Filthy Rich Fae

Chapter Twelve

I didn’t know what to do when the sun slipped below the horizon, the day dying in a blaze of fiery orange and crimson. After throwing the necklace at him, I’d waited for Gage to summon me. When the stars punched holes in the velvet night, I began to wonder if he wouldn’t—if he regretted that stupid kiss, too. As midnight approached, I gave up my vigil and poured myself a glass of wine to erase the taste of him lingering in my mouth. I was about to reach for one of my overdue library books when I felt heat prickle the back of my neck.

Then the world was yanked out from under me.

I landed on my ass in the middle of my Nether Court bedroom, wine splashing down the front of my Rolling Stones T-shirt.

Gage leaned against the wall, grinning down at me.

Getting to my feet, I flipped him off. His dark amusement flickered, but he didn’t budge. He was back in his usual suit—probably to better hide his guns from me. His undone shirt collar revealed a whorl of ink that fled out of my sight to somewhere else on his hard body—the body that had been pressed against me a few hours ago. He raked a hand through his jet-black hair, leaving it a tousled mess. “Good evening.”

“Is there something wrong with this place’s foundation?” I snapped at him, swiping at the wine spreading across my torso nearly as swiftly as the heat flooding across my skin. “Or do you just stand around holding up the walls and brooding out of boredom?”

“You’re in a good mood.” He shifted on his feet and moved toward me. “I thought you might be a little nicer to me. I gave you a few hours off.”

I stared at him. That was how he was going to play this? Like he’d been doing me a favor? “Sadly, in your case, absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder.”

He placed a hand on his chest. “You wound me.”

“If only.” I suspected his heart was his least vulnerable target.

I brushed past him, depositing the empty wineglass on the table, and headed into the bathroom to search for a towel to clean up my shirt. He followed me closely. Too closely. The heat of his body, the scent of him—cedar and spice—his mere presence all dredging up memories of that stolen kiss.

I dropped the towel twice, completely flustered between his nearness and those memories. Being this close to him was unbearable. What if he kissed me again?

What if he didn’t?

Oh no, I was not going there. He was definitely screwing with me. I didn’t believe for a second that he wasn’t using his magic.

I gave up on my shirt and whirled around to face him. “Clearly, you missed me.”

“Did I?” His brow curved along with his lips, a tattoo creeping up the side of his neck.

“That, or fae have no concept of personal space.” I took a step back.

He moved closer. “I’m just waiting.”

My eyes narrowed. “For what?”

He leaned in, his mouth angled precariously over mine, his breath hot on my face. I bit my lower lip and waited, all too aware that letting him be this close to me was a terrible idea. If I wasn’t careful, I might find him kissing me again. My breath hitched in my throat, but I didn’t move. I didn’t dare. Our eyes locked, and I knew we were on dangerous ground.

“An apology,” he whispered.

I recoiled. “I’d sit down, then, because you are going to be waiting a long time.”

He gave me that stupid smirk—the one that could probably melt panties. Gage knew exactly what he was doing, baiting me like this, waiting for me to explode. Probably so he could kiss me again and claim it was to shut me up. But I’d fallen for that trick before, and my panties were staying on, thankyouverymuch.

“I’ll apologize when you do, Gage.”

“Why would I apologize?”

“Exactly.” I started around him toward the much larger bedroom, where there was more space for the three of us—me, him, and his enormous ego. “Are you done torturing me yet?”

His lip curled back, a soft snarl escaping him as he blocked me. “My mere presence is torture? Because I’m irresistible, or because you can’t stop thinking about that kiss?”

I swallowed, reaching for every ounce of anger I could summon before he realized how close to the mark he’d hit. “Because every time I look at you, I see the biggest mistake of my life.”

His shoulders went rigid, his tattoos moving so swiftly that they appeared to cloak him entirely in ink. He seemed even larger, as if he belonged entirely to those writhing words and symbols. He advanced one step toward me. “I assure you that the feeling is entirely mutual.”

He relaxed, allowing his scowl to soften to a smile that spread so rapidly, I braced myself. “And to answer your question: the torture is just beginning.”

…

There was torture and then there was a dress fitting.

Until this moment, the closest I’d come to one in my life was the time I’d gotten a zipper stuck trying on a skirt and the fitting room attendant had needed to use scissors to cut me out of it. I’d thought that was embarrassing. I was wrong.

