Read The Silver Thread Online

Authors: Emigh Cannaday

Tags: #dark fantasy, dark urban fantasy, paranormal romance, fae, elves

The Silver Thread (46 page)

BOOK: The Silver Thread
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Chapter 46
the rooster in the henhouse

Talvi followed Annika into the very cozy, very crowded salon the next morning, which happened to be a Sunday. An emergency bulletin must have gone out among the hens, because every seat in the coop was taken. Even the hooded hair dryers were occupied, although they weren’t running. Talvi ran his hand through his hair and grinned like a Cheshire cat as he was paraded past the flock.

“Is this the mysterious Mr. Lewd and Lascivious?” Beatrice asked, putting her hands on her ample hips.

“Yes, Beatrice, this is my new son-in-law,” Faline replied while she gave Annika a hug.

“How delightful to meet you, Beatrice. I do like the alias Mr. Lewd and Lascivious, but you can call me Talvi for short,” he said, letting his eyes twinkle brightly as he reached for her hand.

“There’s nothing short about you, is there?” Beatrice replied, looking him up and down as she extended her right hand toward him.

“No, there really isn’t,” he said, kissing the back of her hand. “My loving wife can attest to that.”

Rather than attest to anything, Annika swatted his rear for being so cheeky. Beatrice just laughed and motioned for the two of them to take a seat in the swivel chairs.

“I like him already,” she said, and mussed Talvi’s hair. She took a second look at his ears before walking behind the counter to the mini-fridge, but didn’t say anything about them. Other than the strange shape of his ears, he looked like any other six and a half foot tall Portland native, in his slim-fit jeans, t-shirt, and Chuck Taylors.

Faline introduced a white-haired woman named Agnes and the other older ladies seated around the small salon and then Beatrice returned holding two champagne flutes with a raspberry resting in the bottom of the glass, and handed them to the new arrivals.

“These don’t look like mimosas,” Annika observed, sniffing her drink.

“No, we’re having champagne screws made with Finnish vodka in honor of Talvi finally getting to meet the ladies,” her mother explained, and then turned to Talvi. “Your first name is Finnish, isn’t it?”

“I honestly prefer Talvi, but yes, the origin is Finnish,” he said, and took a sip of his drink, nodding in approval to Faline, and then he turned to Beatrice, flashing a debonair smile. “I believe you’ve discovered the path to my heart, Beatrice. I certainly wasn’t expecting to receive a screw in my honor when we arrived, but there’s really no better way to begin a day, now is there?”

Beatrice shot Annika and Faline a surprised look as she blushed, but Annika just shrugged and laughed.

“Hey, you’re the ones who came up with the new drink idea. I’ve never had a problem with mimosas,” she said to Beatrice and her mother after taking a sip. “Is there really vodka in here? Are you trying to get hammered before you fix my hair?”

“When Talvi called two days ago and told me that you colored your hair dark brown from a box, I wasn’t sure how else I would cope,” Faline joked. “But I put extra orange juice in mine just to be on the safe side. I sure don’t want to make it any worse.”

“It’s not that bad, Mom.”

“It’s not the shade that’s bad, hon, but this isn’t going to be as simple as your regular touch ups, either,” she explained. “Boxed color is a pain to deal with, and I’ll have to lift all of the brown out before I can add your red back in. That’s why I told you two to dress comfy.” She paused to glance skeptically at Annika’s colorful and poufy silk and organza skirt, accented with strings of shimmering sequins. “I hope you realize that you’re going to be sitting in that skirt for at least a few hours. This is no quick fix, unless you don’t mind cutting your hair as short as Patti’s.” Avoiding Annika’s glass, Faline secured a black cape around her and tied it behind her neck.

“I definitely don’t want that,” Annika sighed, looking at her skirt like she wished she had worn something else with her sleeveless top. “Short hair is cute on her, but I don’t think I could pull it off.”

“Please don’t ever cut it that short,” said Talvi. “I love how long it is now.”

“You’ve been red ever since I’ve known you, Annika. It’s so strange to see you as a brunette,” said Beatrice, leaning against her work area beside Talvi’s swivel chair.

“So you see the dilemma I’ve been dealing with here,” he replied, making his case to the group of women as he motioned to his wife. “I took Annika to Paris, went away for business, and when I returned, there was a brunette bird in the hotel room, insisting that she was my wife. I can barely even kiss this woman sitting here, because every time I look at her, I keep thinking, ‘this is
not
my wife’. I simply want her to appear as untouched as she was when I left her. Is that not too much to ask?” A few of the women sighed in admiration, agreeing with him wholeheartedly.

“Whenever I get my hair done, Harold doesn’t even notice,” piped up a crabby faced lady.

“I have a feeling Harold is a bit daft, not to notice something as significant as his own wife’s hair,” Talvi replied sympathetically and took another drink from his champagne flute. His comment was met with an enthusiastic nod of agreement from the crabby woman, and more clucking from the hens.

“Well, I’ll get her back to normal soon enough,” Faline assured him, and began combing through her daughter’s long hair and sectioning it off.

“So Talvi, tell us a little more about yourself,” asked Agnes. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m actually taking a break from mergers and acquisitions. My office in London was making some demands that would have prevented me from being a very good husband, so we parted ways.” A series of clucks and coos sounded from more than half of the women.

“What a good man, putting his family first,” said one of them.

“Speaking of families, when are you two starting one?” another asked. “I’ll bet you’ll have beautiful babies.”

“You hens are quite skilled at the open ended questions, aren’t you?” he remarked.

