The Naughty List Read online

  “Comes up about once a generation. Don’t know what the big deal is and I told him so. Hell, he has as much human blood as the rest of us. After all, his mother was human.”

  “It’s more about sharing power,” said Sadhri. “Another vote on the council means less influence for Dominic.”

  Latisha shrugged. “Could be, or maybe his uncle is on his ass. The old Baal never wanted anything to upset the status quo. I told Dominic everything was hunky dory with the furies. Now if you’ll excuse me ladies,” she flexed her fingers. “I gotta go persuade Mr. Martino to leave his ex-girlfriend alone.”

  Grace filled in Brian on her next visit. “Was Latisha right? Could the wardens put a human on the council?”

  “Stephen is all for it. An odd number of wardens prevent deadlocks. His dad, the last Odin, was old school like Dominic’s uncle—stay hidden, don’t make waves. Many Integrals now want something more. The opportunity for advancement within the corporation is limited, especially for lower level clans. Many want to assimilate into the human world, but need help. Look at Latisha. She’s a hard-working civil servant with a human husband, two kids, and a mortgage. She had to find a way out on her own and deal with criticism from the old guard.”

  Grace eyed her husband lovingly. “You were always concerned their voices weren’t heard.”

  “Some wardens listen. Stephen asked me at the party for my support even though I’m not a warden. He wanted to meet later to talk over a plan to approach the others.”

  Her eyes flew open. “You didn’t tell me—”

  “I planned to. The request slipped my mind when The Book disappeared.”

  “No wonder he wanted your support,” Grace remarked. “You have the respect of Integrals across the board. Did you agree?”

  “Of course.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “You think the theft has something to do with this?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m certain Dominic’s hands aren’t clean.”

  “Unfortunately, love, the wardens need stone cold proof, not belief.” Grace understood her husband’s meaning. All the proof was in The Book.

  Brian forced a smile. “Now kiss me quick before you say goodbye.”

  Her eyes saddened. “Touching hurts you.”

  “It helps me more.”

  ****

  Rosalie had sto Csal>

  A knock sounded at the door. Rosalie groaned. She was not in the mood for company. Maybe if she stayed quiet, the person would go away. Someone knocked again.

  “Rosalie?” A man cleared his throat. “May I have a word, please?”

  She wrinkled her brow, not recognizing the voice. Sliding the chain across, she cracked open the door.

  “Hi. I’m David. I’m not a stalker—”

  She slammed the door in his face. How dare he show up at her home! Rosalie’s fingers clenched.

  “Please,” he begged. “I really need to talk to you.”

  She glanced around for her purse.

  David rapped again. “Rosalie, give me five minutes…one minute?”

  She reached inside and pulled out an aerosol can and her phone. He would so regret this.

  “You don’t understand.” David pounded on the door. “You’re in danger.”

  The door whipped open. Rosalie stood tight-jawed with a small aerosol can in one hand and her cell phone in the other. “Either cops or pepper spray. You have five seconds.”

  “Rosalie, please—”

  “Four.”

  “If you just—”

  “Three.”

  “Please, listen—”

  “Two.”

  “Um…I know Santa.”

  “One.”

  David vanished. An instant later two hands behind her yanked both the can and cell phone away. She spun around and stared dumfounded as he threw the pepper spray on the floor and put the cell phone in his pocket. How did he move so fast?

  “Rosalie, if you only—ow!” She kicked him in the shin. “Quit it! I won’t hurt you. I only want to talk.” He motioned to the bag on the floor. “I brought dinner.”

  “I don’t care if you brought your own personal chef!” she yelled. “Get the hell out of my apartment. You…you…snitch.”

  He looked completely perplexed. “I think we have a

  misunderstanding—”

  “That’s it—I’m making some noise.” Rosalie took a deep breath as if to scream. David’s hand shot out and grabbed her. The apartment dissolved into nothingness.

  Chapter Five

  “Aaaaa—” Rosalie cut off in mid-yell. Her head whipped back and forth in stunned amazement. “W-Where the hell am I? What did you do?” Her heart thumped wildly as she gulped in a deep lungful of air.