I’d bypassed embarrassment an hour ago, when I’d stepped onto the stool and discovered Gage had claimed a chair to watch. Having two fae seamstresses pinning and sighing and debating in front of him was the definition of humiliation. I’d ratcheted straight to kill-me-now-please when he picked up a folder from the table, flipped it open, and began to read from it out loud.

“Truancy by age eleven.”

My breath hitched.

He didn’t seem to notice as he continued rattling off a list of my sins. “Trespassing by thirteen. Shoplifting that year, too. Now this is interesting: at fourteen, possession of clover and assault. I knew you had it in you.”

“How did you get that?” I demanded in a hollow voice.

One side of his mouth crooked up. “I have my ways. I find it’s smart to look into anyone who threatens to kill you.” I fought a wave of nausea as he flipped ahead. “Such a colorful past, and you were worried about Channing.”

My colorful past was exactly why I was worried about Channing. I’d paid a high price for those mistakes. I refused to let the same thing happen to my brother.

“Those records are sealed,” I whispered.

“Yes, they are, but sealing them doesn’t erase them.” He tapped a finger on his glass. “But then at fifteen, nothing. It’s a remarkable turnaround.”

My stomach roiled as unwanted memories flashed in my mind, but I remained silent, keenly aware that he was watching me, assessing me. I tamped down my pain, swallowing it back to that dark place I kept it, and shrugged. “I guess I learned my lesson.”

He took a sip, then slowly licked the lingering liquor from his lips. “Nothing happened after that?”

“No.” I couldn’t bear to look at him.

“Really?” he pressed.

Why wouldn’t he let this go? Or had he found other records from the Department of Children & Family Services? Ones I never wanted anyone to see. But he only waited, so I shook my head, stars dancing in the corners of my vision.

“Just checking.” He dropped the file onto the table. The interrogation was over. I sagged with relief.

I picked at the gossamer fabric, earning a sharp rap on the knuckles from one of the women. “Why do I need this, anyway?”

“Because you’re stuck with me every night for…well, forever.” Gage swished the contents of his glass, sending the brown liquor swirling dangerously close to its rim. He was still on his first glass, as if he was savoring it as much as his little game.

“And I need ball gowns for this life sentence?” I groaned when he laughed.

“It’s a little late to ask questions now, isn’t it?” He stood and crossed the room in three long strides, pausing in front of where I was being measured and trussed.

I refused to look away despite the electric charge I felt under his dark gaze. “Then I won’t ask where I’m wearing all of these fancy dresses.”

“Good, because I’m tired of all your questions.”

“You could leave,” I said with mock sweetness.

He grimaced and lifted the glass to his full lips, finally downing the liquor in a single swallow. “But I’m enjoying your company so much.”

“Why are you here?” It wasn’t exactly riveting to sit through a dress fitting.

“I enjoy when they stick you with the pins.”

I plucked one out, earning an annoyed shriek from the seamstress, and brandished it at him. “Say that again, Gage.”

“Lach,” he corrected me, but I glowered at him. His low chuckle slid between my bones. “You need the gowns for parties.”

“Parties, Lachlan?”

That seemed to irk him more than calling him Gage, so I decided to stick with it.

“Did you think I wanted to dress you up like a pretty, pretty princess for my amusement?”

I peered down at the seamstress assessing my hemline and twiddled the pin. “Are these made of iron by any chance?”

She paled, but Lachlan snatched it from my fingers. “We’ve been over this. No murder allowed.”

“With all the riddles and torment, who has time for homicide?”

“Your wardrobe isn’t suitable for court events.” He pulled a flask out of seemingly thin air and refilled his glass. “And unfortunately, we have company coming again.”

I blinked at him, my bravado faltering. “Company?”

“I’m about to seal a deal with the Infernal Court that will help with my little clover problem.”

“Problem?” The surprises kept coming. “Not ruining enough lives?”

The glass paused on the way to his lips. “Is that what you think?” He shook his head. “Clover was never meant to ruin lives. It’s simply currency. A fleeting moment of happiness in exchange for money.”

“Drugs don’t work like that. You’re thinking of chocolate.”

“Clover worked like that,” he said grimly, “but the magic… It’s hard to explain. Something is wrong with it.”

“Trinity?”

He raised a brow.

I didn’t buy for a second that he actually cared, but if there was even a chance that he did… “That’s what we call it at the hospital. Because it’s not good or lucky or happy anymore. Not fun. Not safe. It’s not four-leafed clover anymore. It only looks like it.”

“Clever.” His lips pinched, but he finally sighed. “Until we figure out what’s gone wrong, I need to fill the gap.”