“You have no idea,” said Faline, glancing at him and then at her daughter. “So, how long until I get some grandchildren?”

Annika was at a loss for what to say, and looked to Talvi for help. She remembered what Ambrose had told her about human babies growing faster than elven ones, and how it would upset her family to bring home a baby that seemed not to age at all.

“We’re planning on traveling extensively, now that neither of us is tethered to a job,” Talvi replied, reaching over to take Annika’s hand in his. “We have all the time in the world to raise a family, but every year, Venice sinks further into the Adriatic Sea. Have you ever been there, love?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling gratefully at him.

“Then we’ll have to be certain to spend some time there on our way to Rome. There are so many places I want to take you, and so many more where I want to take you again and again.” His wistful expression assured her that all he wanted was to take her again, and again…just not in the traveling sense.

“Pardon me for asking, but if you quit your job and plan to travel, what are you kids going to do to make ends meet?” asked another.

“I’ve actually been saving nearly all my income ever since I began the position,” Talvi explained. “I never had a steady sweetheart to spend it on until I met Annika, so there’s quite a bit set aside. We’re going to be fine.”

“I can’t believe you’ve never had a girlfriend,” Beatrice accused in a lighthearted tone. “Not someone as good looking and smart as you. Annika said you speak nineteen languages. Did I hear that right?”

“Oh yes,” he chirped, happy to brag about himself. “I traveled a lot growing up and also for work. After about six months of total immersion, it’s not that difficult to pick up a language. Although I must admit, it took me close to a year to fully grasp Japanese, and English slang has just gotten ridiculously out of hand these days.”

“You can say that again!”

“English slang has just gotten ridiculously out of hand these days,” he repeated, winking at one of the hens. “Did you know, that if something is happening, it is now referred to as blowing up? Annika said that yesterday when we arrived home, and I thought the bloody house had caught fire!”

“Kids these days,” muttered one of the group.

“Do you know German?” Beatrice asked him. “Agnes speaks it.” She motioned to the white-haired lady.


Wie geht’s,
Agnes?
Freut mich, sie kennenzulernen.
Ihr
Haar ist so schön wie der erste Schnee des Winters
,” he replied, and Agnes beamed as though a lantern had been lit inside her eyes.


Danke
, Talvi.
Du bist ein sehr charmanter junger Mann
,” she replied, and her cheeks grew rosy. “
Ich
wünschte, mehr Männer hatten
Ihre
Manieren
.” They chatted for another moment and then Agnes gave a contented sigh.

“You did alright with this one, Annika,” she said with a delighted smile of approval. Annika gave her husband an equally delighted smile as her mother began applying a creamy concoction to her brown tresses.

“What do you like to do for fun, besides making the newspaper more entertaining to read?” Beatrice asked Talvi.

“He’s quite a handyman,” Faline told her. “He fixed the roof and built a new staircase to the basement of their house.”

“I wouldn’t say I did that for fun, but because it needed to be done,” he clarified. “I couldn’t risk my poor little wife and her flat mates falling down those old rotted stairs. I’m rather fond of them, even James, what with that foul language of his. I’ve met sailors who swear less than he does.”

“That young man needs his mouth washed out with soap,” said the crabby woman.

“I keep wondering when our fairy friend is going to do something about that mouth of his,” Talvi chuckled, then paused to take another generous sip of his drink. “It’s only a matter of time before it gets washed out with something.”

Annika clamped her jaw shut to keep from spitting out her drink and laughing. Her husband was better entertainment than cable.

“So Talvi, I have to ask…are you an archer, since you obviously must be an elf?” Beatrice inquired in a sarcastic tone. “I noticed your pointy ears.”

Annika looked at him, curious what his response would be.

“Why yes, I am an archer,” he confessed, smiling confidently at her before glancing sideways at his wife with a wild and wicked spark in his eye. “Annika can tell you, I’m quite skilled with my bow. I never miss my target. I love to practice as often as I can, and if uninterrupted, I’ll typically shoot until I’ve no more arrows left in my quiver. Trust me, it holds a lot of them.”

“You should take him to Washington Park,” she said to Annika before looking back at Talvi. “There’s an archery range there that you can use for free, and it’s open from dawn till dusk.”

“Really?” Talvi replied, his interest piqued. “And where is this? Is it very far away?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” said Beatrice with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s probably a fifteen minute drive from here.”

“Annika Jane, how could you neglect to tell me such a thing when you know how much I love to shoot my bow?” he scolded, wagging his finger at her just like his father did not too long ago. “There you go again, being a rude hostess with such bad manners.
Tsk, tsk, tsk
…for shame, Annika!”

“I didn’t know there was an archery range there,” she said defensively. “But I promise we can go anytime you want to. We could even go after we’re done here, if you want.”

“No, I have other plans after we’re finished here,” he said, and tipped the bottom of his glass up so that he could eat the raspberry that had been resting at the bottom. “But perhaps we’ll go to the range tomorrow.”

“What kind of plans do you have?”

“The kind I am apt to make, my little dove,” he said with a smile, and then revealed no more.

Three and a half hours later, they returned to what appeared to be an empty house.

“Where is everyone?” Annika asked, dropping her purse into an empty chair at the kitchen table.

“I’ve arranged for us to have the house to ourselves while I give you your birthday present,” he said, letting a mischievous spark enter his eyes as he walked to the counter near the fridge. He turned around, leaned back on his elbows, and beckoned with one hand in a come-hither motion.

BOOK: The Silver Thread
5.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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