Tales from the City of Destiny

By Bethany Maines

Think you’re alone in this city? Think again. Goblins, faeries, vampires, and werewolves are all clawing for their piece of the American dream in Tacoma, Washington.

Ariana Grace is not just your average antiques dealer. This half-faery can sell you all the best “assets” – a great sense of humor, a new memory, or just the right amount of luck. If your problem seems impossible, if no one else can help, then Ariana Grace might have just the right asset for you. But be warned – magic has a mind of it’s own – everything may not go as you planned.

– The Dragon Incident, Spells of Murder, and The Devil’s Invitational have all been collected into one volume featuring five additional tales that reveal more about your favorite characters! Follow Ariana through 8 tales of mystery, murder, and adventure as she shows us just what’s lurking in Tacoma’s alley’s, pool halls, and brothels.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bethany Maines
• Release date: Jan 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370589968

Bethany Maines

Bethany Maines the award-winning author of romantic action-adventure and fantasy novels that focus on women who know when to apply lipstick and when to apply a foot to someone’s hind-end. She is both an indie and traditionally published novelist with many short story credits. When she's not traveling to exotic lands, or kicking some serious butt with her black belt in karate, she can be found chasing her daughter or glued to the computer working on her next novel.

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THE COLLECTED TALES

by

Bethany Maines

Dedication

Dedicated to:

Joseph Barlow

With special thanks to:

Floyd & Laura Bangeter

Jennae Phillippe & Karen Tully

Jim Thomsen

1987

Just Between You and Me

Third Place Winner of

Our OWN Words: Poetry & Fiction Contest

Miss Leslie Fenster, high school English teacher, sat at her desk and shook her head. In her hand was a piece of notebook paper, covered in the scrawling handwriting of two of her students. She had recovered the paper, originally folded with origami precision into a complex, tiny, locking form from the desk of Emily West, an overly romantic girl that Miss Fenster privately thought was headed for un-wed motherhood. Mess Fenster frowned and read the note one more time.

Emily: Let’s skip P.E. and go to the mall.

Ariana: Nah. I like P.E.

Emily: Oh, come on, where’s your sense of adventure.

Ariana: I sold it to a longshoreman who wanted to be a ballerina. He gave me a Nose for Trouble.

Emily: I think you have enough trouble with the nose you already have.

Ariana: Well, I didn’t keep the Nose. I traded to a bored Buddhist monk for some Inner Peace.

Emily: I’d settle for some outer pea…

The word was never finished because that was when Miss Fenster had snatched the paper from under Emily’s pen.

For Miss Fenster the English language was a clear and precise tool through which the world could be placed into an orderly system of adverbs, prepositional phrases, and punctuation. Miss Fenster took a dim view of word play and puns; she felt they indicated a disturbed mind. Miss Fenster looked over her glasses at Emily and Ariana. Emily was staring dreamily out the window. Given that this was Stadium High School and Miss Fenster’s room was on the third floor, the view was worth looking at, which was why Miss Fenster usually kept the blinds closed. Ariana was blowing pink, highly irritating, bubbles and playing with an armful of jellies bracelets, the kind that Madonna wore.

Emily, you may go. Tomorrow you will have a one page paper about our school’s absentee policy on my desk. Emily grimaced at her friend, grabbed her acid wash jean jacket and hurried out of the room.

Now then, Ariana. What is the meaning of this? Miss Fenster waved the paper back and forth.

Please define your pronoun, Miss Fenster, replied Ariana sweetly. The muscles along Miss Fenster’s jaw tightened.

Ariana, what is the meaning of the nonsense you wrote on this piece of paper?

It isn’t nonsense.

Do you expect me to believe that you sold your sense of adventure? Ariana, a sense of adventure is not a tangible object. You cannot sell a non-tangible object. Miss Fenster looked sternly at Ariana.

You mean education is a tangible object? Ariana’s face was innocent, but her eyes twinkled just a bit too much behind her heavily sprayed fringe of blonde bangs that curved in reflecting waves down toward her eyes and up toward the ceiling. I’m fairly certain that there are several colleges that would disagree with you. Miss Fenster opened her mouth to riposte, but Ariana cut her off. You know what you need Miss Fenster, is a sense of humor. I know where I can get one, real cheap. Ariana leaned forward and stretched her face into a smile that a used car salesman would have paid for.