“Yes, because different drugs are the answer,” I said dryly. So much for him being part of the solution.

“Paint fae as the villains if you like, but humans are their own worst enemies. They crave happiness so desperately that they’ll do anything for a moment of it, even if it’s going to destroy them.” His eyes examined me briefly, something unreadable moving in them. “Getting clover off the streets won’t fill the hole it leaves behind. The Infernal Court has something that will.”

“So, you’re inviting everyone here to do a drug deal, and that requires formal wear?”

“It’s much more complicated.” He sighed and took another drink. “It requires ritual fuckery and pissing contests and other bullshit.”

I could tell what he thought about that.

The seamstress stood, casting one final weary look in my direction. “You can take that off. We’re finished for now.” Before I could thank her, she vanished along with her partner.

“I will never get used to that,” I muttered, gathering my skirt carefully to avoid the pins before stepping down.

“Nipping?” he asked.

“Why not just call it teleportation?” I replied, plucking the glass from his hands.

He tracked me as I took a drink, his mouth twisting into a bemused line. “We’ve been nipping for thousands of years, but, yes, by all means, let’s modernize it.”

I took another swig, appreciating the way the liquor burned down my throat, and changed the subject. “So, ritual fuckery and pissing contests? Did you put that on the invitation?”

“Two of our most beloved pastimes, but don’t worry, there will also be food and dancing.”

I traced the cuts and grooves of the crystal glass. Did he really expect me to flutter around in a ball gown, making small talk and hanging off his arm? “That sounds fun.”

“It isn’t.” He raked a hand through his hair, a tattoo winding its way around his knuckles. “However, securing an alliance with the Infernal Court is the only option we have.”

“But all the courts have to come?” I sipped again. “Why?”

“Some would say tradition, but it’s more superstition. When deals are struck between courts, especially shadow courts, everyone wants a say.”

I shook my head, still trying to understand. A deal sounded simple enough, but Lachlan seemed to be dancing around something bigger. “Because the shadow courts are bad?”

His nostrils flared. “I’m afraid it’s not that black and white,” he said tightly. “Although, the light courts are pretentious enough to think they’re better than us.”

“So why the differentiation? Why worry about the opinion of the light courts?”

“Fae magic exists on a spectrum of lightness and darkness. It has nothing to do with morality,” he added when he saw my confused expression. “Believe me, a Hallow Court fae is just as likely to hunt down someone who breaches his territory as we are. But each court’s magic operates differently. At the Nether Court, we draw off the magic that runs deep underground in cold, dark places. The Infernal Court draws off the molten power at the Earth’s core.”

“And the other courts? The Hallow Court and the…?”

“Astral Court,” he answered. “They draw off the energy above us. The sun. The stars. The Hallow Court draws off the air. If you ask them, their magic comes from heaven itself. That’s probably why they think they’re above us. In a way, they are. Quite literally.”

“I thought the fae hated humans. Why make me go?”

“I assume you don’t want to hang out here while everyone else is having a good time.”

I did, actually. But the way he said it suggested he would not be having a good time himself. “We could just take a few nights off.”

“That’s the unfortunate thing about bargains.” He took back his glass and poured another drink. “We’re both beholden to the terms of our arrangement, even on nights when I have other guests.”

“You can entertain anyone you want at night,” I said lightly, even though the words felt heavy on my lips. “I don’t own your nights.”

Was the shadow moving in his eyes magic or something else? “I’ll keep that in mind. Although, I doubt I’ll have time while I’m negotiating a new trade alliance for the next month.”

“Month?” I said faintly. “It sounds like you’ll be very busy. Maybe…”

“I have other reasons for wanting you there.” And there it was.

Reasons that had something to do with his motive to make the bargain with me in the first place? My pulse sped up, but I tried to look disinterested.

“I’m arranging a marriage.”

It was possibly the last thing I’d expected him to say. My mouth went utterly dry, and I had to force myself to respond. “Oh, and who are you marrying?”

“Me?” His head tipped back, and he howled. When he finally quieted, his eyes sparkled in a way I hadn’t seen before, but pain tainted it. “No one wants to marry me.”

My hand reached for his shoulder instinctively and squeezed. He looked down at it, and I withdrew it quickly. What the hell was that? “What happened to the women you claim are falling all over you?”

“You misunderstand me.” His voice was soft. “There are plenty who would marry me, but only for money or power or sex.”

I flushed. “Sex?”

The smirk was back. “Sex,” he repeated without further explanation, which was answer enough. “Thankfully, I cannot marry anyone to secure an alliance.”

