Chapter 6
“If it gets your attention,” he said, “I’ll flirt with anything.” ~ Rezer
The bell over the shop door jingled as the last customer slipped out, leaving the scent of old paper and candle smoke behind. Lisa flipped the sign to Closed, rubbing the back of her neck. The day had been long—too many tourists, too many questions she didn’t want to answer, and not enough coffee.
She was halfway through sweeping when she felt him before she saw him.
A prickle at the base of her spine. A shift in the air. The faintest trace of dark-elf magic—spice, smoke, and secrets. Lisa knew that kind of magic well. And the reminder of it caused her heart to squeeze just a tad, though not nearly as badly as it had once upon a time.
“Tell me you didn’t break in,” she said without turning. She knew he hadn’t because she realized she’d not flipped the lock on the door when she’d changed the sign. Smart Lisa, she mentally scolded.
Rezer’s voice slid across the room, lazy and amused. “Please. If I broke in, you wouldn’t have heard me.”
She rolled her eyes and turned to face him.
He lounged just inside the door like he owned the place, coat open, hands in his pockets, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
His dark hair fell around his face in that artful, arrogant way only elves pulled off without trying.
Rezer was either using glamour to look human, or he kept his hair much shorter than most elves.
Either way, he looked ridiculously tempting.
“You know,” she said, “most stalkers try to be discreet."
He lifted a brow. “I’m not most anything. I assure you, I’m quite unique as a stalker or otherwise.”
She snorted. “Humble, too.”
His head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Humble is overrated”
She snorted. “Well, apparently so is sanity because I keep letting you stay, which suggests questionable judgment.”
He smiled, slow and wicked. “Or excellent taste.”
Heat crept up her neck. Traitorous skin.
“You’re insufferable,” she muttered.
“And yet,” he said, glancing pointedly at the broom in her hand, “you’re still talking to me. That’s practically affection.”
Lisa braced the broom, fighting a smile. “Again, questionable judgment.”
Rezer chuckled then walked towards one of her shelves. “I’ll take what I can get. Even if I have to come and try not to outshine your lovely crystals while attempting to woo you. ” He ran a finger over one of said crystals.
She stared. “Are you . . . flirting with my merchandise?”
“If it gets your attention,” he said, “I’ll flirt with anything.”
Her cheeks warmed. “Do all dark elves have a death wish, or is it just you?”
“Mostly me.” He said, turning to fully face her. “But in my defense, your company is infinitely more interesting than the casino regulars I endured for decades.”
She paused, broom in hand. “You owned a casino, Rezer. That’s saying something.”
“True,” he conceded with a shrug. “But most gamblers only pretend to be dangerous. You?” His gaze dragged over her face. “You genuinely might stab me.”
“I wouldn’t stab you,” she said automatically.
He grinned. “But you’ve considered it.”
Lisa snorted and went back to sweeping. “Are you here to bother me or finally buy something?”
“First shop. It took me a while to decide on what I wanted.” He glanced around as if he was seriously considering his options.
“What did you decide on?” She couldn’t help her curiosity. Everything about him made her curious. It was getting damned annoying.
“One of everything,” he said so casually, as if he wasn’t offering to drop a couple thousand dollars or more.
“You’re crazy,” Lisa shook her head.
“Quite possibly,” he agreed. “But it’s your fault. You’ve driven me to this madness.” His voice dropped, the banter thinning. “I can’t stay away. I need to know you’re safe. I need to see you.”
That, yeah, that was dangerous. Because it wasn’t flirting now. It was concern, desire, and longing. All genuine, and much too tempting.
She swallowed hard. “I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that to people who know better,” he said quietly. “Syndra wouldn’t be in here all the time if you were fine.”
She froze, the broom bristles brushing the same spot on the floor.
“She actually hasn’t been in a few days, so I’d say she knows that I am actually fine.
” She was. Wasn’t she? Lisa considered it.
She could admit that she was lonely. Since Trik had taken over the Elfin realm and Lorsan was gone, things were calm.
