Filthy Rich Fae

Chapter Six

I spent the night fighting sleep, terrified of what might happen when I closed my eyes. But I had pulled a full shift before coming here and barely slept before that. When the call of sleep became too heavy to resist, I dragged a heavy velvet armchair in front of the door, locked it, and collapsed on the chair. A sharp knock startled me awake what felt like a minute later, and I forgot where I was for a moment.

I stared at the door, wondering if I’d imagined the knock in the dreamless state between sleep and waking. But a muffled voice called, “I’d prefer not to break the door down. It’s an antique.”

Something told me he would dare to break it down, so I shoved the chair away from it. Drawing my shoulders back, I unlocked it.

Gage filled the doorway but didn’t enter. His eyes skirted to the chair, his brow raising slightly, a smile ghosting over his lips. “Was there a problem with the bed?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “Better safe than sorry.”

His nostrils flared. “Locking your door will suffice.”

“Will it?” I crossed my arms. “Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t.” He shrugged, tipping his head in silent request.

I groaned and stepped to the side. “That was refreshingly honest.”

“Not honest. A simple fact. I will assume that if your door is locked, you do not want it to be opened. Besides,” he added, a wicked gleam in his eyes, “I can nip inside regardless of locks or whatever fortress you contrive.”

“Nip?” I asked faintly.

He grinned and snapped his fingers.

The world swept from under us, but before I could scream, my feet found solid ground. My stomach churned as I stared around the dining room I’d explored yesterday. It wasn’t empty now. Guards were stationed in the doorways, hands folded, eyes trained to some vacant spot in the distance. There were no guns in sight, but I suspected they had them holstered under their black jackets. The fact that they looked almost bored made them more menacing than if I could see their weapons.

Gage ignored them as he walked to the far end of the black stone table, where three place settings were laid. The silver-haired guard from last night at the Avalon—Roark, I recalled—looked up from his phone and gave me a silent nod hello. He was as huge as Gage now, maybe bigger, and he had those same pointed ears and strange tattoos. Handsome in a brutal way. He looked like he’d been chiseled from ancient stone, hewn from the primordial elements that made up the world. Gage stopped at the seat across from Roark and pulled out a chair but didn’t sit. It took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me.

I didn’t quite trust my legs yet after he’d used that finger-snapping trick on me. “Let me guess. Nipping?”

“It’s more convenient than walking. We nip from here to there with a snap of our fingers.” He held up his hand, and I shrank back a step, waiting to be whisked to another place, but he only laughed and gestured to the chair. “Breakfast is getting cold.”

Platters heaped with sausages, eggs, and pastries appeared, and hunger rumbled inside me. I knew how long a human could survive without food. My stomach did not. “I think I prefer walking,” I grumbled but started slowly toward the table.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Some of my appetite evaporated at the implication of those words. I’d get used to it because this was my new life, my new world. By the time I reached the seat, I no longer wanted to eat at all.

Gage piled his own plate full of food, frowning when I didn’t do the same. He waved a hand, and a bowl of strawberries appeared between us. He picked it up and held it out.

I didn’t move.

“It’s perfectly safe to eat.” He plucked a particularly large berry and bit into it as proof.

“I’m not hungry.”

Across from me, Roark watched over his phone but didn’t say anything. He also wasn’t eating. I got the impression he was holding back a smile, though.

Gage took another strawberry. “Is that your plan, then?”

“Plan?” I tried to sound innocent.

“I assume you’ve been plotting how to get out of our bargain.” He tossed a stem onto his plate. “I’d be disappointed if a hunger strike is the best you’d come up with.”

The truth was that I’d come up with nothing. I had no idea where I was or how to get from his world to my own. That made plotting an escape damn near impossible. And then there was the matter of this bargain. Even if I could get out of here, what would stop him from tracking me down? Or going after Channing? I was stuck. For now.

I should let him think he won. Maybe he’d let his own guard down, let something slip. But I refused to act broken. “Do you really think I would tell you?”

I snatched up my fork and speared a sausage. But I didn’t take a bite.

“So, you claim that you aren’t pixies or garden gnomes,” I mused out loud.

Roark, who’d just taken an unfortunately timed drink of coffee, spit it across the table. Gage frowned at the mess. With a wave of his hand, it vanished. “I thought we cleared that misapprehension up yesterday.”

