Fae Eye for the Golem Guy: Artifice, #1

By Robert C Roman

Straight laced Micah Slate, security director for a small Philadelphia museum, is enthralled by Ophilia Morgan, a bohemian art restorer employed by the museum, but thinks she'd never look twice at someone like him. But he's got supernatural help from the Fairy Godfathers!

 

Both Ophilia and Micah have secrets that could interfere, even with the Fairy Godfathers doing their best to get them to their happily ever after!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert C Roman
• Release date: Nov 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223523505

Book preview

Artifice: Fae Eye for the Golem Guy

by Robert C Roman & Dana Marie Bell

Chapter One

Micah Slate wasn’t a happy Golem. Ladies. I’m certain we can bring this matter to an acceptable conclusion if we can discuss things rationally.

Teresa Gelt’s insufferably superior voice held pride of place as the main cause of his unhappiness. I beg to differ, you officious peon. There are three hooligans running free in your museum. As far as you’re aware, they’ve already defaced the works from my private collection!

Righteous indignation colored Miss Sullivan’ voice. Miss Gelt! I’ll thank you not to speak of my students like that!

I wasn’t speaking to you, harridan. I wouldn’t be speaking to the land mass here either, were he not barring our way into the museum. A museum I have every right to enter, as you know, Mr. Slate.

Micah barely registered Miss Sullivan’s retort. The Words in his head shifted from a quiet whisper to a low hum, and his temples ached in response. He needed to be out of here, to return to his proper duties.

When Micah spoke, he let his voice drop an octave and rise several decibels. Ladies! I assure you; my men and mechanical devices are the most effective available. A moment.

To buy time for his temper to cool, he drew a device from his coat pocket. With the flip of a few switches, the device printed a list of the locations and status of his men. All of them were at their stations, which meant that they had eyes on all the valuable displays. A few more adjustments and a new list scrolled across the face of the device on a fresh strip of paper. After a glance to confirm the content, he turned the face of the device to the two women, who peered curiously at it.

As you can see, Miss Sullivan, the only motion in the museum is in the men’s facilities.

Where are your vaunted guards? There are no guards! You told me there would be guards! Gelt grabbed at the device, intending to shake it. Her fury peaked when his arm did not yield a whit.

Calmly, Miss Gelt! My guards are not listed there. The device shows them on a separate list. You were informed of all this when we gave you a device duplicate to this one.

If you had paid any attention at all to the documents I gave you, you would know that, you insufferable blonde bitch.

Like I can be bothered to read your scribble or tote about that great hulking metal toy.

The device chattered quietly, the list updating itself as new information became available.

Look! Look! The restoration room! My artwork!

Micah pulled the device around, dislodging Gelt from his arm as he did so. He scanned the newly printed list. The restoration room was indeed listed. He simply didn’t have time for this tonight. Micah drew himself up to his full height and stilled Gelt’s shrill shrieking with a peremptory wave of his hand.

Ladies, as I’ve said several times before, if you will be so kind as to wait patiently, I will retrieve the missing students.

Micah nodded politely to the tweed clad form of the schoolteacher, who fell more than sat onto the bench next to the museum exit.

With the young men gone from the museum, your mind should be set at ease, Miss Gelt.

Micah’s icy gaze failed to have a quelling effect on Miss Gelt. Instead, a calculating look darted across her face, followed instantly by her habitual look of angry disdain. Micah was very tired of that look.

See here, you cheaply attired thug. The only reason the police have not been informed of this is the enormous insurance policy on my artwork. If I am forced to collect on that policy, I shall spend it purchasing your petty little museum, after which I will sue you personally into penury and have you imprisoned for fraud.

Micah turned abruptly and strode off. Gelt’s shouts of protest at his departure got louder when two of his men refused to allow her through the entryway of the museum. Technically she had a right to enter as part of the agreement that loaned her collection to the museum, but right now Micah had more important things to worry about than a spoilt heiress’ ostentation. As Micah raced through the halls, the Words in his head changed from a hum to a repetitious whine.

Protect the Art, Protect the Art, Protect the Art, Protect the Art, Protect the Art!

The throbbing in his temples led him unerringly down to the lowest public level of the museum. The curator had plans to turn this level into a cafeteria, but for now it housed a display of old armor and weapons. In silence broken only by his own footfalls, Micah heard the door to the men’s bathroom click shut. Micah hit the door with a crash, and three of the four young men inside went sprawling as the door knocked them backward. Small pocketknives skittered across the floor as the trio slipped on the slick tile.

The fourth boy was subtly different from the other three. Scruffier. Dirtier. Feral, with hints of unboylike facial hair and the look of fangs about his eyeteeth. Beyond all that, where the other boys wore the uniform of the Philadelphia School for Orphaned Boys, the fourth wore older clothes, badly mistreated and worn near to rags. The fourth boy jumped at Micah,