Cinderella Assassin Read online

  Cinderella Assassin

  A Glass Slipper Adventure

  by

  Allie Burton

  Allie Burton

  Cinderella Assassin

  A Glass Slipper Adventure

  Copyright © 2020 by Alice Fairbanks-Burton

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced, downloaded, transmitted, decompiled, reverse engineered, stored in or introduced to any information storage and retrieval system in any form, whether electronic or mechanical without the author’s written permission. Scanning, uploading or distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission is prohibited.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic versions, and do not participate in, or encourage pirated electronic versions.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  CINDERELLA ASSASSIN

  Copyright

  Stay in Touch

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Sneak Peek at CINDERELLA SOLDIER

  A Note from Allie Burton

  What to Read Next

  Also by Allie Burton

  About the Author

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  Chapter One

  The dark and dingy alley was the perfect place for making an illegal deal.

  The bright crystal castle sitting high on the nearby mountain prevented the early morning light shimmering through the almost-invisible dome from reaching this drab, grease-filled spot. Adding to the dreariness, the shiny business and residential towers reflected sunlight in the opposite direction. The crowded skywalk didn’t travel this way, so people weren’t wandering about, and the area had an abandoned feel to it. Rustling and blowing papers, darkness, and despair.

  We were isolated here, safe from discovery.

  As long as the SCUM—Security Collectors of Unique Magic—didn’t show up.

  Then I’d be a goner.

  For now, however, I was huddling near a trash chute with my best friend, Arbor, nervously waiting for our contact to arrive, I tapped a quick beat on the dirty pavement with my boot-clad toe. In spite of the monotonous-official-perfect-year-round temperature, sweat dribbled down my back.

  Arbor, a smoke sprite, buzzed in front of my face. Her short, psychedelic hair stood out like a multi-colored flower in hues of pink and purple. “Don’t hum,” she hissed. “No one should be relaxed.”

  Her command had me biting my lower lip, gnawing at its edges. I wasn’t relaxed, far from it. My humming was just a distraction from the eerie, quiet surroundings. I didn’t like it being so quiet, although at least I didn’t have to worry about someone sneaking up on us. I hadn’t even realized I’d been humming.

  I knew the habit made Arbor nervous, and her being nervous would have her going up in smoke—literally. One of a smoke sprite’s idiosyncrasies was showing their emotions by the color of mist they produced.

  “Are you sure we can trust the fairy?” I loosened my grip around the delicate, vintage, glass perfume bottle etched with swirling gold designs. If I clutched it too tight, the fragile glass would crack, shattering my chances of fitting in and having a normal life.

  Arbor fluttered her tiny wings in front of my face, creating a slight breeze and stirring my whitish-blond hair. “Who can you trust completely these days, Elle?”

  Her skepticism stabbed my chest. She was right.

  I remembered the first time my stepsisters tricked me. They’d convinced me to borrow a necklace from my stepmother’s jewelry box saying they needed it to play dress-up with me. I believed them and swiped the necklace, but then the two of them ran off to play together, leaving me out. When they’d fought over the necklace and broken it, they told their mother I’d stolen the piece of jewelry. Which had technically been true, but I was the only who’d gotten in trouble. As punishment, besides all the other chores around the house, I had to give my stepmother foot massages.

  Gross.

  Arbor was different. I trusted her advice. From the beginning, when she’d shown up at my house lost and alone six months ago, she’d steered me straight. She’d taught me about the lost art of humming and the sway it held. She’d shared her laughter and friendship, and information about the secret underbelly of the Kingdom of Alandaska, and tales from the fairies. Hailing from the same province as my mother, she had to be good.

  “Why does this fairy want my mom’s old perfume bottle enough that they’re willing to pay creds?” I sniffed at the top, taking in the strange rotting vegetable smell and crinkled my nose. “It certainly isn’t for the scent.”

  “The bottle is a fairy artifact.” Her luminous mossy-green eyes blinked. She wore a green dress with a purposely made rip in the skirt. Her fingerless gloves made her appear more edgy. “The government is trying to destroy our heritage, one tiny item at a time.”

  If the SCUM came upon us, I’d be arrested for possessing a fairy item, and the perfume bottle would be destroyed. Humans couldn’t use or own majik artifacts, in case they were tempted to access the magic within.

  My heart tugged as though I’d be handing over the vital organ along with the bottle. I hated parting with anything that had once belonged to Mom. The small trunk hidden in my attic bedroom held my only reminders of her. A precious and emotional link to the mother I barely remembered. But right now, I couldn’t risk being distracted by the past. I needed to focus on my future. I desperately needed the creds the perfume bottle would get so I could buy a dress to wear to the royal ball.

