As You Wish (How To Be The Best Damn Faery Godmother In The World (Or Die Trying) Book 3) Read online

  As You Wish

  By Helen Harper

  BOOK THREE OF

  HOW TO BE THE BEST DAMN FAERY GODMOTHER IN THE WORLD (OR DIE TRYING)

  Copyright © 2019 Helen Harper

  All rights reserved.

  BOOK COVER DESIGN BY YOCLA DESIGNS

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter One

  I gave the short purple-haired faery in front of me my very best smile. ‘So,’ I said, ‘he’s all fixed now then, right? I won’t have any more problems with him?’

  ‘He’s exactly the same as he was before. I haven’t done anything.’

  My smile vanished. He’d been in with her for almost an hour. ‘Why not?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist,’ she grumbled. ‘You might be a faery godmother but that doesn’t mean I have to kowtow to your every demand.’

  ‘I wasn’t…’ I grimaced and took a deep breath. I needed her on my side. Desperately. ‘I didn’t mean to make demands. And I’m not trying to take advantage of you. I just want to help this little guy.’

  She saw right through me. ‘There’s nothing wrong with him. He needs to lose some weight so you should stop over-feeding him. Other than that, he’s perfectly healthy. There’s nothing for me to do.’

  Pumpkin waddled over and nudged her hand. She reached down absent-mindedly, allowing the little Jack Russell terrier to give her a delicate lick with his pink tongue. Compared to the looks of hatred and quiet growls I normally received from him, this was effusive enthusiasm indeed.

  The animal faery patted his head. ‘He’s very friendly. I don’t know what you’re worrying about.’

  ‘He hasn’t let me touch him for two weeks!’

  ‘Maybe he doesn’t like your shampoo. Try using something different.’

  I threw my hands up in frustration. ‘He pees on everything.’

  She shrugged. ‘He’s nervous and is merely marking his territory. He’ll get over it.’

  ‘I have to request a new magic wand on Monday because he chewed mine last night and left splinters all over the carpet. I’m still picking them out of the soles of my feet.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have left it lying around. And perhaps,’ she added pointedly, ‘you should invest in a vacuum cleaner.’

  I sighed. ‘He hates me. He blames me for the death of his previous owner, and he spends every minute of every day plotting revenge.’

  It was true. His owner, an elderly woman called Rose Blairmont, had been my client. When I’d first met her, she was being hunted down by a crooked politician called Art Adwell because she possessed evidence that he’d employed her to assassinate another Member of Parliament. Adwell had almost succeeded in killing both of us but it was actually an accidental shot from Ethan, the leader of the trolls, that had ended Rose’s life.

  The only bright side in any of this was that I’d managed to get hold of the evidence needed to put Adwell away. I’d passed it on to a tabloid newspaper and now he was behind bars and awaiting trial. It couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. Tragically, Rose hadn’t lived long enough to witness his fall from grace.

  Pumpkin lifted his head and blinked at me innocently. The damned creature deserved to win an Oscar for his efforts.

  ‘If things are truly that bad, you could always re-home him.’

  Pumpkin chose that moment to let out a tiny, plaintive whine. My eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  The animal faery, who really should have known better, reached into her pocket and pulled out a tasty-looking treat. ‘Aw, darling,’ she murmured, bending down to scratch his chin and give him the bone-shaped chew.

  How was it that she could separate my half-baked lies from the truth in an instant but could let one little dog manipulate her so? Not for the first time, I acknowledged that I could learn a lot from my new companion. If only he’d let me.

  ‘I can’t re-home him. His last owner was a client. And her wish was,’ I waved my hands in the air in vague explanation, ‘this.’

  ‘Ah.’ The animal faery squinted upwards and gave me an arch look. ‘Just give him time. He’ll settle down.’

  ‘That’s your advice? Time? What about some helpful animal magic?’

  ‘Pets aren’t usually our remit,’ she told me gently. ‘They have owners to take care of their needs.’

  ‘They’re still animals,’ I mumbled.

  ‘I’m supposed to be up north dealing with the latest bovine flu epidemic before it gets out of hand, starts to jump species and causes global chaos and a pandemic of obscene proportions.’

  My mouth flattened. Well, okay then. I supposed that was slightly more important. Only slightly, though.

  The animal faery grinned and patted my arm. ‘Don’t worry,’ she assured me. ‘You’ve got this. Pumpkin is a sweetheart.’

  The sweetheart in question gave her another lick then sat back heavily on his chubby haunches. We both watched the faery walk out, leaving us to our unsure fate without a backward glance. Once she’d gone, I put my hands on my hips and gave him a glare. ‘Nice work,’ I said sarcastically.

  Pumpkin’s lips pulled into the merest suggestion of a snarl. I didn’t look away. It was important that he realised who was the real boss in this relationship.

  ‘Don’t start blaming me,’ I told him. ‘She could have helped us. Instead you acted like everything was absolutely fine.’

  The little dog sniffed and turn away. I knelt down, reaching out to scratch his ears. Pumpkin jerked backwards like he’d been burned.