  “We’re on top of Penrose’s.” David leaned over and rubbed his shin. “Damn, that’s gonna leave a bruise. You didn’t have to kick me, you know—”

  “Penrose’s? Penrose’s?” She gawked at the flat asphalt surface under her feet. Impossible, but they were suddenly four stories above the parking lot down below. “How did we get here?” she demanded, fear tingeing her voice. “I don’t remember anything—” Fear turned to rage as the only logical explanation hit her. “You slipped Fsal> ce.me a roofie.”

  “Of all the… I would never…” he protested with an indignant sputter. “I’m sorry I scared you. If you listen for a moment, I’ll explain everything.”

  “Forget it. You have nothing I need to hear.” Rosalie backed up with a glare not realizing she was dangerously close to the edge of the building.

  “Rosalie, wait!” David leaped forward to stop her. Startled by his sudden movement, she stumbled, hit the low curb around the roofline, and lost her balance. Flailing wildly, Rosalie screamed as she toppled over the side.

  David snagged her hand. “I have you!” He held on with a grimace, bracing his feet against the low wall. Her fingers inched out of his grasp.

  “Help me,” she choked out, panic-stricken. “I can’t hold on.”

  David strained with the effort to pull her up. . “I…won’t…let…you…fall.”

  Her fingers slipped. Rosalie stared in horror at the concrete below. She screamed and suddenly the world went black again.

  “Oof!” She landed with a crash in the middle of her apartment with David on top of her. Rosalie squirmed out from underneath, in the process booting him in the head.

  “Ow, ow, ow! What is it with you? Stop kicking me.”

  “What is it with me?” she echoed in disbelief.

  Rosalie crab-walked backwards and hunkered against the wall. He was irritated! At her! He popped in and out of everyplace like nobody’s business. He dragged her up to rooftops. Rosalie’s terror evaporated. Her cheeks grew hot. She was really, really pissed. “Are you serious?” she squawked. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  Instead of becoming angry or defensive at the outburst, to her befuddlement David leaned back on his hands and stared blankly at the ceiling. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. I’m beat and I’m starving and I’m about at the end of my rope.” His shoulders sagged, the picture of dejection. He reached into his pocket and slid Rosalie’s cell over to her. “Call the cops. I don’t give a damn, anymore. They’re the least of my problems. Anyway, I’ll dash-away before they get here.”

  He staggered to his feet and brushed himself off. “Screw it. I’m gonna eat.” David picked up the bag from the Golden Palace sitting on the floor, and began unloading cartons on the table. “You’re welcome to join me. I brought plenty. Frankly, I could use the company.” He opened a kitchen cupboard and pulled out two plates. “I hope you don’t mind. I hate eating out of a carton.”

  “So do I,” she blurted out without thinking.

  As Rosalie watched him, her emotions faded from blood-in-her-eye fury to simmering outrage before finally settling in on cautious wariness with a creamy dollop of curiosity on top. She stared at the phone in her hand. Her thumb hovered over the touchpad. She could dial 9-1-1 in a flash. Her gaze ret
urned to the strange young man. Whoever or whatever David was, he made no aggressive moves.

  A delightful aroma from the Golden Palace carry-out bag reached her nose. She hadn’t eaten since early morning and now realized he wasn’t the only one starving in the room. As she tried discreetly to suck in the drool, her stomach betrayed her with an audible gurgle. Her cheeks heated.

  David’s lips twitched in a half-smile. “How about you serve? I’ll eat whatever you dish out. That way you’ll know nothing is poisoned. Also, I prefer spring rolls to egg rolls, but if you rather have the spring rolls I won’t fight you for them.” He reached under Kreahalf-smile the table to where the pepper spray rolled. Rosalie’s heart thumped until he placed the aerosol can at the side of her plate. “Hang onto it if it makes you feel better.”

  Rosalie’s eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the young man. What the hell was this guy? He didn’t froth at the mouth. Do psychopaths froth? She had no idea. He didn’t sprout antenna or spew acid, so probably not an alien. If an alien abducted her would he offer Chinese first? Again, no clue. Her stomach rumbled more loudly. Make up your mind already, it seemed to say. Rosalie sidled cautiously across the room and slid into the seat. She placed her cell on the table, and then without a word ladled mounds of food onto each of their plates. She even gave him a spring roll.