  Stupid to risk so much for something so silly, except an appearance at the ball would establish my place in society.

  A silhouette emerged at the end of the alley. Holding my breath, I watched the gloom float forward, sticking to the edges of the walls until he reached us. The male fairy cast a taller shadow than me. Too-large pants and jacket swallowed his thin frame. If he was trying to look human, he was failing miserably. Fairies came in different types and sizes just like humans, but it was difficult to hide their shorter stature, pointy ears, and fluttering wings.

  “Do you have the item?” His cold, beady eyes raked over me and then narrowed as if spotting something he didn’t like.

  I ran a finger over the edge of my almost-perfectly-round ears. He wasn’t the first to make me feel like I didn’t belong, and I was tired of others’ biased attitude toward me. “If I didn’t, would I be here risking getting ca
ught?”

  Caught by the SCUM or my stepmother. Either would have severe consequences.

  “Elle, shush.” Arbor’s tone resembled that of an army sergeant. It must be how she displayed fear—by ordering me around.

  I understood her fear. I was terrified. We were in a dark alley, making a shady deal with an illegal fairy for an illicit artifact. But why was Arbor fearful when she used the same tone while teaching me things I didn’t want to learn? I got enough bossiness from my stepmom. I didn’t need it from my friend.

  My hands shook slightly as I held out the atomizer, knowing I was giving away a piece of my mom. A vision flashed through my mind of her squeezing the soft bulb at the top and spraying perfume on each side of her neck. The scent hadn’t smelled rotten then, it had smelled beautiful, like her.

  “This is it.” I forced the words between tight lips.

  “How do I know it is what you say it is?” The fairy glowered at Arbor, and her colorful hair spiked higher.

  Once more I was being overlooked and belittled. He was buying the bottle from me, not her.

  “Because I say so.” Her little kid imitation edged with authority.

  “Why would I lie?” My muscles tensed tighter. Fairies couldn’t lie, but I could. He must not trust me. I realize I appeared younger than my sixteen years and also had plenty of lies spoon fed to me. He didn’t know that. “It’s my mom’s perfume bottle.”

  “Lily Kunglig?”

  Hearing my mother’s maiden name again after so long was like a kick to the gut. It shouldn’t bother me. She’d died when I was a toddler. “You knew her?”

  He snatched the bottle from me and held it up to his eyes. I fisted my hands together, forcing myself not to snag it back. My hands felt empty, and the sensation traveled to my chest. Another memory of my mother slipping away.

  This was a bad idea, but it was the only choice I had and the only way to get creds. Creds I desperately needed.

  The fairy clutched the bottle to his pointy nose and smiled. The exact opposite reaction I had. Maybe majiks had different smell sensations.

  He slipped a plastic cred payment out of his pocket. “I’m not allowed to carry creds in this kingdom anymore.”

  Bitterness laced his words, as though he remembered better times for majiks, before the regent decided to put an end to magic in favor of technology, something he could control.

  “Neither am I.” Arbor dove toward the card. With her eight-inch height, even if she was allowed, she wouldn’t be able to carry something so large.

  My fingers tingled as they closed around the card. The creds were the first step in achieving my goal.

  The fairy’s gaze narrowed. “The card better not get traced back to me.”

  “It won’t. I’ll be spending it today.” I had to hurry.

  Shopping was at the end of my very long list. Laundry, cooking, cleaning, and helping my stepsisters prepare for the ball, all before I could head to the mall. The creds weren’t worth much, but I could find a dress on sale.

  Then, when I stepped onto the dance floor at the royal ball, the kids from school would finally accept me as being just like them.

  Nothing strange. Nothing unusual. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  * * *

  “Elle, I’m thirsty.”

  I huffed. The words might not be an order, but my stepsister Ilana’s tone said otherwise.

  Pinching my lips together, I stopped myself from telling her what she could do with her life quotient drink.

  Since returning from the illicit meeting this morning, I’d been running around, doing both my stepsisters’ and stepmother’s bidding.

  Regenerate my skin.

  Apply whitening powder to my body.

  Electra-wax my nose hairs.

  I shivered at the thought of the last one.

  Just because I had an old book filled with natural beauty treatments did not mean I wanted to be their esthe-tech. There was enough work to do around the house, and I still needed to get a dress for myself.

  Ilana waved her fat fingers as if she expected the straw to reach her lips by magic. “I can’t see the glass.” Her face was coated in green goo from the facial I’d just applied to her skin, and her eyes were covered by silicon discs. Her blond hair had been pulled back off her face while the deep conditioning worked on the roots.

  “Ilana needs her hydration.” My stepmother Sybil’s lips thinned. She had a green face too, but no silicon discs. She watched every move I made. “Do it, Elle.”

