by Amelia Shaw
I opened the door slowly to a dark hallway. Soft green wallpaper lined the wall across from my door. The floors were the same wood of my room, but graced with a long ornate rug that ran the entire length of the endless corridor.
I stepped out the door, looked down the hall to my left, and then to my right. My instincts rarely let me down, so I listened this time and headed left. After a few minutes of wandering in near darkness, I felt the polished wood of a stair rail under my palm.
My eyes adjusted, and I carefully walked down a set of stairs to come to a landing, and then another set of stairs. Rich people. I shook my head and kept walking until I reached what I assumed was the next floor. No lights, no people that I could make out in the dark. I kept going to the ground floor.
A beam of light cut through the darkness and I crept toward it, keeping my steps light and my gaze roving for Fin to jump out at any second.
Someone grabbed me from behind. I grabbed their hand, twisted, and threw them over my hip to land splayed on their back on the floor. A stout woman in an apron glared up from me in a heap.
“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I’m a little jumpy.”
I helped her to her feet, but she shoved my hands away as I tried to adjust her skewed uniform.
Well, fine then. It was her fault for grabbing me in a dark foyer.
“If you point me toward my clothes and the door, I’ll just be on my way.”
She glared more and pointed toward the lit doorway.
“Nope, not going in there. Especially if he is in there.” I spun on my heel toward the towering double door I assumed was the exit.
A hand caught my shoulder again and this time I shoved it off instead of taking her down. “Touch me again and I’ll break a few fingers. I don’t care if you are just doing your job. I’m being held against my will.”
She shook her head and pointed back toward the light. I didn’t bother explaining again. Instead, I jiggled the knob on the door in front of me. No luck, this one was locked and by a key, no deadbolt or chain I could remove to let myself out.
“I hate this place,” I grumbled. Beyond over this entire situation, I let out a long exhale and went toward the light she’d been so frantic about getting me into.
I stepped into the Beauty and the Beast dining room. More polished wood and silver than I’d seen in my entire life. A dang chandelier hung above the yards long table that bisected the room.
Someone set the table for one. An enormous plate of foot, still steaming, sat on a gold charger in front of a high-back chair.
My stomach reminded me how hungry I get when I don’t eat by squeezing hard and making me want to vomit.
My mouth watered at the sight of the food. I wanted to shove my face into the plate, but I didn’t trust Fin or this house. I let the maid lead me to the chair, and I sat, but I didn’t touch the food.
Oh, bingo. I snagged the butter knife from the place setting and carefully slid it up the slit in the nightgown. I didn’t exactly have many places to hide it. My boobs were basically non-existent. I would never been able to stash things in there like some of my more well-endowed hunter girlfriends. But I could also go without a bra. Life was a balancing act.
The maid brought over a bottle of wine and sat it on the table in front of the empty wine glass. When she left, I grabbed the fork and tried to put it up my nightgown too, but it wouldn’t work so I placed it back on the table.
The scent of the chicken and vegetables hit me hard, and my stomach lurched again. My head spun, and I took a deep breath through my mouth.
What else could Fin do to me at this point? He’d already controlled my person; it seemed a little stupid to poison me after going to all that trouble to bring me here. And dress me in silk. Vomit did not wash out of silk—a lesson I learned the hard way after one too many lemon drops on a night out.
I picked up the fork again and stabbed a bit of the mashed potato. It smelled normal, a little starchy, lots of butter. I licked the end of the fork and garlic chased across my senses. Damn it. I leaned over and started shoving the food in my face.
“Enjoying yourself?” a deep voice interrupted me.
Fork still in my mouth, I looked up to Fin standing next to the table watching me. He wore a black suit with a white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his hair pulled back in a low ponytail which did unspeakable things for his cheekbones. Not fair he could be that good looking when all I wanted to do was hate him.
I swallowed heavily and sat back. “You didn’t poison it, did you?”
His brow furrowed. “Of course not. Mrs. Brack would never ruin a good meal just to kill someone.”
“Oh, good,” I said, dryly. “I want my clothes back. I don’t appreciate being stripped while unconscious.”
“My apologies, I had to be sure you weren’t hiding any more weapons. I’ll return your belongings once we’ve come to an agreement.”
I stabbed the chicken with the fork more forcefully than necessary. “What kind of agreement? Because right now I want to put the cutlery through each of your eyeballs while I sit on your chest and watch you scream in pain.”
He chuckled. “You have a delightfully colorful imagination, Zoey. I can appreciate that. Even when you’re threatening me with bodily harm.”
I shrugged. “Bodily harm, emotional harm. Hell, I want to go full blown trauma on your ass. You kidnapped me.”
“I do apologize for that.” The bastard didn’t look in the least bit sorry with his soft grin and shiny leather shoes.
“Just tell me what you want so I can go home. You said you aren’t a bad guy, but I’m beginning to think you’re a liar as well as a dick.”
I tensed as he walked toward me, trailing his graceful fingers along the polished wood of the table. “I’m not a liar. I’ll tell you what you want to know once you agree to work with me. Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy controlling you any more than you enjoy it.”