“Fucking gnomes?” Laughter choked Roark’s voice.

“We didn’t clear up anything.” I brandished my fork at Gage. I still hadn’t touched a bite. “You told me you were fae, which means jack shit to me. I’m just going off what I’ve seen in fairy tales.”

His knife clattered to the table, a half-buttered scone forgotten on his plate. “Fae existed long before human stories. Our world was civilized millennia before yours—”

“You expect me to believe that?” I interrupted him.

“No.” His mouth twisted. “I do not, considering that you’ve seen the truth with your own eyes and you’re still acting like a brat.”

A brat? I smiled widely at him. He had no idea. “I’m just trying to understand what you are and where I am and why the hell I never knew about any of this.”

“Why?” Gage’s eyes narrowed.

“Speed up the Stockholm syndrome?” I shrugged at his annoyed expression.

Roark barely covered a laugh with his hand, but Gage’s gaze remained pinned on me.

“One question,” he said finally.

I lifted a brow.

“You may ask one thing about us or our world,” he said in a tight voice. It sounded like he was begrudgingly offering a kidney, not agreeing to something as simple as answering a question.

But I had gotten the short end of the stick with this bargain, so I shook my head. “Two.”

“Two?” Gage repeated. “Are you negotiating?” He cursed under his breath.

“Would you rather I remain confused on the difference between a fae and a gnome?” I asked with mock sweetness.

He grimaced as he picked up his scone. “Fine. Two.”

“What are fae, exactly?” I asked before he changed his mind and threw me back in my room.

“A species,” he said dryly.

“That’s not really an answer.”

“A magical species.” He sighed when I continued to stare. “How would you explain being human?”

Damn, he had me there. I studied the sausage on the end of my fork. “So, you’re a magical species, but so far all I’ve seen you do is snap and move from place to place. Is that as far as your magic goes?”

“Pray that you never find out everything we can do, princess.” The predatory smile that oozed across his face sent my pulse racing, my entire body tensing at the implied threat. “That was two questions. Happy?”

He hadn’t really explained anything, but I found myself nodding anyway. Sooner or later, I would find someone willing to talk to me. For now, I zeroed in on Roark, pointing my sausage in the direction of his phone. “Does that actually work down here?”

“Hoping to call for help?” Gage guessed.

I ignored him. “My phone died. I couldn’t charge it.”

“No electricity but also no data.” Roark leaned back in his chair, dropping the phone next to his empty plate. His tattoos barely moved, unlike Gage’s, but he wore a similar ring. Maybe some type of family signet? Did every Gage associate wear one? Would Channing have?

Would I?

“That doesn’t stop him from playing games on it all day,” Gage said as he shoveled some eggs and toast onto my plate.

I continued ignoring him. “How do you charge it?”

“I don’t actually live—”

“Enough,” Gage cut him off. I wondered what Roark was about to let slip. Interesting. Maybe it would be easier to get information from him.

Gage redirected his annoyance at me. “You don’t have more pressing concerns than your phone? I’m disappointed.”

I bit off the tip of my sausage. He winced. Appeased, I glared at him. “If you really didn’t kidnap me, let me leave.”

“In such a hurry to go?” He reached for a gold-rimmed goblet.

“Yes.”

“You offered your life in exchange for your brother’s freedom,” he reminded me…again.

I gripped my fork a little more tightly. “Are you saying I can never leave?”

“Since you seem intent on returning to your human life—which sounds rather boring, by the way—”

“It’s not,” I interjected. “I’m a fixed air conditioner away from total happiness.”

“Whatever you say.” He rolled those gorgeous green eyes. “Given your plea yesterday, I’d expected you to be slightly more grateful for my mercy.”

I should never have let him know what Channing meant to me. Gage might be all but a stranger, but now he knew exactly which of my buttons to press.

Roark cleared his throat and rose from the table. “I’ll leave you two to…talk.”

Gage shot him an incredulous look, but Roark responded with a grin as he backed out of the room.

“What is he? Your bodyguard?”

“Bodyguard?” Gage repeated, lips twitching. “Do I need protection?”

My eyes fixed on the other armed guards in the room. “You tell me.”

“You get used to them.” He waved a hand. “But no. Roark is my penumbra.” He sighed at my confused expression and raised the hand that wore the matching ring.

“Are those, like, your version of friendship bracelets?” I asked slowly.