  Wrapping my fingers around the condensing glass, I wanted to dump the contents of the technological equated health drink onto both of them. However, if I did, I’d be the one cleaning the mess, and then I’d have to start the body treatments over.

  Squeezing my fingers tighter, wishing it was Ilana’s neck, I put the metal straw to her lips and held the glass while she sipped…

  And sipped. And sipped.

  I tapped my foot. I only had two hands and couldn’t finish my other stepsister’s facial while holding the glass. “Done yet?”

  “Fine.” She spat the straw from her mouth. “As if you can’t hold a glass up for a few more seconds. You’re so lazy sometimes, Elle.”

  I’m lazy? My fingers cramped thinking about all the work I’d done. But I wouldn’t complain. Not today. Not ever, really. I needed to keep things harmonious in the household.

  I set the glass down with a snap and moved over to Ingrid, who was propped up on a chair, half-laying and half-sitting. Taller than the average human girl, her feet dangled off the edge.

  We were in the master bedroom, Sybil’s domain. She and Ilana lay on the bed, their heads on multiple pillows. The younger stepsister, Ingrid, got stuck with the glido-chair, which didn’t have a good view of the small vid screen hanging in the corner.

  The master bedroom was so different compared to how it was before my father died. The old wooden bed with silk curtains circling it had been replaced by a metallic headboard and sleep-sensing mattress and pillows, with the hyperbaric lid hanging over the top ready to enclose the sleeper. The dresser matched the bed with sharp, metallic decorations and a large mirror hanging over the center.

  Scooping the green goo out of a bowl, I used a brush to apply the glop to Ingrid’s face. Her fair skin was free of beauty marks, making the application easier. She really didn’t need any kind of enhancement. She was beautiful inside too, if only she’d let that niceness shine through. Around her sister and mother, she tended to be timid and follow their mean leads.

  “This natural rockweed and lichen mask is itchy.” She wiggled in the chair and almost dropped her celltab. “Are you sure this is good for my skin, Elle?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one.” Pampering myself had never been a priority.

  I’d found the book of treatments in my mother’s trunk when I’d been younger, BDD—Before Dad Died. He’d encouraged me to be friends with my new stepsisters, so I’d pulled out the book and offered to play beauty spa. Sybil had heard about our fun and insisted she be included. She’d loved how her skin looked afterward, and suddenly this became a weekly event. Me giving the three of them treatments.

  I’d never complained because I hadn’t wanted to disappoint my dad. Now, I didn’t have a choice.

  Grabbing an old-fashioned emery board, I started filing Ilana’s nails.

  Sybil studied her own newly filed and painted fingers. “Girls, I know tonight is special.”

  Ilana sighed. “We’re going to meet Prince Zacharye.”

  Ingrid giggled in a high-pitched, excited squeal. It was how all the girls in school reacted at the mention of the prince’s name.

  I filed a little rougher, ignoring the instant flush that rose to my skin.

  When I’d been younger, I’d been just as silly about the prince. But now I understood the evil changes happening in our kingdom, and how the prince was complicit.

  “Ouch.” Ilana slapped at my hand.

  “Elle’s treatments are
the best we can do when creds are tight.” Sybil redirected a small, electric fan at her face. Tendrils of her graying, red hair blew in the slight wind. “Later this afternoon, when the professional hair and make-up techs arrive, they will make your faces flawless. Not that either of you have flaws.”

  My mouth dropped open. Cred amounts cha-chinged in my head.

  Of course, Sybil would spend money on making sure her daughters appeared perfect to impress the prince. But those services weren’t cheap. Yet she’d refused to spend creds on buying me a dress.

  At least while they’re occupied, I’ll have time to go to the mall and get dressed for the ball.

  “Has it been on long enough?” Ingrid sounded antsy, with her voice rolling up into a whine. She swiped a finger across her cheek, creating a streak.

  “Stop. You’ll ruin the effects.” I did not want to reapply the mask. Time was short.

  “Nothing will help Ingrid’s ugly features.” Ilana crinkled her nose, pretending to smell something bad.

  The only thing that smelled bad was her.

  “Ilana, stop. Both of you are beautiful, and you both will have a shot at the prince.” Sybil spoke as if he was a target or a meal.

  Or a meal ticket.

  Ingrid sat up, stretched with her long arms to reach toward the bed with a slap trying to smack her sister. She missed, only hitting thin air. Momentum took her forward and she toppled about to fall.

  I dropped the emery board and grabbed her arm trying to stop her from hitting the ground. My fingers slid across her moist skin. Darn, the moisturizer I’d applied earlier. Her arm slipped from my grip and her face planted in the carpet, the green goo splattering across the pink threads.