Page 43 of Devils Don’t Deal

I snuggled my rabbit and tasted caramel cream while my heart slowed and all of me soared.

Chapter

Thirteen

Igot up early the next morning to open the bakery, feeling much, much better. And the taste of caramel still lingered while I baked, so naturally it was a caramel-themed day: caramel drizzle on a pretty, stacked toffee cake, and caramel coffee rolls, with a batch of caramel and chocolate macarons.

I was so happy for no reason since someone else had hired the goblins to release the Lady of the Wild Woods, and I was their target, not the devil. And I only had a small amount of baked goods compared to the first day, so the profits would be small, except that my dad had changed all the prices, giving me a solid glare while he did it so I didn’t dare say anything.

He was so sweet, like the devil. So sweet, and I’d kiss the devil again tonight before dinner. We were going to some fancy restaurant, and we’d kiss in the back of the car the way normal people made out.

I was daydreaming stupidly like that, Divinity perched on the mushroom puff between me and the door, when the bell jangled, and in walked the prettiest fairy boy I’d ever seen. I straightened and only winced slightly from the movement. If I kept kissing the devil, I’d be better in no time. Caramel. Sigh.

“Welcome to The Rabbit Hole,” I said cheerfully while the boy, who was all polished dewdrops and glowing daffodils, came over, green eyes sparkling while his yellow hair looked like melted butter.

“You aren’t a goblin.” His pout was so pretty.

“I’m a goblin-fairy.” I bared my teeth in a sharp smile that had him stumbling back two steps.

His brow furrowed as he moved closer, looking me over like he was searching for green skin. “That’s impossible.”

“Well, I’m affiliated with Wonderland, and impossible isn’t something we give a lot of heed to. Would you like to order something?”

His magical eyes lit up. “Wonderland? Like the devil’s casino?”

“That’s the one. So, what can I get you? I have some nice tea with pretty floral notes, but I also have a special blend designed for goblins.” Not really, but I’d make this pretty creature something green that satisfied his longing for something dark and dangerous while appealing to his actual nature.

“Get me goblin tea. And some sweetbreads.”

I smiled at him while I wondered why pretty people had to be so stupid. Sweetbreads would make him sick. Fairies didn’t usually eat meat, much less organs. “Sure. I have a fresh batch coming out in twenty minutes. Would you like to sit at the table with your tea while it bakes? You can have some basic spun flowers while you wait.”

He hesitated then nodded. “Draskri gave me one of your spun confections and said a goblin made it.” My mother’s great-uncle’s name was Draskri.

I stared at him. “Great-uncle Draskri?”

He stared back at me, frowning as he looked me over again. “You’re related to Draskri?” He looked so disappointed.

“I’m the relative he never talks about,” I reassured him then quickly mixed his fairy blend with some green buds that would give it a slight earthly flavor and a green hue that should evoke goblin.

I carried the prettiest teacup with a pretty spun flower out to him, poured, then hurried to the back to make some vegan sweetbreads. “Dad, can you go up front and watch the counter for me?” I asked as I grabbed a bowl and started mixing the flour.

“Do you want me to scare him away? Did he insult you?” He looked meaner than usual, brows low over golden glowing eyes.

“No, he likes dangerous goblins. Did he insult me? I don’t think telling me I can’t exist is an insult, exactly. How did you guys manage to have me?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t tell me.

He gave me a sharp look then headed to the front, leaving me to beat the dough a little more energetically than necessary. Of course he hadn’t told me. When I’d asked the first time someone had told me I couldn’t exist, my mother had assured me that she’d tell me when I was older. When I was older, she brushed it off with various excuses—she was tired, or love made anything possible, or it was fate. Seriously, I deserved to know how I’d come to be. What if I wanted to have kids someday? The memory of caramel had me throwing some brown sugar and butter into a pan on the stove. The sweetbreads were going to be actually sweet. With a nice vanilla glaze on top of the caramel. That would be so pretty.

I smiled as I baked, looking forward to dinner…and the kiss.

I came out of the back to see my dad pouring another cup of green tea for the pretty fairy boy.

“You should drink with me,” the daffodil fairy said to my dad earnestly.

“You should tip well,” my dad responded before looking up at me and winking. He walked around the counter, put the pot back, then passed me into the back without saying anything, but his amusement was obvious. This fairy boy wasn’t a threat.

Maybe the pretty fairy boy would know more about my great-uncle than I did. I knew hardly anything, and he was the only one I could think of who’d want me dead.

I poured a cup for me and went over to smile at him. “Can I sit?”