Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The salesgirl at the pharmacy had absolutely no reason to hate a complete stranger.
And yet she did.
Passionately and with great enthusiasm.
The only thing missing was smoke pouring out of her ears, though she was clearly doing her best to refrain from furious snorting.
No, the customer herself hadn’t done anything wrong. She hadn’t been rude or particularly arrogant. It was just that, in Amélie’s opinion, she was… completely unremarkable.
And yet standing beside her—far too close, definitely within the boundaries of personal space—was the most magnificent young man Amélie had ever seen, even in her dreams.
He was tall, with shoulders this broad! And muscles so enormous that any bodybuilder who saw them would simply sit down on the floor and weep bitterly, suddenly realizing his own insignificance—like a Yorkshire terrier next to an enormous wolfhound.
Long dark-chestnut hair, carelessly tied back in a ponytail. Deep brown eyes framed by long lashes.
In short, Amélie sighed softly as she remembered her childhood fantasies about Tarzan.
What did make her slightly suspicious, however, was the enormous quantity of medication the stranger was buying. Most of it required a doctor’s prescription.
And she had the prescriptions.
A whole stack of them.
After comparing the couple for some time, Amélie came to a firm conclusion: this girl was no match for that gorgeous man.
They simply did not belong together!
The salesgirl sincerely hoped that the mountain of medication was intended for the woman herself and that she would soon expire in agony and convulsions, like Madame Bovary in Flaubert’s famous novel.
Yes, when handsome men were involved, Amélie was merciless.
Unfortunately, the man didn’t even look at her.
To her satisfaction, though, he wasn’t paying much attention to his companion either. He merely let his bored gaze wander over the counter.
Amélie took another look at the owner of such a luxurious specimen of the male sex.
No. That wasn’t quite right.
A demigod.
She tried to understand what exactly this resident of Olympus could possibly have found attractive about such a plain little thing.
The woman was of average height, even in platform sandals. Short hair. A small face—admittedly rather pretty. But overall, she seemed washed out and insignificant.
Like a pale little moth.
Her skin was white as milk—and in the middle of summer! Her nearly colorless eyebrows and eyelashes had been lightly touched up with brown pencil and mascara. She had full, slightly pouty lips.
All in all, the perfect package for a dedicated pervert.
Tiny shorts and a semi-transparent shirt tied in a knot beneath her small breasts completed the image of a pretty and readily available young woman.
Amélie had conveniently forgotten that she herself always went topless at the beach—unless she happened to be vacationing in Egypt, of course. Nor did she normally dress much more modestly.
Besides, the suffocating heat hardly allowed anyone to wear much clothing. Whether you wanted to or not, you eventually started resembling a stripper unless you preferred being slowly roasted alive in your own juices.
Or getting heatstroke.
On the other hand, covering at least some of your body with thin fabric was necessary, unless you wanted to turn yourself into a perfectly grilled meal on two legs.
“That’s everything, thank you,” the blonde said calmly, tossing her sun-bleached hair.
Then she pulled out her wallet and paid.
Afterward, she pulled onto her head the hat that had been hanging down her back by its strings and put on a pair of brown-tinted sunglasses, which until then had been folded neatly in the hollow between her breasts.
Amélie was pleased all over again when she saw that the woman was paying for herself rather than letting the man pay for her.
Hopefully, sometime soon, the gorgeous creature would develop some minor ailment.
Or perhaps he’d need to replenish his supply of condoms.
Then he would come back.
Alone.
And they could have a nice heart-to-heart conversation.
Right now, Amélie couldn’t unleash the full power of her flirting skills with that shameless little blonde flea hanging around.
She probably bosses the poor sensitive man around, too. Buy me that diamond! No, not that one—the bigger one! And throw in a couple of islands while you’re at it.
Okay, maybe I’m getting carried away.
When the customers left and the bell over the door jingled again, Amélie eagerly peered through the window.
The couple had to walk past this side of the building. There was nowhere else to go: farther down was a dead end and the wall of a factory producing Coca-Cola from marijuana—
well, Fanta and Sprite, actually.
But to her utter astonishment, nobody passed the window.