“I highly doubt it was worse for you than it is for me.”
He stopped a few inches from the arm of my chair and stared down at me. The ice-blue glow in his eyes seemed to look right through me. I wouldn’t squirm for him. He’d taken enough from me today.
“Agree to work with me and we can get to business.”
The words stuck in my throat. I abhorred the thought of giving him what he wanted, yet I needed to get out of here.
He ducked down and knelt by my chair and the vision of him, almost eye level with me, twisted things inside my chest, probably right where my heart should be.
“Help me, Zoey,” he whispered, leaning in, his eyes imploring.
Oh, fucking hell.
The ice coating my insides thawed with a single look like that. Those lips, and eyes, and that damn hair. I checked in with myself, assuming he glamoured me again, but nope. I didn’t feel that push in my head I’d felt earlier.
He leaned in farther, his face only inches from mine. I swallowed heavily, the taste of garlic still in my mouth. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his lips, his eyes, as he oh-so-slowly closed the distance between us.
His mouth brushed mine at the same time his hand shot up the slit in my nightgown and closed around the knife I’d stashed there.
Chapter Seven
I jerked away from his lemon-flavored lips and slapped him so hard my hand stung from the force of it.
He stood, placing the butter knife inside a potted plant on the sideboard. While he turned away, I snagged the fork from my chicken and launched myself toward him. He gripped my wrists with his hands and held me back too easily. I kicked out, but he effortlessly dodged my feet.
My chest heaved with each breath, and I glared my hatred at him.
I’m a violent person, but right now I was myself pretty damn blood thirsty. I wanted him crying on the floor, apologizing.
It took a minute to sink through my haze of rage, but he hadn’t glamoured me. He simply held me off and waited for me to calm down, staring down at my face with such a soft look it made me want to
smack him again. An angry red handprint bloomed on his left cheek.
“Why aren’t you using your power on me now?”
He sighed as if I’d shifted from adversary to petulant child. “I only used my glamour because we were in public and I didn’t want a scene in front of all those humans. You’re strong and viscous from what I’ve read about you. I didn’t want to risk someone getting hurt.”
I tried to jerk from his grip but barely moved at all. After a few seconds, he released me, and I stumbled back into the chair.
“Do you think I’d hurt innocent people? I’m not that person. I admit to using my skills when necessary to get information, or make a catch, but I would never hurt a random bystander to save my own skin.”
Some of my fight fizzled at the idea he’d considered me to be one of those hunters who reveled in collateral damage. I’d always been careful in that aspect. The chief didn’t tolerate it, and neither did I.
He studied me and I avoided his gaze.
“Can we put the cutlery away and discuss this like civilized adults?” he asked. “Can I pour you some wine? I promise, you’ve never had anything this delicious.”
I spoke before thinking. “Is that where the poison is?”
Childish, even for me. I couldn’t get past the anger pouring through my veins.
He pulled the loose cork from the bottle, poured a glass, took a sip, and then offered it to me. “No poison here. I promise I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk. Afterward, if you still want to leave, I’ll have someone take you home and pay you for the time I’ve taken. Sit, please, and eat. We can discuss things when you finish your meal. I can hear your stomach growling from here.”
The food had tasted good, I had to admit. I sipped the wine and then cupped my hand over my mouth. Holy hell. It tasted wonderful. Like grape cotton candy.
Once I swallowed, I held out the glass. “What is this?”
“I’ll tell you soon.” At the look on my face he laughed. “It won’t harm you. It just reveals more than I’m willing without your agreement to work with me.”
Fair enough.
I sat in the chair and then had to get back up to grab my fork where he’d put it farther up the table. My face burned all the way back to my seat. As I ate, he skirted the end of the table and came to sit in the chair directly to my right. I was grateful for the silence as I polished off the last of the meal and sipped the wine.
“Dessert?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. Please, say your piece so I can go home.”
His jaw tightened, and he leaned over to pour a glass of wine for himself. I got the impression he wasn’t the sharing type. Maybe his reluctance to reveal whatever he held back had been the reason for all the kidnapping and mind-control.
“Tell me what you know about the Black Mage.”
I snorted wine through my nose and it dotted the plate and table around my place setting. Through the burn, I mopped up my face and the table with the cloth napkin.
“Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“Clearly.”
It took a minute to gather my thoughts, to filter what I knew about him, the Black Mage. Was Fin working for him? Was that why he had brought me here? A new flavor of fear suffused my system. The chief’s words about the Black Mage hunting me rang in my ears. I fought to keep my hand from shaking as I brought the wine to my lips again.
After a long drink, I answered, “Why do you want to know?”
We were playing a dangerous game here, trying to balance what we said to each other without giving something away and without withholding too much.
His face appeared carefully neutral save the solid edge to his jawline, telling me he was as tense as me. “I can’t tell you that without knowing something important.”
I waved him on. “Just get on with it.”
“I need to know why you are hunting him. From my research, I think I know why, but I need you to confirm it.”
Telling him meant an act of trust. And Fin was far down the list of men I would put my trust in. My history wasn’t exactly a secret. If he dug deep enough, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly then locked my eyes to his. My hands shook, and I tucked them in my lap under the table. “The Black Mage killed my parents. I found their bodies.”