  Holding my hands up in temporary surrender, I gazed at him. ‘I’m doing my best for you,’ I whispered. ‘But I’m also trying to do my best as a faery godmother. I can’t drop everything and run around after you 24/7. Life doesn’t work like that. I have other commitments, you know.’

  Pumpkin looked distinctly unimpressed at my attempt to appeal to his better side. I gave up and clipped on his lead before straightening up and heading for the door. ‘Come on then,’ I said. ‘Let’s go home.’

  He tossed his head, as if to suggest that had been his plan all along and it was about time I fell into line and did what he wanted. The moment we made it outside, he took off, barrelling forward and almost yanking me off my feet.

  Pumpkin might look like a small, overweight lap dog but I swear he has the strength of a Rottweiler. I dug in my heels, calling out to him in my best attempt at Cesar Millan-style dog whispering. It did no good: Pumpkin was a dog on a mission and it appeared that I was only along for the ride.

  We whizzed along the street. Pumpkin whizzed; I stumbled and barely managed to keep my footing while resolutely ignoring the disapproving looks of the few other pedestrians out this early on a Saturday. I force
d a smile as a nearby bloke with his own perfectly behaved pooch commented, ‘Who’s taking who out for a walk then?’

  In the two weeks since I’d supposedly taken possession of Pumpkin, I’d lost count of how many times I’d heard those words. I was supposed to be a faery godmother; I was supposed to be magical and powerful and in charge of my own fate. In truth, I couldn’t even get a pint-sized dog to come to heel.

  Instead of turning right at the first crossroads, Pumpkin made a beeline in the opposite direction. I tugged on the lead. ‘Wrong way!’ I half-screeched.

  Pumpkin ignored me in favour of vaulting forward and wrapping himself round a lamppost. Whether this was a deliberate action to get us both tangled up or simply because it smelled good, I couldn’t have said.

  ‘Fuck a puck.’ I gritted my teeth and started to unwind the lead from the innocent lamppost. ‘Why can’t you walk in a straight line?’

  ‘Because,’ drawled a deep voice from behind me, ‘then I wouldn’t be able to chew gum at the same time.’

  I whipped round, my eyes meeting Jasper’s emerald-green gaze. Irritatingly, my cheeks flooded with colour like schoolgirl haphazardly bumping into a crush. That wasn’t the case at all. No sirree.

  I coughed and tried to compose myself. ‘I was under the impression,’ I said, ‘that multi-tasking was your forte.’

  He flashed me an amused grin. ‘I’m reliably informed that women are better at that than men.’

  ‘Only because we’re forced into it,’ I muttered. I looked him up and down. He was dressed more casually than I’d ever seen him in a pair of dark jeans that moulded to this thighs in ways I wanted to think about too much, and a dark grey V-necked T-shirt that displayed just enough tanned skin to make my mouth dry. Friends, I reminded myself. We were friends.

  ‘Friends,’ I said aloud without meaning to. Clearly my eloquence was only matched by my ability to appear unflustered.

  A brief shadow crossed Jasper’s face but it was so fleeting that I might have imagined it. ‘Is that a verbal reminder for me or for you?’

  ‘For Pumpkin,’ I quickly replied. ‘Just so he knows not to attack you.’ We both looked down. Pumpkin was more intent on cocking his leg and spraying my foot than in anything Jasper was doing. I jerked away my foot and managed a smile. ‘He can be vicious.’

  Jasper scratched his chin. ‘If you say so.’

  We both remained where we were for a moment, staring at each other and not saying anything.

  ‘I’m glad I bumped into you,’ Jasper said finally. ‘I wanted to speak to you at the office yesterday but I was tied up in meetings all day.’

  ‘Ah’ I nodded knowingly. If there was one thing the Office of Faery Godmothers loved it was a good – or bad – meeting. ‘And how is the audit going?’

  ‘Only a few more days to go. The draft report is near completion and then I’ll leave you all in peace while I collate the final results and write up the last of my recommendations.’

  I pretended that was good news and smiled. ‘Great! Everyone will be pleased.’

  Jasper didn’t take his eyes off mine. ‘Will you be pleased, Saffron?’

  I swallowed. ‘It’s stressful having the Devil’s Advocate around watching your every move and looming over every decision.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to avoid too much looming.’

  It was true. In contrast to the first week of his audit when we’d all been on edge, the atmosphere in the office was now far more relaxed. Jasper made a point of speaking to everyone in the mornings, passing pleasantries and the time of day and going out of his way to make my colleagues feel good. I liked to pretend that he’d softened up as a result of my advice to him but the truth was that deep down he was actually an amiable guy once you got to know him. ‘You have,’ I conceded. ‘I was being unfair.’

  He tilted his head. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said slowly. ‘Did … did … did the amazing Saffron Sawyer actually just admit she was wrong?’

  ‘It’s been known to happen.’ I grinned.

  Jasper grinned back. The boyish amusement in his eyes was both out of character and wonderful to see. ‘I’m glad.’

  ‘Glad that I’m wrong?’

