Crypts and Crimes (Trixie Towers Book 3)

  Crypts and Crimes

  A TRIXIE TOWERS NOVEL

  SCARLETT DAWN

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Crypts and Crimes

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright 2020 © Scarlett Dawn

  Cover - Manuela Serra Book Cover Design

  Editing - RMJ Editing And Manuscript Service

  Format - Down Write Nuts Book Service

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Through time and crime,

  The crocodiles cried tears.

  Furious hearts will not die,

  Run away, my dears.

  Once were charmed,

  Forever enslaved.

  Rage! Rage!

  The Fae cannot change.

  The heart has no mercy...

  King Athon is a shifter prick.

  If only my dastardly soul mate was a little less intelligent. Alas, not only is King Athon the most powerful in the realm—alongside my father—the King of Shifters is also sharp and savvy. The vigilant predator makes it difficult to hide my truths, but I am the heir to the Elf Kingdom, a top notch swindler.

  I will prevail.

  With the five kingdoms in more trouble than we’d thought, the Misfits are even less forthcoming than usual, and all Fairy breaks loose while we search in the Caster Kingdom for the third artifact. Deep in the unsavory swamps, a deadly seduction thrives under a weeping tree. But the five rulers and I will not shirk our duty within those wicked shadows, even if we want to.

  My name is Trixie Towers. I utterly loathe my cruel soul mate, but the truly miraculous has happened. I’m beginning to detest the Fae even more than him.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About The Author

  DEDICATION

  To my grandmother,

  I’m hurting.

  Will you please ask Him what lesson I should learn from this?

  And I hate that you’re seeing my pain from above. You can look away. I know it’s horrible and you don’t want to watch your child suffer. I’ll understand.

  Love forever,

  S.D.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Confession of a princess:

  Lying to adversaries is far too easy. Enjoyable, even.

  You can pick and choose the story you weave, creating a perversion of beauty or of despair. A whole new state of awareness brews in their minds, all falling from your tongue, spun as far as your imagination can reach.

  But lying to one’s father—and king—is not pleasant.

  I feel dirty...

  THE STENCH OF decay and death clung to my overly exhausted body. The five rulers weren’t faring any better this evening, with the scent of long-past losses saturating the royal conference room at High Pointe, destroying a part of its elegance. The peculiar Fae glow that resided within the glass ceiling during nightfall, lighting the room in an array of different stunning hues, couldn’t even hold my inquisitive attention. Digging through a mass shifter grave would have that effect, an entirely disagreeable experience.

  I sniffed at my arm, barely managing not to choke. I cast my tired, emerald gaze at the five rulers where they spoke quietly to each other—the Misfits having just left with the Axe of Legend.

  The royals discussed my parents’ five hundredth soul-mated anniversary that was next week, the military logistics of all the royals congregating at the elven castle. Father wouldn’t want the other kingdoms’ crowned heads to be present at his celebratory affair, and they would not wish to attend, either—their resigned, long-suffering demeanors telling the truth—but it was proper to invite them and appropriate for every ruler to accept the invitation.

  Keeping the peace was paramount, no matter personal feelings. Our enemies would grace us with their presence. No one would like it. A new day would come without fighting. The peace would continue—end of story.

  I waited patiently for a lull in their exchange, and then I spoke quickly, lest they converge on a new topic. “King Traevon, may we go home now?”

  As I’d predicted, the other four rulers started a new conversation about what they might wear to the party, utterly ignoring me, as if I hadn’t been a huge part of helping them find the second artifact.

  My king turned his head in my direction, eyeing my disgusted, scrunched features while I sniffed at my red locks. His lips pinched into a thin line, and he squinted in fatigue. “Unless you’d like to ride the guards’ horses that are stationed outside, we’ll be staying the night here. We need to wait for our Fae-gifts to arrive.”

  Fae dammit all. Of course, he wouldn’t have ordered Javon to fly here from the bottom of the ice cliff. Father wouldn’t have risked his Fae-gift landing without warning at High Pointe, unless completely necessary. He’d want Javon safe at home.

  My own Fae-gift was securely tucked away in our royal stables, courtesy of Red Louie’s unexpected kindness. I wondered how Penelope enjoyed her time with the gremlin. He’d probably bribed her to behave with blue apples, the only way she would have complied with him and not stomped his bony, green ass into the ground after our latest horrible adventure with the Fae.

  I sighed heavily in defeat and placed a weak hand over my growling stomach. “They’ll come first thing in the morning?”

  “I’ll inform a guard of our needs shortly, my daughter.” His emerald gaze darted back and forth, scanning my tired face. Father’s lips tipped up at the edges in encouragement, compassion radiating from his gaze. “Go shower and sleep while I handle business. You know where my bedchamber is here.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with him. I dipped my head in appreciation, ignoring how my vision swam for a moment—or two. “Thank you, my king.”