Miss Fenster was uncomfortable. This was not the way after-school conferences were supposed to go. Ariana had a chaotic influence on the mind.

I don’t need a… Mis Fenster turned her head, trying to disconnect her eyes from Ariana’s. I don’t need a sense of humor. Miss Fenster fixed her eyes determinedly on her desk and shuffled through some papers. I certainly wouldn’t be silly enough to pay for one. Ariana walked over to Miss Fenster’s desk, her Keds squeaking just a little on the linoleum floor. Gently, she removed the papers from Miss Fenster’s nervous fingers.

You know what? I’m going to make you a deal. I’ll lend you my Sense of Humor for the next twenty-four hours. Free of charge. And if, by this time tomorrow, you aren’t perfectly convinced that you want a Sense of Humor of your very own I will never trouble you or your class again. What do you say Miss Fenster?

I say it’s ridiculous, said Miss Fenster, grabbing the papers back and slamming them together on the desk, trying to reclaim control of the situation. You don’t really expect me to believe that you can lend me a sense of humor, do you?

But Miss Fenster, what have you got to lose? If nothing happens or you don’t like it, then I agree to be a model student from now until graduation. Ariana held out her hand, ready to shake. How can you pass up a bargain like this?

Miss Fenster could never say afterwards just what came over her. She could only say that her hand had slowly risen, without any direction from her mind, and shaken Ariana’s hand.

You won’t regret this Miss Fenster. Trust me. Ariana picked up her bag and walked out of the room without being dismissed, but Miss Fenster didn’t even notice. After awhile, Miss Fenster locked her room, went to her car, and drove to the grocery store. In the store she absentmindedly selected a cart and wheeled into the frozen food section, which was where she began to notice the difference. Two ancient women stood next to the yogurt, gabbling about injuries and insults.

Oh yes, said the first, It’s true. That nasty dog bit me right below the coffee shop.

I didn’t realize you could get bit there, replied the second.

Miss Fenster found herself giggling all the way into the chips and soda aisle. There a man, with nothing but vegetables in his cart, was buying four bags of pigskins. Next to him a woman picked up two tins of bean dip and placed them in her cart next to a bottle of Pepto Bismol. After the toilet paper aisle Miss Fenster abandoned her cart and drove home.

The next morning Miss Fenster was late for the staff meeting. She had started watching a Bugs Bunny cartoon and hadn’t been able to tear herself away. However, when she explained her lateness to Mrs. Smith, the head of the English Department, she merely got an uncomprehending glare for her pains. And then Miss Fenster had the temerity to laugh at Mr. Tarlton, the P.E. teacher, and one of his jokes. Miss Fenster got the feeling that she’d be making the English department coffee for the next two months.

Miss Fenster hurried through the day, anxiously awaiting sixth period and Ariana. Although in second period, she did pause long enough to laugh out loud at Joe, the class clown. The students whispered among themselves that either the world was ending or Miss Fenster was headed for the Western State Mental Hospital.

Sixth period came, and then went. The bell rang and the class rushed away like the tide, leaving Ariana behind like an immovable rock.

So Leslie, purred Ariana steepling her fingers. How did you like having a Sense of Humor?

It was nothing but trouble! exclaimed Miss Fenster, ignoring the use of her first name. I laughed at complete strangers in the grocery store, Mrs. Smith thinks I’m insane, Mr. Tarlton said we should get together sometime, and now Joe thinks he can get away with his shenanigans, just because they happen to be funny! A sense of humor is nothing but trouble! Miss Fenster paused, realizing that she had just uttered a run-on sentence.

Leslie, you’re not looking at things from the right point of view. Think how boring life is without humor. I mean, when was the last time you had that much fun at a grocery store? As for the teachers, well, Mrs. Smith thinks everyone is insane and Mr. Tarlton is kind of cute.

What about Joe? asked Miss Fenster sullenly.

You’re more than a match for Joe. Trust me. Ariana smiled her predator smile. Leslie, can you honestly tell me that you’d like to live your life without a Sense of Humor? Go ahead, picture it. A whole life of nasty children, boring people, stupid jokes, oddly shaped vegetables, just being oddly shaped vegetables… The list goes on. Do you really want to be that bored for the rest of your life?

Miss Fenster shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Then raised her eyes and whispered, This doesn’t leave the room, right?