Amélie even rubbed her eyes.
No.
The narrow street was silent and deserted.
There weren’t even any suspicious black cats or other animals into which, according to the laws of the genre, the couple might have transformed.
Right, of course. They vanished by magic! she thought sarcastically. The girl probably flew away on a broom. She’s obviously a witch. And him…
He probably flew off on a nice comfortable sofa.
Or a dragon.
Shaking her head, Amélie touched her forehead to check whether she had overheated, then sighed and returned to the register.
The day was clearly not going well.
---
“You still haven’t told me why you needed all those medicines,” Archie said after they teleported back to the Inquisition.
That was the name of the world Lillian Berian—who had long since grown accustomed to answering to Lily—called home.
Not that anyone there was particularly happy to see Archie.
But since they had discovered they were incapable of restricting his movements, they simply pretended his presence had been part of the plan all along, even though they continued to cast disapproving looks in his direction.
Besides, everyone could plainly see that he was pursuing Lily.
And since Lily herself—with her atrocious and completely unpredictable personality—was already one enormous walking problem, they had apparently decided that two negatives might eventually make a positive.
Or cause an explosion.
The two of them settled on the edge of a cliff overlooking an endless ocean. Steel-gray and deep-blue waves seemed to reach toward the sky before collapsing into white foam far below.
They took off their shoes and dangled their bare feet over the edge.
Even at such an enormous height, occasional droplets of sea spray managed to reach them.
“Trinity is sick,” Lily finally replied.
“Hmm. Am I supposed to find that interesting?”
“You asked!” Lily snapped.
“All right. If you need any help…” Archie paused. “I’m not offering any.”
“I figured.” She snorted. “You never change.”
“I’m twenty-three. Why should I change?”
“Really? You look older. Probably because of all those muscles. Although your eyes are very, very childish. And very, very stupid.”
“I won’t even mention yours. Oh, that marvelous shade of infantile innocence and baby-blue lack of awareness! And they’re so huge and round. Like an anime character.”
“You’re truly a master of negotiation and compliments! Did you take some kind of pickup-artist course? Because if you did, you got scammed. That was clearly a course called How to Make Enemies of Every Woman on Earth. Except maybe women over forty, who have probably stopped caring about this nonsense altogether.”
“Speaking of which, when are we going out again? And somewhere other than a pharmacy this time. Somewhere more interesting.” He stretched out comfortably.
“I don’t know, Archie,” Lily replied, suddenly sounding less cheerful. “You see, they’re sending me in place of the novice Trinity James to replace Snow White in one of the fairy tales. You understand—this is only my second assignment, so I need to prepare. And somehow persuade the Chest to cooperate, because ever since my less-than-successful stint as Cinderella, it practically runs away whenever it sees me. And speaking of Cinderella…”
She stared thoughtfully into the distance and began counting on her fingers.
“I mustn’t forget to get Anna and Jack a wedding present. And I actually have to make it to the wedding, or Anna will think I hate her. Or that I’m jealous.”
“Ahem.” Archie cleared his throat meaningfully. “You see, there’s a slight complication.”
Lily narrowed her eyes at him.
“They’re sending me into Snow White’s world too. And I have a feeling we’re going to end up in exactly the same fairy-tale dimension.”
“And who are you supposed to be? Serving the forces of darkness again?” Lily asked, astonished.
“The evil huntsman, obviously,” he replied mournfully. “You remember—the one who carried out the queen’s orders to eliminate beautiful young women. The same one who was supposed to cut out Snow White’s heart but suddenly decided to spare her. Apparently all the other beautiful women weren’t worth feeling sorry for, but she was.”
“Oh, wonderful. We’re screwed again. And, as usual, together,” Lily groaned.
“You could always jump into the ocean. Give our conversation a suitably dramatic ending.” Archie snorted as he stood and stretched.
“Not a chance! I’d sooner throw you in,” she declared belligerently, getting to her feet as well.
Archie grabbed her, knocked her down onto the soft grass, and pinned her beneath the pleasant weight of his body.
“You’re not getting away, beautiful,” he whispered against her lips.
Then he kissed her.
Lily didn’t resist for long.