I couldn’t keep my curiosity at bay. “What exactly is your type? Or is no one good enough for you?”

“Jealousy brings out your eyes.” He chuckled roughly at my grunt of displeasure. “To truly secure an alliance, I would have to marry a princess. Not just a courtier. There are only four fae princesses. Two of them are my sisters. The other two are heirs to their own courts.”

“Isn’t that ideal?” I had no idea why I cared. I told myself it was simply curiosity, but the rapidness of my heart suggested otherwise.

“Heirs don’t marry each other. Not anymore,” he added, eyes fading to some distant memory.

“You’re all princes and princess? There’s no king or queen?” I asked.

A shadow passed over his face. “Not for a long time.”

“So, you’re forbidden to marry another heir?”

He licked his lower lip so slowly that I found myself staring.

Not. Going. There.

“It’s not forbidden, exactly,” he continued. “But it would be discouraged.”

“Discouraged?”

He nodded. “Violently discouraged. The last time two heirs married, it ended poorly. The other courts would frown on it, and even if it were an option, Aurora and Titania are both from light courts.”

“I don’t get it. If you can’t marry to secure an alliance…” I was picking at a loose thread on my dress when it hit me. “You’re setting up one of your sisters.”

“Ciara loves London. She’ll fit right in at the Infernal Court.” But he didn’t smile. “She’ll be happy there.”

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that. I’d only spent a little time with Ciara. I didn’t know her well enough to decide if he was right. “She knows about this?”

“Yes, which leads me to the reason I need you around.” He lifted his eyes to mine. “She likes you.”

I snorted before I realized he was serious.

“She could use a friend.”

“Me?” I just stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

“Shop with her, hang out with her, keep her mind off it until it’s over.”

I sank into a chair near the window, wishing I could just swipe his flask. “You want me to distract her so you can force her to marry someone?”

I hadn’t signed up for this. I liked Ciara, despite the fact that she was a Gage, and even if I didn’t, this was the twenty-first century. I started to shake my head.

“She’s already agreed.” Was I imagining the regret coloring his tone? I had to be. “Marriage between courts is always political. Once she produces an heir…”

My eyebrows shot up, my stomach beginning to churn on her behalf.

“…she’ll be free to do as she pleases. She can stay in London or return here. It’s simply a transaction.”

A bargain, I realized. That’s how this world worked. But the desire the fae dealt in felt a lot more like desperation the more time I spent in the Otherworld.

“What about your other sister? Fiona?” I grasped for an excuse to get out of this. “Can’t she come hang out with her?”

“Fiona will not be a distraction. She probably won’t even come, since she already suffered through the Equinox. She avoids the court unless she’s required to attend.”

Gee, I wonder why? I bottled the comment up. “And you aren’t going to require her to be here for Ciara?”

“Ciara would probably beg her not to come, and I’d rather not add listening to their endless fighting to my plate.” He tilted his head. “That’s why I need you.”

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask.” I was definitely not the right person. I might even be the last person who should be asked, except, apparently, for Fiona. “Why me?”

“Because I trust you.”

This again. He must have a lot of enemies if he thought I was his best option.

“And because Ciara knows me best in the world, except maybe for Roark,” he continued.

“So?”

He arched a brow. “I assume you’re trying to figure out the answer to my riddle.”

What did he want with me? What did he get out of our bargain? The two questions I kept asking myself over and over again. I’d do almost anything to answer them. Almost.

“And you think that dangling the person who knows you best is enough for me to pretend to be your sister’s friend? That I’m willing to use someone like that?”

“I’m just trying to show it will be mutually beneficial.” He shoved a hand in his pocket, but not before I saw those twisting tattoos. Why did they move like that? Was it another clue to how he worked? “You can say no. It’s not part of our arrangement. I just… This will be hard for her.”

And he didn’t want it to be. That shouldn’t matter. Not since he was the one putting her in this terrible position. But I knew a thing or two about doing something terrible to your sibling when options felt limited. Was sending Channing to jail any better than what he was doing? I recalled how my brother had looked at me earlier. I bet he wouldn’t think so.

But there was one thing that didn’t make sense about this.

“Do you want me to find out what you’re after?” I asked. That’s what I really couldn’t understand. I knew that he was keeping something from me. This was about more than the bargain, but I couldn’t begin to guess what. The thought hollowed out my stomach. “Because if Ciara knows what you want out of this bargain, she might actually tell me.”

“Maybe I’m trying to play fair,” he offered.