His shoulders, which had been tense and high, relaxed. Some tension bled from his jaw and down his neck. “I was correct in my inference then. I’m sorry for your loss.”
I didn’t respond with the usual ‘thank you’. Trust went both ways. He needed to show me I wouldn’t regret sharing something so personal about myself.
He sipped his wine in silence and then turned his chair so to face me completely. Why did I want to comfort him right now? Smooth away the lines stacked up on his forehead.
“I kidnapped you because I want you to help me hunt the Black Mage to whatever hole he hides himself in and drag him into the light of day.”
“And then? Are you going to kill him?” No one would take that right from me, not even this beautiful man with his sad eyes. Not even his magic could compete with the black hole inside my chest where my revenge lay.
It waited for the day I could stoke my rage from the dark embers to a full flaming glory and destroy the Black Mage for good.
“It’s not something I’m prepared to discuss right now. I could see you thinking maybe I’d brought you here because I work for him. My admission was more of an assurance of your safety than anything else.”
They said the enemy of my enemy was my friend. I didn’t prescribe to that philosophy. The enemy of my enemy was still my damn enemy, and if he got in my way, he would get mowed down too.
But even if I didn’t trust him, I could work with him. Hadn’t I just been considering a new set of eyes on my files? Maybe Fin would give me the ultimate pieces I needed to catch the Black Mage.
We had one last thing to settle between us. I sat back in the chair and levelled him my best no nonsense gaze.
“I get why you couldn’t lead with that, but why in the hell didn’t you hire me like a normal fucking person instead of kidnapping me? It’s hard to get past the fact that you controlled me. Really hard.”
He spread his hands in front of him. “I apologize for doing what I had to do.”
I plucked a green bean from my plate and threw it at his face. “Really, that wasn’t a fucking apology. Try again.”
His gaze darkened, and he leaned over the table, his hands flat in front of him now. “I apologized. It was a lot more than most people get from me.”
“Wow. So I’m supposed to be grateful you basically just told me sorry, but I kidnapped you for the greater good. Sorry I kidnapped you because I’m a dick who can’t pick up the phone and call like a normal person.” I threw another green bean at him. It hit his jacket and bounced down to the floor. “Sorry I can’t be an adult and use my words to get what I want.”
I could breathe fire right now with the anger boiling under my veins.
“You kidnapped me. You saw me naked without my permission. You controlled my mind and body. I can overlook a lot of things in favor of a mutually beneficial work arrangement, but I don’t know if you will survive us working together with that ego of yours.”
“My ego.” The chair hit the floor as he stood. “You think I’m the only one in this room with a massive ego. So all the cursing, sarcasm, and feigned disinterest is your way of expressing your oh-so-pure human heart?”
“I’m not the one who did anything wrong here. I don’t have to justify myself because I didn’t kidnap you.”
He ripped the button on his suit coat through the hole and stripped it off. It hit the floor with a woosh from the force of his throw. Then he started on the buttons of his dress shirt. “Fine. Will my own nudity help ease your delicate sensibilities? I highly doubt I’m the first one to see you naked.”
Wow.
I threw the rest of the beans on the plat
e at his chest. He batted them away and removed the shirt.
My heart began to pound and my mouth was suddenly dry as the desert.
His silky smooth golden skin cut through my anger as I took in the long lean line of his torso. The ripples of his abs, the dusky hair around his nipples.
When his hands went to this belt buckle, it broke the spell, and I skittered out of my chain.
“No. You don’t have to strip.” I squared my shoulders, trying to exude nonchalance while my insides were turning to jelly. “Besides, I’d hate to add tiny dick jokes to my repertoire until we part ways.”
He glared, not rising to my taunt. Part of me wished he would whip it out just to shut me up.
I softened my tone. “All I want to know is why you didn’t just hire me? Why go through all this?”
“I didn’t use the traditional methods of contact because I wasn’t sure if I could trust you.” He fisted his hands along his hips. “You asked me at the café what I am. I couldn’t reveal it then, and to be honest, I was surprised you didn’t figure it out. I’m fae.”
My mouth hung open, and I snapped it shut, studying him. I’d never met a fae before. Thankfully, considering the power of his glamour. He looked like a human, well, a ridiculously good looking human with perfect smooth skin and lips made for kissing.
The memory of his lips against mine flashed in my head.
I shook it off and took a step toward him. “I’m not sure what to say.”
He snorted. “Finally, you’re speechless. Thank the Gods.”
I reached out to touch his chest, but then curled my fingers into my palm before making contact. “May I?”
He shrugged and opened his arms.
His skin was smooth and silky under my palms. “Is glamour the only power you have?”
Oh, my god, how is he so damn beautiful?
“It’s the only power I’m willing to discuss for the moment. It’s my strongest gift.” His deep voice so close poured through me, chasing away the dregs of anger I’d been holding on to.
I ran my fingers over the top curve of his pec and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. The crystal shards around his iris intrigued me, as did the simmering heat as I touched him.