Don’t worry, this is just between you and me. Now let’s talk about price.

1991

The Dragon Incident

Red Square

Jesse hurried across the square, eyes fixed on Ariana. She sat on the edge of the fountain, basking in the remnants of the late October sunshine and listening to another student playing decent guitar behind an open guitar case with a sign that read, Please help me pay for my bullshit parking ticket. Her collar was turned up against the breeze that never seemed to cease in Bellingham, but her face was turned up to the sun. Her short blonde hair, un-spiked today, fell away from her forehead in a wave and her profile showed in clear outline like the cameo brooch his grandmother always wore. At the memory of the brooch, Jesse’s eyebrows went up in surprised recognition, and his hurried step checked a little.

Old-fashioned, blurted out Jesse, coming to a stop.

Highball, retorted Ariana without opening her eyes.

No, I mean, said Jesse, dropping his book bag, that’s what you remind me of. One of those old paintings. He dropped beside her on the bench with a wince as his ribs protested the movement.

Nonsense, said Ariana, opening the eye closest to him a sliver and watching him carefully. Those women had a bit more… She used her hands to make gestures out in front of her.

Boobs? asked Jesse.

I was thinking girth, said Ariana. But yes, those too.

Jesse rubbed his ribs, trying to ease the nagging pain, as someone approached them—a jock in a white baseball cap, flannel shirt, jeans and annoyingly unlaced Doc Martens. Jesse recognized the guy from a house party his roommate had dragged him to. Unlaced Doc Martens might look cool, but they tend to pop off awkwardly in the middle of a keg stand.

How’d the test go, Neil? asked Ariana, smiling up at the newcomer. Jesse watched Neil look from Ariana over to him, and decide Jesse wasn’t worth worrying about. Jesse tugged at the neckline of his Club Tijuana jersey. He never felt comfortable with popular kids like Neil. In Jesse’s opinion, Neil Sanders was a total douche who seemed to think he was cooler than playing football at a Division 2 school actually rated. Jesse could never understand how other people didn’t see the same thing.

Aced it, said Neil, but his expression wasn’t happy, and Jesse understood why. It never felt good to come back to Ariana.

Then I’ll be taking what’s mine, she said.

I need more, Neil said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Sorry, said Ariana. You can’t stay on this stuff too long.

How do you know? he demanded. And Jesse swallowed, and looked around the quad. Neil’s confrontational tone made him feel awkward.

Because I’ve seen it happen, said Ariana with an easy smile. Now take your pill and be a good boy. She held out her hand. Jesse knew it would be a small purple pill. It would taste sweet and it would feel like nothing, but an hour from now, the jock would be hungry and dry-mouthed and wishing for a taco and a beer. The jock didn’t take the pill and Ariana shrugged, putting her hand down.

There’s two ways to come down from this, she said. The easy way or the hard way. It’s up to you, but you’re going to pay either way. And that’s fifty dollars you owe me.

I don’t see why I can’t just take another one, said Neil.

It’s not that kind of drug, said Ariana. Fifty dollars. She held out her hand and stared up into the jock’s eyes. Reluctantly, he handed over a fifty-dollar bill. Thanks, she said, checking her watch and standing up. Grabbing his hand, she put the purple pill in it. You’ve got about thirty seconds. I suggest taking it.

Whatever, he said, dropping the pill and grinding it into the bricks with his shoe. He walked away, but he hadn’t gone far when he doubled up in pain. You’re going to regret this.

Not as much as you will. She shook her head. She looked at Jesse as if just remembering he was there. He smiled hopefully.

The drug timeline is pretty specific, isn’t it? asked Jesse.

Yes, it is, agreed Ariana. What can I do for you, Jesse? She started to walk toward the library. He followed, feeling clumsy and stupid.

I need a hit, he said.

I can’t do any more today, she said. I need to do calculus homework.

I’m not that bright, said Jesse. I guess you know that. Why else would I be coming to you? He laughed, embarrassed.

You’re plenty bright, Jesse; you’re just not doctor material. Blood makes you puke.

Yeah, I know. That’s why I switched majors.

You tell your Dad? she asked, smiling slightly. Jesse twitched nervously at the thought.

No, no, I figured that could wait. No reason to upset the apple cart. But speaking of puking… um… Jesse paused, well aware he was treading on thin ice. But he was desperate. Last time I bought some stuff from you it was to take that anatomy final. Remember?

