When Tinker Met Bell
A Nocturne Falls Universe Book
Alethea Kontis
When Tinker Met Bell
A Nocturne Falls Universe Story
Copyright © 2017 by Alethea Kontis
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction and was made possible by a special agreement with Sugar Skull Books, but hasn’t been reviewed or edited by Kristen Painter. All characters, events, scenes, plots and associated elements appearing in the original Nocturne Falls series remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Kristen Painter, Sugar Skull Books and their affiliates or licensors.
Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author or Sugar Skull Books.
Published in the United States of America.
Cover design by Keri Knutson
Contents
A Note from Kristen Painter
1. 1
2. 2
3. 3
4. 4
5. 5
6. 6
7. 7
8. 8
9. 9
10. 10
11. 11
12. 12
13. Want to Know More About Sam and Natalie?
Acknowledgments
14. Want your very own HALLOWED BEAN Merchandise?
About the Author
Also by Alethea Kontis
A Note from Kristen Painter
Dear Reader,
Nocturne Falls has become a magical place for so many people, myself included. Over and over I’ve heard from you that it’s a town you’d love to visit and even live in! I can tell you that writing the books is just as much fun for me.
With your enthusiasm for the series in mind – and your many requests for more books – the Nocturne Falls Universe was born. It’s a project near and dear to my heart, and one I am very excited about.
I hope these new, guest-authored books will entertain and delight you. And best of all, I hope they allow you to discover some great new authors! (And if you like this book, be sure to check out the rest of the Nocturne Falls Universe offerings.)
For more information about the Nocturne Falls Universe, visit http://kristenpainter.com/sugar-skull-books/
In the meantime, happy reading!
~Kristen Painter
For Margo
On stage and off — NTs forever
1
It was a beautiful day in Nocturne Falls.
According to every weather app on every smart phone in the world, the forecast for all of Georgia was blistering sun with a hundred percent chance of storms. Translation: Hot and humid with a side of sticky gross—not even remotely winterlike.
But Bellamy Merriweather Larousse woke up this morning and chose to have a beautiful day, and so it was.
“What can I get you, Mr. Hardwin?” she chirped brightly.
“One iced Draculatté, please, Bellamy. To go.” Nick Hardwin pulled a few napkins from the dispenser beside the flyers for the Frozen in Fear Festival. “This heat is intense,” he said, patting the damp hair at the nape of his neck. He raised a scarred eyebrow at the flyers. “Fear might show up, but I don’t think Frozen got the memo about this month’s shindig.”
Bellamy’s heart went out to the man, one of The Hallowed Bean’s regulars. While most customers this time of day were stopping in to the coffee shop on their way home from the office, Bellamy knew Mr. Hardwin would be working deep into the night, either at Insomnia or the gargoyle fountain.
“How about I blend this for you?” Bellamy asked. “It’ll taste like a coffee snow cone.”
Mr. Hardwin’s smile mirrored Bellamy’s own. “That sounds amazing. Make it an extra-large. Two extra larges. I’ll drop one by the jewelry shop. Willa will love it.”
“Comin’ right up!” Bellamy punched the sale into the register. It was sweet of him to be so considerate of his lady-love. In the back of her mind, Bellamy wished that someday someone would love her as much as Nick Hardwin loved Willa Iscove. But that was someday. Right now she was surrounded by some of the best friends in the world and, for Bellamy, that kind of love was enough.
Bellamy did a twirl as she set about concocting Mr. Hardwin’s order. There was just something magical about the cheerful whirring of the blender on a hot day and Bellamy chose to honor that. She placed two drops of raspberry sauce inside each of the clear plastic cups and let them artfully slide down like drops of blood. Then she poured in the coffee blend, topping it off with a bit of whipped cream and dark chocolate drizzle. With a flick of her wrist, she secured the covers of both cups and slid them over to Mr. Hardwin with two giant wrapped straws.
“May you think only cold thoughts,” she whispered to him conspiratorially.
“I’m sure I will if you say so,” he said. “Thank you, Bellamy. You’re one of the good fae.”
Mr. Hardwin knew more than a few fae, both good and bad, so Bellamy took his compliment to heart. Especially since her particular brand of faeness wasn’t the usual sort one generally found in Nocturne Falls. Bellamy had been born with wings, a throwback to the windkin on her mother’s side, a fae bloodline that originated in another world entirely separate from this one.
They were beautiful wings, large enough to lift Bellamy in the air and carry her for miles, but she was as much at the mercy of the currents as any other bird or butterfly. She had no power over air, or stone, or fire, or metal. She could barely walk and chew gum at the same time. But she had fairy dust, shed from her wings. With it, she could manifest certain magic for short periods of time.
And she could work a cappuccino machine like nobody’s business.
Mr. Hardwin took the drinks and stuffed a few dollars into the jack-o-lantern tip jar. An electronic werewolf howled as he walked out the front door. Sometimes that chime got so annoying that Bellamy disabled it. But not today. Because today was a beautiful day.