  ‘Glad that I’ve not been overly intimidating lately.’ His expression grew more intense. ‘I take my job seriously, Saffron, and I love what I do. It’s not because I enjoy stomping around, scaring people and ordering everyone about. It’s because I want all faeries to be the best they can be. Truly. It means a huge amount to me that we’re successful. We make positive changes to this world. We’re important.’

  I looked into his eyes. ‘That,’ I said softly, ‘is music to my ears.’ I took in a deep breath. Whoever said that opposites attract was lying through their teeth; in many ways, Jasper and I were like two peas in a pod. ‘Anyway, why did you want to speak to me?’

  He licked his lips. Was he nervous? ‘I thought,’ he said, ‘it would be good if we touched base. Now that a few weeks have passed and things have settled down, we should take stock. You’re likely to be the point of contact for the trolls, so we should discuss what their next steps might be and how we react to them for the best possible outcome.’

  ‘Yup.’ Okay then. That made sense. Although the immediate threat Ethan and his unmerry band of trolls posed had been extinguished after Rose’s death, we weren’t safe yet. We might have come to a temporary truce, but that didn’t change the fact that the trolls still held the Office of Faery Godmothers responsible for almost destroying their entire race because of an old wish gone wrong. It might have happened way before my time but memories were long, especially where near extinction was concerned.

  It didn’t help that the faery godmothers had also covered up their atrocious deeds. The Director had finally admitted the truth after the trolls’ last attack and offered them a formal apology. As a result, Ethan had told me that they would cease their campaign of vengeance for the time being. But the truce wasn’t permanent; we still had a lot of work to do to smooth over the ruffled feathers on both sides and avoid a devastating war. There remained a very good chance that the trolls would change their minds and return to their vendetta.

  ‘Should we schedule a meeting for Monday?’ I asked. ‘I have some new clients to visit but I can probably push them back till later in the day.’

  Jasper’s mouth twisted. ‘I’ll be busy with my final inspections. As the trolls are technically unrelated to the audit and we’re both so tight for time during the day, why don’t we meet for dinner instead? Tonight. Seven o’clock. I’ll pick you up.’

  ‘Uh…’

  ‘Unless you have other arrangements, of course. It’s Saturday night. Maybe you have a date.’ His eyes grew darker.

  ‘No,’ I squeaked. ‘No date. I can do dinner.’

  ‘Fantastic.’ Jasper inclined his head. ‘I’ll see you then.’ He bent over, patted Pumpkin and walked off.

  I glanced at the terrier, who had somehow miraculously untangled himself from the lamppost and was sitting quietly by my feet. ‘Did you know he was here?’ I asked. ‘Is that why you led us this way?’ Pumpkin ignored me and I sighed. ‘Is talking to your dog the first sign of madness?’

  An empty crisp packet caught by the wind tumbled past us. Pumpkin lunged for it, barking like it was some kind of unnamed monster. I pulled him away and rolled my eyes. ‘Come on. This time we’re definitely going home. It might be the weekend, and I might be having dinner with the Devil’s Advocate later, but I’ve still got work to do in the meantime. No rest for the wicked.’

  I glanced again at Jasper’s broad back. He was already halfway down the street. His head turned and he looked directly at me. I raised my hand in acknowledgement and he doffed an imaginary cap before turning and continuing on his way. Oh my.

  ***

  Surprisingly, Pumpkin curled up in the corner for a nap rather than attempting to gnaw on my furniture or whine from the kitchen for food, allowing me to work in peace for a few hours.

  I sat on my
squashy sofa, my mug of tea growing cold as I powered my way through several reports and caught up on my paperwork. The clients I’d had over the last fortnight had been remarkably easy to take care of. Once they’d got past their initial shock at the existence of faery godmothers – and that they were lucky enough to be assigned to one – they’d been more than happy to open up their lives and let me help them.

  Their wishes had been surprisingly modest. Cynics might imagine that, given half a chance, humans would demand the world on a plate but my experiences so far had proven otherwise. Most people sought happiness more than anything else, and often not for themselves but for those they loved.

  I’d had a woman whose sister was a cancer survivor and who wished for her to get the opportunity to travel the world. I arranged for her to win an open-ended airline ticket, courtesy of a well-meaning travel agency. Then there was the young lad who’d desperately wanted his dad to find love again. Given the single father in question was already eyeing up his next-door neighbour, all it had taken was a few simple magical nudges in the right direction.

  My favourite, however, was the middle-aged man I’d dealt with in the middle of the week. He’d recently come to the conclusion that he’d spent too much of life wrapped up in self-involved narcissism and that the best way forward was for him to dedicate his life to making others happy. Frankly, he’d have made an excellent faery godmother. As that was out of the question, I helped him get a job working for the National Lottery. It was now his role to answer the phone to those lucky people who held winning tickets. From now on, he would check their numbers and happily inform them how much money they’d won. Making other people feel good makes you feel good. It’s a fact of life.

  Unfortunately, it’s also a fact of life that completing paperwork of any kind can quickly become soul-sucking and depressing. Despite my joy at my recent successes, writing up my reports quickly numbed my brain. That’s the reason why, when my doorbell rang, I was groggy and disorientated and stupidly assumed it was Jasper arriving early to pick me up for our dinner. And I’d not even had time to shower and change.