  David nodded his thanks and offered her a pair of chopsticks. He dug in with relish, declaring blissfully, “Awesome. You should eat before the food gets cold.”

  Rosalie eyed him in disbelief. He’s sitting there…so normal…like nothing ever happened. She burst out, “What the hell are you?”

  He swallowed and answered in all seriousness. “I’m an elf.”

  Rosalie stiffened. Her mind immediately filed his comment under Lunatic Ramblings. She scanned the tabletop now littered with empty cartons from the Golden Palace. Where did she put that damn pepper spray?

  David laid down his chopsticks. “I know what you think, but could I do this…” With a puff of air, he disappeared and then reappeared almost immediately. “…if I were an ordinary human?”

  Rosalie’s jaw dropped open. Her brain rifled through dozens of explanations before she settled on the most logical one. “I’m in a coma. You are a hallucination caused by a severe allergic reaction to the elf hat.”

  “No coma,” declared David cheerfully. “No hallucinations, no allergic reactions, although continued use of that hat will definitely lead to serious mental health issues.”

  Why is my hallucination arguing with me? “Elves don’t exist,” she insisted.

  “And yet…” He spread his arms with a flourish. “Here I am.” He popped out and in again. “Ta-da.”

  His carefree attitude was maddening. Rosalie had offered a rational scenario to convince him she was crazy and he wasn’t real. Damn it, why didn’t the hallucination get the point and leave her alone in the nice coma ward? She tried again. “Elves are a foot tall, and you’re like…what? Five-seven?”

  “Five-eight and a quarter,” he bristled. Height was obviously a touchy subject even to a figment of her imagination. “And I’m not an elf. I’m an E-L-F, all capitals. The letters stand for Elemental Life Form. All E.L.F.s are Integrals, early beings tied to the aggregate forces of nature. There are others. We call them the three D’s—Demons, Divinities, and Deities.”

  Her brain registered the words, but they didn’t process. “You…divinities…what?”

  David regarded her with obvious approval. “Most humans would have run screaming from the room by now.” He tapped his chopstick on her plate. “You eat. I’ll explain.”

  Staring transfixed at the elf or rather E.L.F, Rosalie picked up a chopstick. Let him speak. In a few minutes a nurse will enter with my meds and I’ll fall back into oblivion. She took a bite of orange chicken, surprised at how delicious the imaginary food tasted. Hopefully the nurse would take her time.

  “As I said, E.L.F.s are Integrals; so are dryads, gnomes, Japanese Kami, the Indian Vedic, Viking war gods, the Greek and Roman Keek">“As I mythos, and a host of others. We keep a low profile for safety. Contrary to popular belief, the stories about us as all powerful are hooey, only one or two extraordinary skill per Integral. E.L.F.s teleport.”

  Rosalie swallowed. The chicken was excellent, just like the chicken at the Golden Palace. She couldn’t remember ever eating a realistic dinner in a dream. The food smelled great, too. She’d never smelled anything in a dream either. Doubts about the coma theory crept in. She eyed him suspiciously. “If Integrals are real, how come people don’t know about you?”

  David shrugged. “Integral numbers were always shaky, made more so by infighting and turf battles. Over the centuries, we interbred with humans, lost the physical aspects, but retained mystical elements. Now we look like everybody else.”

  Rosalie hesitated. He sounded so reasonable. Her steadfast belief in a mental breakdown faltered. “Let’s say, I believe you, and I don’t, because I still like the coma theory, but for conversation sake—what do you want with me?”

  “Integrals maintain a hidden organization. Many own mystical weaponry and treasures handed down from generation to generation. People would kill to get their hands on them, not to mention…” He shifted uncomfortably. “…some of us are descended from hellspawn. Let’s just say I know more than a few you should never borrow money from. As a precaution, long ago Integrals decided the most powerful objects should be kept under lock and key at corporate headquarters in New York City.”

  Rosalie nearly choked on her eggroll. “You’re incorporated?”