  “You’re welcome, my daughter. Go to bed.” King Traevon returned his attention to the other rulers, joining the conversation easily. “Yes, my beautiful soul mate has matched our attire for the evening. It is quite stunning, as you can imagine. She is so talented.”

  I released a slow breath and crept behind the five royals, strolling as casually as I could, my eyes focused on the door. Walking across the white tile, I dragged my feet and gripped the royal desks to keep from falling over, trying to stay as quiet as a mouse. Gifting as much power as I had tonight to keep my dratted soul mate alive had cost my body dearly. That glorious high of adrenaline had worn off, and I was now near fainting and trying desperately to hide it.

  No one glanced in my direction…until I landed face-first on the shifter king’s royal desk. “Ow! Fae take it all.”

  Embarrassing.

  “Trixie?” Father asked quickly.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine,” I complained as I lifted my head from the desk to stare at
the door again. “I merely tripped.”

  “Get off my desk, elf,” King Athon barked. His heavy footfalls clomped behind me, and his large palms suddenly wrapped around my biceps from behind, jerking me up straight. His heat warmed my weary bones, my back practically on fire with it. “Have some damned respect.”

  “Unhand me, shifter.” I slashed a venomous glance over my shoulder. “Now.”

  Had the King of Shifters lost his bloody mind?

  Was he trying to start a fight?

  “Hands. Off. Her,” King Traevon demanded, his voice frightening in its calmness. “If I have to repeat that, you and I are going to have a real issue—one you won’t like the outcome to.”

  King Athon snorted. “I’ll do as I wish when it comes to my property. And that desk right there? Mine.”

  “For now,” Father hummed—full of meaning and intention.

  The King of Shifters’ hands were rough and bruising, but as he shoved me away from his desk, he whispered oh, so darkly, “Your father saw the tiger book. He knows where it came from.”

  I grunted and wobbled from my Fae damned soul mate’s push and kept my feet moving toward the door. Apparently, he hadn’t lost his mind. My eyes widened on my destination, and my backside stayed to the others. I sputtered, “As my king stated, don’t touch me again, Your Royal Highness. Unless you want your eyeballs burned out.”

  How in the Fairy was I going to lie my way out of this?

  Father was not unintelligent. I needed to think fast.

  I needed some kind of excuse for having that book in my bag.

  “Shut up, elf, before you fall on your face again.” King Athon snickered with much amusement. “Although, that was entertaining to watch.”

  I hadn’t known he had been looking. Shifter prick.

  I flashed my fangs, but he couldn’t see them, positioned as I was. I kept my mouth shut after that, only concentrating on my destination—and not landing on the floor. I eventually made it outside the room and gave up all pretenses when I was out of royal eyesight. I stumbled to and fro and held my stomach tight, the cramping from hunger heinous. Mayhap I should have had the delicious mutton pie, even if the shifter bitch had baked it.

  I blinked and shook my head. No. I wouldn’t go that far.

  I wouldn’t mind burning her again, though.

  That thought brought a smile to my face and a little pep to my wavering steps. I staggered through the main reception room, and then I used my left arm for support against the white hallway wall, almost to the royal chambers. I eventually opened King Traevon’s bedchamber door, slammed it closed behind me, and sagged against the wall in relief. It may have taken me far too long to arrive here, but I had accomplished it without tumbling again.

  “If only there was food,” I grumbled, casting my attention around the room—an elven sized sleep area with red bedcovers, a few black dressers, a stout vanity, a large mirror, and two doors leading to a bathroom and a closet. There was no food in sight. I nodded my head decisively, and I told myself sternly, “It’s only until morning. You can handle it.”

  I shoved myself off the wall and marched on feeble legs straight to the bathroom. I stuck my head under the sink’s faucet and drank greedy gulps of the fresh, cool water. Using the back of my hand, I wiped my mouth.

  I straightened to my full height of almost five feet, already feeling better from simply hydrating. My legs held steady as I lifted the strap of my bag over my head, letting it thump onto the tiling. I stripped out of my clothes and turned on the hot water for a relaxing bath.

  I stole shampoo off the counter that was purchased from the Merfolk Kingdom, specifically designed to help coarse hair. I’d used my royal firepower twice today, so my hair was brittle. I didn’t bother with bath beads, simply turning the water off, sitting my ass down into the tub, and then leaning my head back.

  I groaned long and hard before closing my eyes. “Oh, Fairy. This is good.”

  King Athon growled softly, his shifter timbre deep and jagged. “Have you learned your lesson, Princess?”

  I shoved my right hand over my mouth, stifling my scream. I jerked swiftly, swishing the water high in the bathtub, and twisted to face my soul mate. Behind my hand, I muttered in shock, “What in the Fae fuck are you doing in here?” Perhaps he had lost his mind.

