Page 47 of Suspicions on the Stage
“Merciful Aed,no,” Liam interrupts with a heavy sigh. “I don’t mean to be rude, but… This charade isn’t necessary.” He looks pained as he gestures at her, shaking his head. “Your bosses have instructed you to portray thewrongversion of a ‘Fae fantasy’. This is what thehumanswould like, and completely not attractive to anactualFae.”
I cover my mouth to keep from laughing as the girl pouts prettily, then finally gives up the ghost when Liam’s scowl doesn’t change. She sighs in annoyance, crossing her arms over the amply displayed chest and her hip pops out. “Look, I’m not tryin’ to be offensive or anythin’. That trend for the balls an’ shit hit, so the designers for this place went a little nutty with transformin’ us into the idea most people have of Faerie. Everything I just did is scripted, an’ it’s a real pisser to do night after night.”
Slade takes pity on the hometown girl, giving her a sympathetic smile. “We get it… Elora? Or is that not your name, either?”
“Hell, no, it’s not my goddamn name. Nothin’ wrong with it, but my granny spins in her grave every time I say, I reckon. My name is Dixie, but I’ll stomp on your toe if you say one word about that damn racist song.” Now her chin is set stubbornly, and my admiration for her goes up about a zillion percent.
Who’d’ve thought the simpering princess is actually a Southern spitfire?
“I work here to pay my way through school,” she explains. “So while I didn’t say it because I’m obligated to do the whole ‘Hail to the Prince’ thing, I know who y’are, ma’am.” I wince at her calling me that, but I can’t help softening even more at the acknowledgment.
“Dixie, I promise we won’t be the shitty clients you probably expected when you came out,” I reply. “We’re here to meet a friend, and have a few drinks… not cause you to tear your wig off in frustration.”
Her eyes widen and she beams. “Noticed that, didja? They think it sells the fantasy heroine a bit better if I have ‘curly locks ofraven hair that spills over my shoulders like ink’. I mean, can you imagine? Traipsin’ all over the world fighting things with your hairnottied back to keep it out of your damn mouth? The indignity of women in being written for men is enough to make you look real close at dogs, isn’t it?”
That gets a bark of laughter from Lucas this time, and he winks at me. “Or bears, I suppose.”
That makes me turn red, and I look back at the delightful student in front of me. “How about you take us to this reserved table and tell us more about yourself while we walk? I’m sure Liam would enjoy hearing your story—hell, we all would now that you aren’t going to pretend we’re on a quest for a magic ring or something.”
Dixie gives me a thumbs up, turning on her heel. “Follow me, folks. The fancy ass Fae box is through the crowd, up two flights, and on stage right. “
As promised, we follow her as she relays that her family has lived in the farming area surrounding the city for hundreds of years, and she’s a theater major. She grew up in that small town Jackson keeps referencing, but she was part of the ‘snotty elites’ who apparently run the place. Her family works the big horse farm down there, and wanted her to be part of the family business, but she bucked the trend to come here for somethingnotrelated to equestrian pursuits, so she’s on her own.
Once we arrive at the promised fancy ass box, I look at the supe with a trained eye. “Dixie, what’s your last name?”
“Oh, my full name is Dixie Wynnona Abernathy. We’re kelpies from some long-lost relatives who emigrated whatever many years ago from the old country. You know, that tried and true comin’ to America story from the post human war about slavery.That’s why I hate the name, but it’s handed down through the women and I was first at the trough, so to speak.”
“Well, I’m glad we met you, Dixie.”
Iggy nods, looking up from the drink menu on the table. “We’ll be easy, like she said. How about we start with a scotch, guys?”
I sigh in relief. Margaritas were fun for taco night, but I’m dying for a less fruity concoction now. “Make it Balvenie twenty-one for everyone, Dixie.”
She writes it down, then gives us a playful salute, bouncing off to grab our order. Once she’s gone, I pull my phone to send a quick text.
MorganaLeCiel: Channing, I have a task for you to put on your list.
Channing: Ready and waiting, boss!
MorganaLeCiel: First, no calling me boss. Second, you definitely do not need to do this tonight. I simply don’t want to forget tomorrow, okay?
Channing: But, I could easily…
MorganaLeCiel: Channing. Balance is important, remember?
Channing: Fine, what can I do?
MorganaLeCiel: I want everything you can find inside and out of State U on a student named Dixie Wynonna Abernathy and her family. History, scandals, rumors, government records… use Eli if he’s available, but I want everything.
Channing: Why? Is this person dangerous?
MorganaLeCiel: I don’t believe so. But I’d like to know before I decide.
Channing: Decisions like what?
MorganaLeCiel: Remains to be seen. Just get it together for me tomorrow. Good night.
Clicking the screen off, I look up to see all of my men looking at me curiously. “What?”