He looked to the ceiling like he might find a fresh supply of patience there. “‘Penumbra’ means shadow. When an heir to the throne is born, a child born on the same day at the same time is chosen to be raised alongside him as a companion.”

“And his family just…?”

“It’s considered a great honor to be taken as a penumbra. He has lived here his entire life.” He shrugged as though this was perfectly normal. Then again, he’d taken me. Apparently, the fae had no issues with abduction.

I pushed some food around my plate. “Sounds like he didn’t have a choice.”

“Don’t feel sorry for him. A penumbra is second only to the one he serves. He is my right hand; moving against him is akin to treason. In my absence, he acts as me. He has as much freedom as I do.”

That didn’t sound like much, actually. I kept the thought to myself. “Must be nice.”

Gage grimaced at my jab. Setting down his goblet, he reached into his pocket. “For you.” He held out a black box.

Taking it tentatively, I opened the lid to find a gold chain. Hanging from it was a pendant of interwoven loops, at the center of which lay a sparkling black stone like the one in his ring. Up close, it seemed to drink the light into its endless depths.

“Is it onyx?” I asked, not touching it.

“The stone is an abismine. It’s from my world.”

Alarm bolted through me. Accepting anything from him was dangerous, but this… He wore this stone, as did Roark. Was this to mark his ownership over me in a way others could see?

“It’s not dangerous,” he said, picking up on the tension in my body. “And it serves a purpose.”

He rose and stepped behind my chair. My hands shook as I reached back and lifted my hair, allowing him to slip the chain around my neck. My heart pounded when his fingers brushed my nape, my whole body too aware of that single touch. As soon as the clasp closed, I dropped my hair and angled myself away from him.

“And what is its purpose?”

“It connects you to me,” he said. “Touch the stone, and you can call for me. Whatever you think, I will hear.”

My eyes widened, but I quickly rearranged my face into a more neutral state. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you’ll need a means to contact me when you are in your world—unless you wish to stay in the Otherworld forever and keep me company.”

Hope bubbled inside me, but I tamped it down, afraid to let it show on my face. I’d seen enough of Lach to warrant caution about showing him my hand. “So, I can leave the Otherworld?”

“As long as you return as expected.”

These were the terms of the bargain, I realized, and I needed to tread carefully. Speaking without thinking, without considering the consequences, had gotten me into this mess. “And when am I expected? Every week? Once a month? Once a year?”

Mischief glittered in his eyes. “Human life spans are far too short for that. You gave me your soul, remember? I expect you to be here every night.”

“Every night?” I touched the necklace. If this fairy asshole thought I was giving up every night of my life to amuse him, he needed—

“I can hear you,” he reminded me, those eyes of his now dancing with wicked delight.

I snatched my hand away from the necklace like it might bite. I was going to have to remember that.

“I can’t think of any other agreement that would work for me. Do you have a better plan?” He waited for me to offer one.

But planning was not my strong suit. Reacting? I was good at that. Thinking long term was a luxury I’d never been afforded, and now he wanted me to make a decision that would affect the rest of my life? “How about you just let me go? It’s not like you need me around with your guards and big, empty house and important fae bullshit.”

His mouth flattened, the spark leaving his eyes. “I do not agree to those terms. You promised your soul.”

“So you keep reminding me,” I grumbled. Maybe one day I’d understand exactly what he needed with my soul anyway. For now, I sighed. “I can’t come every night. I might have a shift.” I swallowed. That was, if I didn’t get fired. “Once I’m reinstated.”

“If you wish to continue working—”

“I wish,” I snapped. “People depend on me.”

“Like Channing?”

My eyes narrowed. “Not just Channing. I work at Gage Memorial. Someone has to clean up your messes.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything as he weighed my words. “As I said, I will settle for your nights. I will speak to the hospital regarding your availability.”

Of course he could do that. His name was on the trauma center. He could do whatever he wanted. But still, the more I understood about this, the better off I would be. I pointed to the necklace he’d just given me. “So, I will use this to come back here?”

“It’s also spelled to send you to your world at sunrise. At night, when you are ready to return, just think it, touch the necklace, and it will be done.” He waited for me to object, but I didn’t. Not with so many lovely loopholes to work with. But as if he’d just realized that, too, he added, “I expect you within an hour of sunset.”