I shook my head. That definitely wasn’t it.

“We all have to pay for our mistakes, princess.” His smile made my stomach sink like a stone plopped in a pond. “Ciara doesn’t know why I made the bargain with you. Not even Roark does.”

Did he even know why he’d made it? I was beginning to wonder. Maybe spending more time here would reveal what he was trying to hide.

“But when you fail to break our bargain, I don’t want you to accuse me of tricking you,” he said. “I’m giving you a fair shot.”

But was he really? Lachlan might not have been pure evil, but he was more than capable of getting his hands dirty.

“Fine.” I was going to regret this. Maybe he’d known I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation, but it was more than that, more than seeing my own actions in his. It was about Ciara. I knew what it was like to have no control over my life, to have others making decisions for me. Even if Ciara had agreed, I doubted she felt like she had a choice. Maybe I could show her that she did. Maybe I could help her find a way out, and she could do the same for me.

He relaxed, his shoulders softening, and I realized for the first time how rigid he’d been until this moment. As if he couldn’t have just forced me to do what he wanted. “I’ll need you to stay here for the next month, of course.”

“Here?” I blurted out. I hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Why do you think I informed the hospital that you’d accepted a private position?”

My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. Arrogant, selfish, lying fae prick. “Do you need medical care, or do I get the pleasure of seeing that you do?”

His lips twitched. “I thought we were on the same page about your homicidal urges.”

“I can inflict plenty of pain without killing you,” I promised.

He had the good sense to look concerned. “I need you here.”

“And I need electricity and data. You freed up my schedule.” A dubious claim, to be sure. “But I can’t just take a vacation to the Otherworld. I need to be reachable.”

He considered for a moment, and I braced myself for him to say no, for him to remind me that I had no one in my world who would even notice. The hospital didn’t need me. He’d seen to that. The closest thing I had to friendships was with my overworked colleagues, who would have been told about my new position by Garcia. And if Channing didn’t want to speak to me now, he’d be even less inclined when he was released into police custody.

“You make a good point,” he said, surprising me. “There’s an easy solution. You’ll move into the Avalon with us. I assume you can suffer staying in a five-star hotel.”

“Does it have internet?” I wasn’t agreeing to anything that easily. Not with his track record.

“And electricity and running water,” he said dryly.

I was about to cave when I processed the rest of what he’d said. “Wait. What do you mean, move into the Avalon with us?”

“We don’t live in the Otherworld.” He sounded amused at the idea. “No electricity, remember? It might kill Ciara and Roark if their phones died.”

My mouth fell open. “You don’t even live in the Otherworld?” I cursed under my breath. “But you made me sleep here.”

“I thought it was better if you remained in the Otherworld the first few nights. No data, remember?” He unscrewed the cap of his flask and refilled the glass. He handed it to me. “I didn’t need you calling the police on me.”

And I might have tried to do just that. “That’s what Roark started to say at breakfast.” I clutched the glass to my chest.

“He has a big mouth.”

I made a mental note of that. If Roark was the other person who knew him, I needed to get to know him as well.

Lachlan kissed like a god, but the devil ran through him. He might not be evil, but he was ruthless. If he was willing to use his favorite sister as leverage, it was only a matter of time before he turned our bargain to his advantage.

“So, I don’t have to stay in the Otherworld every night,” I said slowly.

He rubbed his temples like I was giving him a headache. “I just want you…nearby.”

And the Otherworld was nearby in his eyes. I’d spent the last two nights sleeping in a chair in front of the door, and the bastard hadn’t even been in the same world as me.

“The Avalon is directly over the Nether Court, which means it’s nearly as secure. We can draw from our magic more easily there,” he admitted, “and there’s your blessed electricity. Any more objections?”

At least the Avalon was in my world.

“What should I pack?” I asked, wringing my hands together.

“Obviously, your wardrobe is being arranged.” He gestured toward where I’d been poked for the last several hours. “Bring whatever you like, but feel free to leave your attitude at home.”

“I’m afraid that’s part of the package,” I said sweetly.

He pursed his lips, but he turned slightly toward the door. “I’ll leave you to change.”

I was still in my gossamer gown. Right. I pasted an irritated smile on my face. It was getting late, but I had no idea what to do with myself in his strange world. “And then what? Tea in the garden? A slumber party?”

“Are you inviting me to share your bed?” he purred, something feral prowling behind his beautiful, deadly face.

