with a thoughtful expression. “They’ll wake up soon, I’m sure.”

  Paris gulped. “Then there are the other worries when my parents do wake up.”

  “Why wouldn’t they like you?” He’d been through this with her every night that week.

  “Because I’m a rebel and weird and always getting myself into trouble.”

  “Your mother was a rebel who challenged the House of Fourteen when no one else would,” Faraday reminded her. Much of her parents’ history had come out since they returned. It seemed that since the family couldn’t yet reunite with Liv and Stefan, they’d settled for telling their stories in the meantime. Uncle John was the one who had the most sentimental look on his face when he recounted memories.

  “Your father hunted demons,” Faraday continued. “So if that doesn’t make someone weird, I’m not sure what does.”

  Paris stared off without really seeing, grateful that her friend didn’t mind repeating these reasons over and over to her, although they hadn�
��t sunk in yet. She worried that after fifteen years, she’d be a disappointment to her parents. They had expected to find a little child when they returned, and she was far from that. Maybe if they’d raised her, she’d be like them, and they’d have something in common. What if they didn’t like rock music or didn’t laugh at her jokes or they disagreed on core beliefs?

  “I think hunting demons makes my father courageous,” Paris argued. “I’m becoming a fairy godmother. The biggest thing I risk is getting a paper cut when licking wedding invites.”

  “I don’t think you’re the one who sends those,” Faraday countered.

  She scoffed at him. “Again, you miss the point, squirrel. When my parents had nearly passed out, they seemed fine with the notion I was attending Happily Ever After College. When they come to… Well, Uncle Clark is a Councilor, Aunt Sophia is a dragonrider, Uncle John is a detective—and I’m a fairy godmother in training.”

  “Which I contend is an essential job,” Faraday stated. “Maybe as you help to evolve the college, it will become dangerous. Perhaps you’ll have to fight trolls who break into the Enchanted Grounds or witches who pollute the water supply with anti-love potions.”

  Paris perked up. “You think? That would be fantastic!”

  He shook his head at her. “And you call me weird.”

  “You are the weirdest.” She stood and checked her appearance in the mirror. She looked like her parents—more so like her mother. Her true concern was if she was like them internally, in a way that made the last fifteen years not feel like a wedge. “I hope they like me,” Paris said to her image, mostly talking to herself.

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Faraday began, “your parents will probably be asleep for several more days, so you have time to worry through all the different scenarios.”

  Paris lowered her chin and regarded him with hooded eyes. “Not cool, Slippers.”

  The squirrel laughed at this. “Your threats only make me like you more.”

  “Then get ready to be my best friend,” she chirped and headed for the door to her room. “What will you do today?”

  Faraday had hopped from the bed to the window sill, looking out at the Enchanted Grounds as the sun rose over Happily Ever After College. “I have to talk to a guy about a thing.”

  Paris nodded. “More secrets. You’re a real bestie.”

  “After that,” he continued, ignoring her statement, “I’m going to make you a friendship bracelet.”

  “Out of twigs and leaves, as a real squirrel would?” she teased.

  “I was thinking out of some thermoplastic insulated wires with high heat resistance since you’ll need something that withstands all your dangerous endeavors,” he explained. “Maybe something nylon-coated with a synthetic polymer.”

  She nodded. “Yep, that’s the type of bracelet I’d expect a woodland creature to make for me.” Paris opened the door, smelling breakfast aromas wafting up from the downstairs of the mansion. “Try and stay out of trouble, squirrel.”

  “Same to you, troll-hunter.” He bounced out the window and along the roof of FGE.

  Paris sighed and pulled the door shut behind her, curious about the squirrel but also feeling like he’d tell her the truth as soon as he could. She understood better than most that sometimes things didn’t go the way you thought. You believed you had to bring some people back for everything to be okay and that simply wasn’t the way things went. People didn’t live happily ever after, it seemed.

  Faraday had promised to tell her his secrets, but something was preventing him. She simply hoped that one day things changed and he could. Until then, she wasn’t kicking him out. He was the best friend she had—and that was saying a lot because Paris finally had real friends.

  Chapter Four

  Since Paris’ return to Happily Ever After College after defeating the Deathly Shadow, even her friends had been walking on eggshells around her. She knew they meant well and didn’t want to pressure her for details, especially because they sensed that things hadn’t gone perfectly. Well, she’d survived, and that was key. Her parents had returned. However, they weren’t really part of her life yet, and the stress of it all was evident on Paris’ face.

  Sitting at the long dining room table, Paris pushed the creamy scrambled eggs around on her plate, conscious that many around her were staring. Most of them were friends. Some a few seats down weren’t so much, and their scrutinizing gazes weren’t going unnoticed.

  The whispers about Paris had grown louder lately—hardly considered a secret anymore. The growing scrutiny over the fact that Paris was half-magician, a rebel with a rap sheet, and an outcast who refused to wear the blue gown or eat desserts most of the time was on the rise.