“Ahem.”
Bellamy leaned back to see the person hidden by the giant espresso machine. She spotted the wild emerald green hair before the rest of him came into view. Today was getting better and better!
“Hey, Tinker. What’s up?”
A visit from Tinker outside school always cheered Bellamy up. He was her oldest and best guy-friend—actual “bestest” best friend status was reserved for Kai Xanthopoulos, daughter of the managers over at Mummy’s Diner.
Tinker had a gangly build and bumpy, sallow green skin, which looked extra sickly today. Probably because of the heat—it really did have no business being this hot so close to winter break. Some of Tinker’s bumps came from his warty goblin heritage, but some were just acne. A temporary problem, but Tinker was so hard on himself about the way he looked.
Bellamy was always reminding Tinker that outward appearance was an ever-changing thing. She had known him long before those awkward teenage years, when they were mischievous children of the same height playing pranks on their teachers. But now he towered over her just like he towered over everyone. The more he grew, the more he slouched. Bellamy wished he had the confidence to stand tall. But whatever part of his appearance aged back to “normal” over time, there would be no changing his height.
Tinker adjusted his glasses as his green eyes looked up at the decorated menu board. “I’ll have what he had,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder after Mr. Hardwin. “But without the hit of fairy dust.”
Happily, Tinker was not so tall that Bellamy couldn’t still grab him by the
collar and yank his face down to hers. “Ranulf Tinkerton, what is wrong with you? Are you tryin’ to get me fired?”
“I know that flick of the wrist all too well, Miss Larousse,” he countered in a dramatic whisper. “You can’t fool me.”
He was right, of course. Bellamy always kept a small supply of fairy dust in the bracelet on her left wrist. “So I added some extra-frostiness to his beverage. So what? The poor man is dyin’ in this heat. No harm done.”
“The poor man?” Green eyebrows arched above Tinker’s glasses. “You make him sound like some withered old thing. Nick Hardwin could bench press a school bus.”
Bellamy released Tinker’s shirt. She smoothed it back down as she narrowed her eyes at him, carefully touching only the fabric and not his skin. “You’re just jealous.”
Tinker stood still as a gargoyle himself while she straightened his collar. “Darn tootin’. I can sprain a wrist picking up a pipette. As you well know.”
Bellamy almost laughed at that, but she stopped herself just in time. On the one wing, she had always loved Tinker’s self-deprecating humor. On the other, she wished he at least thought as highly of himself as she did. It was true: Tinker had sprained his wrist in Chemistry class last year. He’d lifted that pipette right before slipping in a puddle of water some of the were-jocks had been splashing at each other and neglected to clean up.
“I blame that on the evils of dihydrogen monoxide,” Bellamy said with a smile, referring to one of Tinker’s particular nerdy science jokes. People often assumed that Bellamy’s constantly cheerful demeanor and thick southern accent meant that she was stupid. Tinker had never treated her that way, and she respected him for that.
And the dihydrogen monoxide—water—had been evil…as had the thoughtlessness of others. That thoughtlessness seemed to occur around Tinker more than most. Especially at school. Sometimes, it was because he was just so dang smart. Sometimes, it was just because he was a goblin.
Tinker put a hand over his heart dramatically. “Dihydrogen monoxide! My nemesis! Say, now…I don’t suppose you could sprinkle a little extra something on my drink that would turn me into a super strong chick magnet?”
Bellamy made a face at him. “All you need, mister, is little bit of self-confidence and some decent luck. Like I keep tellin’ you.” She lifted her left hand in the air and mimed poking him in the nose for good measure, without actually touching him.
Some of the dust must have escaped her bracelet, because Tinker threw his head back and violently sneezed into the handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket. The sheer volume of the blast almost shook the windows. He held up a hand to the customers sitting at tables, including the one where Hubble, Sam, and Natalie stared at Tinker with more interest than usual. “Allergies,” he explained to the cafe.
“Bless you,” Bellamy said when Tinker turned back to the counter. She followed up with a whispered, “Sorry. Are you all right?”
Tinker nodded. He wiped his watering eyes and blew his nose again.
Bellamy felt terrible. She knew better than to get any of her fairy dust on Tinker. Goblins were allergic to fairies. Miraculously, that hadn’t stopped Tinker and Bell from being friends all this time, a fact that brought her great joy. But she should have known better. She could talk to Tinker all day long, but she could never, ever touch him.
“I’ll make you that drink. On the house. But your fellow adventurers have to pay,” she added, glancing over to the table by the window.
“Noted,” Tinker said with a sniffle.
Bellamy plucked a clear plastic cup off the top of the stack. She wrote “Tinker” on the side and drew a smiley-faced butterfly before scooping out the ice for his drink. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted him stuffing the tip jar with cash he could ill afford. She scowled, but she knew arguing with him would be futile. She finished making his frozen Draculatté quickly and carefully, filling it with only good wishes and none of her tainted faeness.