“Wonderful,” I said through gritted teeth. “And if I forget?”

“The necklace is a courtesy.”

“And if I don’t want to wear it?”

“I will know if it’s removed. Would you prefer one of these?” He pointed to his tattooed arm, and some of the ink fled at the attention.

Revulsion flooded me at the idea of something so permanent—at being marked by him forever. Suddenly, the necklace seemed like a really good idea. “I’d rather not.”

“Then do not take it off,” he warned me. “I can always use the bargain’s bond if you forget, but that way is rather unpleasant.”

I touched the back of my neck, remembering the prickle I’d felt when the deal was struck. “The bargain’s bond?”

“It’s like a leash—”

I narrowed my eyes. “I dare you to call it a leash again.”

“I suppose collar isn’t better?” The smirk was back.

“Getting colder,” I bit out.

“A connection,” he said carefully, still smiling. “Our lives are bound now, after all.”

“So, that’s it? You just get to claim every night forever?”

“Not forever.” But before I could cling to that, he added, “After all, you are human. There can be no bargain with the dead.”

“At least I have something to look forward to.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re delightful, princess?”

I smiled with mock sweetness. “Rarely.” I paused. “And if you die? Do I get passed down in a will or what?”

“Fae can live for thousands of years. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He sighed at my raised brows. “Death breaks the bargain for both parties. Happy?”

I shrugged. Happy wasn’t the word I would use, but it was useful information. A bargain could be broken. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And fae could die—or be killed. I thought of the other man who’d been wheeled in with Channing. I’d seen his pointed ear and thought it was my imagination, but he had been fae. He hadn’t survived the gunshot wound. Gage carried guns; so did all of his guards. If that—

“I mean, I could gift you to another court,” he added, tearing me from my thoughts. “But I’m not sure any of them deserve dealing with you.”

I bristled at the insult, so annoyed that I nearly missed what he was implying. When it hit me, I forgot how to breathe. “Gift?” I repeated, unable to hide my horror. “I don’t belong to you.”

It was his turn to shrug. “Your soul does.”

“Would you give me away?” I forced myself to ask.

“Unlikely.” There was nothing reassuring about his answer.

“Till death do us part.” I grimaced at the thought. “Why did you do it?”

He was more talkative than he’d been yesterday. Maybe I stood a chance of getting an answer.

I needed to find a way out of this bargain that didn’t involve me dying. What if he just decided to keep me here forever? What if he got bored with me? I would never be safe in the Otherworld, but what choice did I have? I belonged to Gage as long as I lived. Escaping wouldn’t help. He could summon me to him with that unstoppable magic. I felt sure of that. And if I messed up, he might go after Channing in revenge. I thought of what had happened to that man in the room last night. Gage had no issue with violence, and neither did any of the other men there. I had to find a way to not only break the bargain but also escape the Otherworld and keep Gage away from Channing.

“I have my reasons.” He sipped from his goblet, but his shoulders had seized slightly and his knuckles were white around the cup. “About this evening.”

I went cold, but I forced myself to take another bite.

“I’d like you to join me. There is a party at midnight—”

“No,” I cut him off.

He blinked several times. “Excuse me?”

“The terms don’t say I have to spend my evening with you,” I pointed out.

“It wasn’t a request.” His voice was low. Lethal.

I reached for my own goblet and lifted it to my lips, pausing to repeat myself. “No.”

He pushed his chair back with a loud screech. Rising, he planted his palms on the table and glared down at me. “You will attend, or I will drag you.”

My heart began to pound, but I didn’t look away from those murderous eyes. “I dare you to try.” I lifted my chin. I’d done what I had to do to protect Channing, but I drew the line at spending time with this monster. “I want to go home now. That is the arrangement.”

His jaw worked for a moment like he was chewing on a decision. “I will see you tonight, princess.”

Before I could argue, he snapped his fingers, but he didn’t send me home. Instead, I found myself on the floor of my new bedroom, still in the Nether Court.

I grabbed the pendant. Send me home now.

When the demand didn’t work, I closed my eyes and wished myself home. No luck there, either. It was clear he was ignoring me despite the stupid necklace. I’d gotten under his skin, and that was a dangerous place to be. I’d seen what Gage was capable of, and that left me little choice in what I did next. He had told me exactly how to break the bargain and protect Channing at the same time.

I had to kill Lachlan Gage.