  The King of Shifters leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom and crossed his massive arms over his muscled chest—his shirt gone somewhere already. He wiggled his bare toes on the chilly, white tile as he lifted one snarky, black eyebrow. His solid-black eyes stared directly into my rounded gaze, and he stated evenly, “King Traevon finally went downstairs to talk with his guards. We have a few minutes of privacy.”

  I lowered my hand and crossed my arms over my breasts, then curled my legs up, hiding as much as I could from his shrewd gaze. I snapped in aggravation, “What do you need? You already warned me about the tiger book.”

  The shifter king grunted. “Answer my question. Did you learn your lesson?”

  “What lesson?” I pulled my eyebrows together.

  “About gifting your power to a soul mate?” he answered simply.

  I tilted my head back in disbelief and stared at the wondrous stained glass of the ceiling. “You could have died out there if it wasn’t for what I had done. You should be thanking me, not criticizing me about it.”

  “What have you learned, Princess?” King Athon asked with forced patience, gritting each word out between his teeth. “You are not that daft.”

  “That I should always have spare food on me,” I spat. I dropped my head back down and glowered into his hard eyes. “Because my fucking soul mate can’t seem to keep himself out of harm’s way.”

  The shifter king’s chuckle was ruthless, his black eyes narrowing. “Look in the mirror before you point that finger at other people. I know what I can handle. You have yet to learn that about yourself.”

  I sniffed. He…may have a point there.

  King Athon pushed off the doorframe and prowled to the bathtub. He reached behind him, pulling something out of the back of his pants. The King of Shifters bent over at the waist, placing his face right in front of mine, the tips of our noses almost touching.

  I froze in place, dumbfounded. “What?”

  He held still for a heartbeat, and then his cruel expression unexpectedly tempered—somewhat. He opened his mouth, stating softly. “I wanted to say this privately, too, as it does mean so much to my people—and me. Thank you, Trixie. Thank you for helping to find my original.”

  My chin bobbed up and down in shock, and then I mumbled dumbly, “You already thanked me.”

  “It deserved repeating.” He dipped his head in a formal bow, and when his eyes lifted, his usual heated glower was back in place. His lips pulled back into a snarl, and he spoke quietly, “Remember your fucking lesson, elf.”

  I scowled. “You’re an ass.”

  King Athon’s golden circlet crown glittered in the unnatural lighting from high in the ceiling, while he grabbed my right hand and yanked it away from my chest. He slapped something into my palm, and he enunciated clearly, “I won’t help you again with this.”

  I flashed my fangs right in his face. “Bite me, shifter.”

  “I wasn’t the one begging to bite, if you remember correctly,” King Athon taunted, smirking cruelly as he stood to his intimidating height of six feet, six inches. He turned and walked away, ignoring the red flames that flashed in my eyes, commanding over his shoulder, “After you eat that, brush your teeth so King Traevon doesn’t smell it on your breath.”

  I looked down at what I now held—dried jerky strips.

  Knowing he could hear me, I mumbled absently, “I’m going to say that Louie gifted me the book.”

  The bedchamber door opened and clicked shut gently.

  * * *

  I flipped a page of the tiger book and curled my toes down into the soft mattress of Father’s bed. The words stretched before my eyes. I scrunched my nose in disg
ust, picturing my revolting soul mate shitting and pissing on everything to mark his territory, warning others away from what he considered his. I shook my head, and I remarked to myself, “That is not very kingly if you ask me. Shitting on things just to leave your scent there—even for the most backward shifter, it would be unseemly. Gross.”

  Father’s laughter burst through his bedchamber.

  My head jerked up, and my eyes widened, surprise holding me immobile. “When did you get in here?”

  King Traevon rubbed a towel over his head, drying his wet, red hair. His grin stretched across his entire face, his emerald eyes glinting with mirth. He sported a pair of black, silk pajama bottoms, obviously fresh out of the shower. “About twenty minutes ago.”

  Holy Fairy. The enemy could have slit my throat before I took notice they were here. My observational skills were sorely lacking tonight, as engrossed in this book as I was.

  I blinked. “Huh.”

  Father tossed the towel back into the bathroom and glanced down at the tome. He casually asked, “How did you manage to get that book, my daughter?”

  “I think Louie gifted it to me.” I wrinkled my red brows in false confusion and wiggled the book—just a little. “When he sent me away from King Athon’s study, I arrived with this in tow. It was lying right next to me on the bed.”

  King Traevon’s frank demeanor didn’t crack. “Do you know where that book is from?”

  I looked straight into his eyes. “I don’t have the foggiest idea. Although, I doubt it’s Fae since it’s about tigers.”

  “Hmm.” Father’s lips twitched at the corners. “It’s from King Athon’s study. I’ve often admired it on his shelf and have wanted it for my own for a very long time.”

  “Don’t even try to swindle me, my king.” I instantly clutched the book tight to my chest, frowning at my father’s sly antics—meant to pull on the heartstrings. “Louie gave it to me. You can borrow it from me when I’m done reading it. But it’s mine. Don’t forget that.”