I flushed from head to toe, anger heating my blood. “First you kiss me without permission, and now you’re trying to sleep with me.” I crossed my arms over my chest, ignoring the tightness of my skin, my breasts. I needed a glamour against his sexy magic. “I thought I wasn’t your type.”

He glowered back at me. “Maybe not, but I’m willing to try new things.”

I gagged, even as my cheeks burned. “Thanks, but you aren’t my type.”

“Really?” He continued to chew on his lip, his bright eyes gleaming. “That’s odd, because you seem flustered.”

“Flustered?” I sputtered the word, backing up a few steps.

“Agitated. Nervous.” Each word was clipped and crisp as he stalked toward me. “Worked up.”

“I am not worked up.” My back hit the wall, and my heart shot into my throat as I realized we were right back where we’d been last night. So why did it feel so different now? “You have no effect on me.”

“I don’t?” He cocked an eyebrow and closed the space between us. Lachlan planted his hands on both sides of the wall, caging me in place. “What about my sexy magic?”

Fuck, why had I called him on that? Because something about the way he was looking at me expectantly, half amused and half arrogant as fuck, told me there was no magic at work.

“That was a joke.” Worst excuse ever.

“Why are you lying to me?” And he wasn’t buying it.

“I’m not lying,” I whispered.

A warm laugh rasped past his lips. His head fell forward, and a loose wisp of hair tickled across my face. Cedar flooded my nose, and I clamped my mouth shut, trying to hold my breath, trying to keep my body from responding to his nearness. He lifted his head, eyes sweeping from my feet upward and lingering on my hips, my breasts before continuing slowly to my neck, my lips, until his eyes found mine. He was so close I could count the gold flecks in his irises. If he got any closer…

“If I have no effect on you, why is your heart racing?” he murmured, tilting his head so that his mouth was angled over mine. He closed his eyes, and I forgot how to breathe. “I can hear it.”

“You scare me.” Not exactly a lie. He terrified me. Not only because of who he was—a Gage—but because of what he was. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. But deep down in a place I refused to look, I knew that wasn’t what scared me about him.

He remained silent, but he didn’t let me go. His hand ghosted along my throat, a single finger tracing softly down my collarbone. I moaned at the unexpected touch, and a slow grin stole across his mouth as he opened his eyes and stared into my lying face. “Yes, I can see I have no effect on you.” He leaned closer, his lips tickling my ear. “I’ll remember that I’m not your type.”

“Good.” The word came out breathless. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”

He flicked the pendant around my neck, chuckling when my hand shot up to find the broken necklace returned. “You’ll need that to reach me, but it won’t send you home at sunrise anymore. Someone will take you when you need to leave.”

I swallowed, managing a nod. My fingers rested on the pendant. That’s why he had touched me. He was simply putting the necklace back on. It wasn’t because he needed to feel his skin on mine. It wasn’t because my scent was clouding his thoughts and dissolving his common sense. It wasn’t because he wanted me.

“And, princess.” He stared at my lips, licking his own in a way that told me he knew how to use that mouth for more than arrogant banter. “Later tonight, when you’re in bed not thinking about me, feel free to touch that necklace while you touch yourself.”

I dropped my hand in disgust. “You think very highly of yourself.”

“I don’t think.” He grinned down at me. “I know.”

I glared at him. “Why would I think about you?”

But the damage was done, and even if my contempt had been believable, I knew those fae ears heard the truth in my speeding heart. He pushed away from the wall and straightened. “I’ll have a car take you to gather your things in the morning.”

That cleared my head. “Morning? I can’t—”

“Yes, you can.”

“I need to go by the hospital.” I stood my ground. “I left some things there.”

“The car will take you wherever you want to go. Take as long as you need.”

Spoken like someone who had all the time in the world. How old was he? I was too busy studying him to realize he was waiting for an answer.

“That is…acceptable.”

He didn’t look at me again, and I wondered if I’d imagined the tension between us or if it had all been another one of his games. He walked toward the door, pausing on his way out. “I’ll see you later.” His eyes strayed to my neck—to the pendant, I realized. I reached up and flicked it, hoping he somehow felt it, but he only laughed.

I watched him leave, but my heart didn’t slow. It kept racing for hours as I considered the challenge before me. My head was clearer with him gone. Maybe that was the real reason he wanted me to stay at the Avalon: so he could keep confusing me with his flirting. I had a month to figure him out, to figure out what he wanted from me—and then I had to make sure he could never get it. It was absurd but surely not impossible—if I believed what he’d said about playing fair.

The trouble was, that kiss told me we both might be better at playing dirty.