[ Fantasy / Romance / Book 1 ] In Pyxis, a city of fairies at the icy border of civilization, Queen Andromeda intends to reach into the modern world of humans and kill everyone associated with her ex-husband, Scott MacRae, the King of the Unworthy...
With Chris and the others stuffed in his pocket, Joe strolled along Simona's street until he came to house number ninety-one. It was a duplex with two mailboxes by the curb.
Joe glanced at the names listed on the mailboxes. "What's her last name now?"
Chris's head popped out. "Kai."
"This is the place, then."
"Good luck." Chris ducked back in.
While walking across the lawn dotted with weeds, wildflowers, and tufts of long grass, Joe regretted accepting the leadership role in the meet-and-greet portion of the plan. He thought Chris should be the one to flounder and fall. Simona was his sister-in-law after all. Although she might think Chris had killed her sister, Joe knew she wouldn't be happy to see him, either.
There had been no fight or anything along those lines. But, after Chris's wedding, Joe had said, with sweet pillow talk in her hotel room, that he would "call her sometime" and would "visit her in Hawaii" that same summer. Joe never did, though. Not that summer, not spring break, not the summer after. . .
And he avoided her calls. Until they stopped.
He was having too much fun at home and in college. Plus, everything he earned, he spent.
Chris chose well, but Simona was a close runner-up in every manner. So that wasn't the problem. He just didn't have the discipline to do the long-distance thing. Or have any desire to return to Hawaii. It was never really winter on Oahu and for that he was currently grateful. Still, it didn't make a good first impression on him. And his infatuation for Simona was neither true nor lasting.
It just wasn't meant to be. And rather than explain that, he let her figure that out for herself.
Then, Joe was out of steps. He was at the door, not ready, but as ready as he'd ever be to get this over with.
He tried the doorbell a couple of times. Not convinced it was working, he knocked instead. When he heard the scamper of children, and still got no answer, he tried again, increasing the volume.
The door swung open without any warning. Simona was before him, squinting in the bright morning sun, no doubt in his mind. She hadn't changed a bit. He was getting the confused, do-I-know-you look. Then he accepted that he was roughly five years older and wasn't wearing the glasses that would have made him instantly recognizable—not to mention what he'd been through in the past week.
"Hi, Simona. Long time, no see. . ."
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His voice apparently congealed everything for her because her expression went sour. "Joseph MacRae . . . you are the last person in the world I would ever expect to see here."
"Really? The last? I figure there would be a lot of people more unlikely than me." He tried to win some approval with a wink and a forced smile.
Simona crossed her arms. "Especially since the police have been making daily appearances. Maybe I should give them a call."