  “Of course. We pay our taxes. No one wants to mess with the IRS. Certain families because of their inbred sensitivity to the objects are chosen as guardians. That brings me to why I’m here. One of the objects disappeared. I tracked The Book to Penrose’s.”

  Rosalie gave him the eye. “I don’t know where you get your intel, but I assure you we don’t stock magical relics, not even special order.”

  David’s banter vanished. Through a crack in the E.L.F.’s friendly façade, Rosalie glimpsed something hidden underneath. Concern? No…fear. Unconsciously, she shivered. What rattles a mystical being with the ability to teleport away at the first sign of trouble? Now would be a good time to wake up from this dream. But you don’t believe this is a dream or a hallucination anymore, do you?

  Desperation crept into his voice. “The Book is in Penrose’s. I know it. I feel it. I just can’t find it.”

  “Why come to me?”

  “You know the store.” He dropped his gaze. “I hadn’t planned to reveal myself to anyone at Penrose’s. Integrals keep their existence on the down low for security reasons, but…” He fumbled with the words, his face growing red. “You got into trouble because of the candy and the notes. I decided before asking for help, I owed you an apology.”

  “I thought you were a Sneaky Shopper,” Rosalie blurted out and then chuckled in embarrassment. “You have the right skill set.”

  Some of the weariness left the E.L.F.’s face. “I guess I do, but the Sneaky Shopper was the lady with the red eyeglass frames. I followed her when she tailed you and heard her call your boss. I thought maybe if I explained everything…” He reached out and grasped her hand. “Please, Rosalie, I need someone who knows all the ins and outs of Penrose’s. If The Book gets into the wrong hands…”

  He looked so lost. Rosalie’s skin warmed under his touch. She cleared her throat. “Why did you leave the notes?”

  He lookalign="justify">“I…well…I wanted to see you smile.” He dropped her hand and flushed. “People haven’t done much smiling lately since The Book disappeared.”

  Rosalie eyed him askance. “All this over a book?”

  “Not just a book. The Book. The most magical, powerful book of all, one of the oldest mystical relics. My family is the official keeper. The duty was passed down for dozens of generations and became mine when I turned twenty-one. The Book is a codex tapping into each individual’s unique spiritual essenc
e. Grievances and moral choices are weighed and measured. The result is the separation of humans and Integrals into two lists with the propensity for virtue on one side verses baser characteristics on the other that detour an individual from a righteous path.”

  Rosalie wrinkled her brow, straining to understand. “Okay, a book with two lists. On one side are nice people, and on the other…” Her eyes widened. Oh, no. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t possibly mean… She shot him a piercing gaze. He looked away and studied an empty take-out carton. Oh, cripes. “The Book is the Naughty and Nice List!” She sunk back into her seat, stunned. “Are you telling me I’m sitting across the table from one of Santa’s Elves?” Where is the nice nurse with those meds?

  David cleared this throat. “I never exactly said I wasn’t. He’s the Santa, by the way, an honorary title, given to the head of clan E.L.F. Chief of Norse deities is called the Odin, head of Middle Eastern Demons is the Baal, that sort of thing. Dad’s real name is Brian.”

  “Dad? He’s your father?”

  “Well, yeah. I told you, The Book is a family thing. Dad is a direct descendant of a Norse forest deity. You’d like him. Helluva nice guy, nothing ever fazes him.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “He’s jolly.”

  “All right, fine,” David added with an eye roll. “He’s jolly, but not fat. He works hard to keep off the middle-age spread. He and Mom go to the gym.”

  “There’s a Mrs. Claus, too?”

  “Of course,” he sputtered. “I didn’t spontaneously generate from nothing. Her name is Grace, she’s human, and has an MBA… Mom and Dad met in college. By the way, the last name is K-l-o-s-s. Great-great-grandpa tweaked the spelling when the family immigrated back in the 1880’s.”

  “The rest of the legend is nothing but bunk,” the E.L.F. continued. “Live at the North Pole? My folks own a condo in New York City, and Dad hates the cold. Toys built by elves? If nothing else, Integrals are excellent business people. None of us will give away stuff for free or work without good medical, dental, and retirement plans.”