Tinker might have been an awkward misfit from a race of misfits, but he had a good head, and a great heart. He deserved so much happiness…far more happiness than he received at school, at any rate. Tinker was one of the good ones. Funny how few of the other students at Harmswood managed to see that. If she could have used her fairy dust to change things, she would have.
Every morning, Bellamy tidied up the excess dust from her wings, leaving trails of sparkling rainbow magic all over the bathroom. She always made sure to save a little bit for her friends…and her favorite customers.
Bellamy was the highest-tipped barista in the history of The Hallowed Bean, thanks to the extra little pick-me-ups folks had come to expect from their orders. A dash of Bellamy’s dust might manifest as a selfless act or a kind word in someone’s day. Fairy dust could coax a few more miles out of a car low on gas, or burn a few more calories during a morning workout. The effect of the dust was always temporary, and it never caused harm to anyone…who wasn’t a goblin. The smiles and friendships the dust evoked lasted far longer than the magic itself.
But the last thing Bellamy wanted to do was kill one of her best friends in the whole wide world. Or make him sick. Or whatever other horrible thing might happen if a goblin like Tinker ingested a double-shot of fairy dust. Neither of them wanted to find out.
“Hey, Bell,” he said as she slid over the large cup of bleeding-raspberry-and-chocolate amazingness. “You going to the Midwinter Masquerade?”
“Of course!” she answered happily. She was more excited about the Midwinter Masquerade than she was about the Frozen in Fear Festival, winter break, and the possibility of cooler weather combined. “Kai and I are on the decoratin’ committee. It’s gonna be amazeballs. Just wait until you see everything. You will see, won’t you? I mean, you’re goin’, right?”
“Um…” Tinker suddenly looked ill. Had she accidentally dosed him again? He fiddled with his straw wrapper. “Well…yeah.”
Bellamy kept the pleasant smile plastered to her face, but based on his reaction, she worried that she’d said something wrong. Tinker rarely attended school events. Had she just forced him to go to the masquerade against his will? He had been the one to bring it up… “Wonderful!” she said. “It will be so much fun.”
“Yeah,” Tinker said again. He started to back away from the counter, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. Maybe he was just really thirsty?
“Save me a dance?” she asked after him.
He gave a half-laugh. “Absolutely.” And then he turned and hurried back to his table.
Bellamy turned away too, so that no one in the coffee shop could see her frown. Maybe Tinker already had plans to go with someone else? Natalie had been staring at him rather intently… Sufferin’ coffee stains! If he did already have a date, then Bellamy never should have forced him to promise her a dance like that. She’d be livid if her date took off to dance with someone else in the middle of the evening. Okay…well, truthfully she wouldn’t…but most girls would. Especially Natalie.
Not that Bellamy would even have a date in the first place. She was an odd fae who hung with the locals. She may have been a cheerleader, but she wasn’t the kind of girl that the rich boarding school boys at Harmswood wanted to date. That was another reason Tinker was so easy for Bellamy to be around. He’d gotten into Harmswood on a scholarship—the first goblin student in Harmswood history. He appreciated the little things.
Maybe he’d been put off by her suggestion to dance? Bellamy couldn’t touch Tinker outright, but a pair of gloves could solve that problem easily enough…
She balled her fists. She wished she could dose herself with dust, if only to prevent her from putting her foot in her big fat mouth again. Oh, Bellamy, you ever-lovin’ truffle. Let it go. It’s Tinker. Tinker would never be mad at you!
But there was a first time for everything…
Bellamy put a smile back on her face and turned back to the cafe. Tinker was engrossed in some serious conversation with his friends. It was too late now
for her to take back whatever silly thing she had said that caused him to cut their conversation short and walk away. She made a mental note to ask him about this tomorrow in Physics. And possibly apologize. A lot. Whatever mess she’d stepped in, deep down she knew Tinker would forgive her. Because she loved that jolly green giant to the moon, and he loved her right back.
And because today was a beautiful day.
2
This day was seriously starting to suck.
Tinker plopped down in the cafe chair and banged his knee on the metal bar under the tiny table. His wince of pain was masked by Hubble’s aggravated growl as his DM screen flopped onto the tabletop.
“Hey now!” Hubble snatched up the screen. He re-bent the creases of the modified folder so that it would continue to shield his pile of ragged-edged notebook papers from the rest of the table. “Watch it, Tinkerton. There is sensitive material back here.”
“Deciphering launch codes again? I was only gone five minutes.”
“Nah,” said Natalie. “Sam’s dwarf tripped on a lever that opened a secret door in the passageway, and now Dungeon Master Hubble is rolling to answer like fifty questions that determine just how screwed we are.”
Sam leaned back in his chair and yawned at the ceiling. “Sorry, guys. What can I say? I’m a clumsy dwarf. I didn’t realize this was going to take foreeeeeeveeeeeer.”
There was a clatter of dice and Hubble giggled like a comic book villain from behind the screen. “I hope you like orcs…”
“I skewer them with my massive longsword!” cried Natalie.