Sure, said Ariana, as if she didn’t really remember, or didn’t really care, or both. Anatomy.

Yeah, pressed Jesse, gathering his courage. I took your stuff and then I went in for the written and then everyone gloved up and we all went into the dissection area. And I don’t know if it was the dismembered body parts or the formaldehyde, but I…

You puked? said Ariana. Sorry, Jesse, but it can’t help you with the puking.

Er, yeah, but the thing is that even after I puked, I still felt smarter. And I could actually see your pill in my puke, which meant it wasn’t wholly digested and it occurred to me to wonder just what was in it, so I picked it out and I… She was staring at him now, in that hard cold way that made her look so foreign. I had some friends over in the pharmaceutical program and I had it analyzed. They said it wasn’t anything. They said it was…

A placebo, finished Ariana for him.

But I was smarter, said Jesse earnestly. My test scores prove it. And the pain Neil felt was real. I’ve thought about it and thought about it and I don’t know how you do it, but it’s real. I know it’s real.

What’s your point? asked Ariana brusquely. What do you want?

Um, Jesse hesitated. Well, the thing is… I need to be smarter.

Why?

I’m in trouble, he said, feeling his palms start to sweat. I need to be smarter so I can figure a way out.

I’m going to regret this, said Ariana, as they approached the library doors, but why don’t you tell me about it?

Jesse shook his head. I can’t tell anyone.

What is it, Jesse? asked Ariana impatiently. Gambling debts? Flunking something? Crashed your daddy’s car? Got a girl pregnant? Trust me, whatever it is, it’s not life-threatening. Well, maybe the gambling debts, but, still, you’ve only got to go to the police. They’ll help you out.

I went to the police, said Jesse miserably. They threw me out.

She frowned. Jesse, what have you gotten yourself into?

There’s a girl, said Jesse. Her name is Mariposa. I met her at Legs.

A stripper, Jesse? Really?

Well, yeah, OK, she’s a stripper, said Jesse uncomfortably.

Jesse, she said earnestly, placing a hand on his shoulder. No matter what the stripper says, they don’t really like you; they just like your money. There is no sex in the champagne room.

What? No! He knocked her hand off his shoulder. It’s not like that! Ariana’s expression remained doubtful. Look, I love her and she loves me. I’m pretty sure she loves me, anyway. He began to falter in the face of her pointed stare. But the point is, she’s in trouble!

Jesse, said Ariana. I like you, but I’m not… I can’t help you.

She turned and began to pull open the heavy wooden door to the library, but Jesse reached over her shoulder and pushed it shut with an aggressive smack. Yes, you can, said Jesse. She pivoted around slowly and he could see he’d pissed her off. He wanted to turn tail and run, but he couldn’t.

You are a fixer, right? he asked, hoping to forestall her tirade. That’s the word on campus—you help people fix their little problems.

For a fee, said Ariana icily.

I will pay you a fee, said Jesse. Whatever fee you want, but you have to help me. They are going to sacrifice her.

Define ‘sacrifice her’? Her expression was suspicious.

Jesse hesitated, his palms sweating. It was at this point that the police had threatened to have him involuntarily committed and thrown him out of the police station. He licked his lips. They’re going to sacrifice her to a… mumble, mumble.

Sorry, what was that? demanded Ariana, leaning closer.

Jesse shifted his feet. He knew it sounded ridiculous, and honestly there were moments he didn’t even believe it. But he knew they believed it, and that made it a problem.

To a dragon, he said at last.

Dragon’s don’t exist anymore. Ariana turned back to the door. Jesse pushed it closed again. People tended to forget that he was six-three and worked out every morning as part of the soccer team because he was just so darn forgettable. But that didn’t mean they should forget him.

Stop doing that!

I know it sounds crazy, but they believe it. I don’t know if it’s a metaphor or what, but there have been other fires… he trailed off, his brain catching up with his mouth. What do you mean ‘anymore’?

What do you mean, ‘other fires’?

They glared at each other. Ariana spoke first.

I’m pretty sure there’s a virginity requirement.

Mariposa’s a virgin, he said.

You’re shitting me.

"No, she’s here illegally, and her mom’s pretty sick, so she had to take the job she could get and that’s stripping. But I mean, that’s just what she does to make money. She’s a lot more than a stripper. She’s an awesome soccer player and she does