  “Starship, I hear someone saw your mother buying a beauty potion from a freshwater nymph.” Christine leaned over and slapped the table between her and another student named Starship, who was gawking and gossiping with the girls clustered around her.

  Starship’s face instantly flushed red as her brows knitted together. “How dare you? She would never. Everyone knows their potions don’t work.”

  “Well,” Christine drew out the word. “I didn’t know that, but it sounds like you’ve had extensive practice testing them out.”

  Starship gasped, jumped to her feet, and charged off.

  Christine grinned triumphantly. “One down, a ton of busybodies to go.” She glanced up and down the table. “Who’s next? I know dirt on all of you hippies, so keep talking about Paris, and I’ll spill your business.”

  Paris pushed her plate away, offering a well-meaning smile to her friend. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t care and can defend myself.”

  “I know that,” Christine replied next to her. “You could have everyone in the room hogtied and begging for mercy.”

  “Don’t give her any ideas,” Hemingway cut in, winking at Paris. “I sometimes fear what she might do if she gets bored.”

  Chef Ash, Penny, and Christine all laughed.

  “I don’t mean to overstep,” Christine said to Paris. “It’s just that it’s so annoying that you’re the constant topic of conversation.”

  Paris regarded her uneaten food. “I don’t care.”

  “Well, I do,” Christine replied. “I mean, Chef Ash and I helped to break up Grayson McGregor from his fiancé. Then we sent the chocolates that broke up Amelia Rose with that lame-o. That led to Grayson and Amelia falling in love. People should be talking about that.”

  The group all laughed again.

  “I should have realized this was never about defending my honor,” Paris remarked, thoroughly entertained by her friend.

  “You should get more attention for it around the school,” Penny supplied. “It’s amazing how their union quickly helped the love meter to recover.”

  Chef Ash nodded. “It goes to show love breeds love. It’s a very tricky thing with the pendulum constantly swinging back and forth. Still, the new corporation the two lovers quickly formed and their instant goodwill instead of spite at each other, shifted so many different things.”

  “A definite ripple effect,” Hemingway added.

  “I think you’d rather not have everyone talk about that.” Becky Montgomery leaned in from a few empty seats away, obviously having been eavesdropping.

  “Oh, good, someone whose opinion means less than a pile of horse manure is chiming in on this,” Christine said dryly.

  The other woman narrowed her eyes at her, but then they lit up with evil delight. “For starters, I hear that although there was an uptick on the love meter, your efforts didn’t have as big of an impact as you might have initially thought.”

  Christine’s grin disappeared. She glanced at Paris and Chef Ash, but they did their best to cover their nervous expressions. None of them wanted to believe that Becky the Bully was right.

  “Second,” she continued, growing with confidence. “Second and especially first-year students aren’t allowed to go on cases of that magnitude. Th
ere are several agents at FGA who are looking into this matter.”

  “The case originated at Happily Ever After College with one of our instructors,” Chef Ash argued. “That’s why it fell under our jurisdiction to resolve how we saw fit.”

  Becky shook her head. “Cases are still under the final authority of FGA.”

  “Cases are still under the final authority of Saint Valentine,” Hemingway countered.

  Tossing her grayish-blue hair over her shoulder, Becky scoffed. “I don’t think the current Saint Valentine holds much authority. Throwing out laws and age-old practices isn’t putting him in a good light with the board.” Her gaze darted to Paris. “Many don’t like that he’s allowing the headmistress to do so many things that go directly against our curriculum and supreme standards.”

  “You mean, allowing her to teach a half-magician,” Paris said boldly.

  Becky shrugged as though indifferent. “There’s that. Let’s just say that Saint Valentine is under scrutiny for many reasons.”

  “Let’s also say that no one gives a damn what you or your snotty family thinks,” Christine fired back.

  Becky shot her a defiant expression. “I think you’ll find that there are many who care what the Montgomerys think and not only that, but we can make a lot of things happen.”

  Christine took a large gulp of water and nodded. “I know what you mean. You make me sick and seemingly without trying.”

  Becky, like Starship, shot to a standing position as she fumed and marched from the dining hall.

  Christine pulled her plate closer. “Finally, my appetite can return.”

  Hemingway leaned over on the other side of Paris. “I know that having everyone talk about you isn’t easy, but I think it’s because you’re different and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Paris regarded him with a speculative stare for a moment. They both knew she knew his secret. He was a magician, masquerading as a fairy. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know. He’d be the one talked about, but more importantly, under rules that the headmistress couldn’t change, Hemingway would be thrown out of Happily Ever After College. A half-magician who was also half-fairy was more than enough for everyone to digest, but a magician in the faculty, well, the fairy godmothers weren’t ready for that type of progressive move yet…or maybe ever.