Her daughter and son were moving on with their new roles in their lives, now a part of the supernatural world, and it was definitely a change being an empty nester. But, still, she was fine.
He took a step towards her, and she swore he growled.
“Rezer . . .”
After a very long pause, he didn’t push. He just walked past her, plucked the broom from her hands, and began to continue what she’d paused.
“You work all day, every day,” he said. “Let me make myself occasionally useful.”
“Occasionally?” she echoed.
He didn’t look up from his task as he responded.“I refuse to set unreasonable expectations.”
She barked out a laugh. “If you wanted to impress me, you’d have walked in with a latte.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, then said, “You wound me.”
“You annoy me.”
Silence settled, comfortable for the first time all day.
After a moment, she gestured toward the stairs. “I’m making tea. You can come up if you want.”
His brows lifted slightly, but he nodded. “Lead the way, sunshine.”
She paused on the first step. “If you call me that again, I will stab you.”
“Worth the risk,” he murmured.
Lisa’s apartment was warm, cluttered, and smelled faintly of cinnamon, lived-in in a way only a human’s space ever felt.
Once Oakley and Elora had decided to stay in the Elfin realm, Lisa no longer wanted an empty house to sit in.
So she’d renovated the space above her shop and made it into an apartment.
It was cozy and made her feel less lonely.
Rezer moved through it carefully, every step measured, like he might disturb something fragile just by existing too loudly. He didn’t belong here. Which only made the fact that he wanted to worse.
She put the kettle on. He leaned against the counter, watching her hands move with easy familiarity. “You look tired,” he said quietly.
“You look smug,” she shot back.
He huffed a soft laugh. “I’ve made it up to your apartment. I think I deserve smug.”
“Ass,” Lisa muttered.
The word warmed something in his chest. Dangerous, that.
When the tea was ready, she handed him a mug, motioned for him to take a seat, and curled into the armchair opposite his. He examined the cup like it might turn on him.
“It’s chamomile, not poison.”
“You say that,” he replied, sniffing it cautiously, “but you’d be surprised how often I’ve been handed drinks that weren’t supposed to be poisoned. And were.”
“That actually tracks.”
He took a careful sip. Blinked. Took another.
“I think every cup you make me is better than the last,” he admitted. “Very soothing.”
Her lips pursed. “Your surprise is offensive.”
“There’s very little in this world that soothes me anymore,” he said, softer now. “Forgive me if I notice when something does.” The words landed heavier than he meant them to.
She inhaled slowly. “Rezer . . . what’s going on with you?”
Something inside him tightened. It was time to make a decision.
Would he let Lisa in? What was the point of coming to her over and over, of having this burning need to be with her, if he wasn’t going to let her pass the walls he rarely let anyone through?
It was time to be honest with himself, at least about this.
He was tired of being alone. He wanted Lisa.
Right or wrong, he didn’t give a damn. He wanted her, and he would have her.
“I have dreams,” he said after a beat. “Or . . . something like dreams.”
She leaned forward. “Define ‘something.’”
He stared into the tea, watching steam curl.
“When I first left the casino and came back to the realm, they were just fragments. Shadows moving through fog. Voices speaking a language I know I should understand.” His jaw clenched.
“I’d wake up with the sound of it still in my head, but no words.
Just cold familiarity. Like I’d known it once. ”
“And now?” she asked.
“They’re sharper.” His fingers tightened around the mug. “Every time I cross between realms, they get worse. The shadows have faces now. The voices don’t whisper anymore, they call.” He swallowed. “Sometimes I wake up and my magic feels . . . drained. Like something fed on it while I slept.”
“That’s not normal,” Lisa said quietly.
He snorted. “I’m a centuries-old dark elf with a less than stellar reputation. Define normal.”
Lisa gave him an annoyed look. “You know what I mean.”
“Last night was different.” His voice dropped. “I saw a door. Stone. Light pouring from one side, shadow from the other. And behind it—” He stopped. “Something waiting. Like it knew me. Like it expected me to remember.”
“Did you?” she asked.
“No.” The word scraped out of him. “And that’s the worst part. I know that door isn’t new to me. But every time I reach for the memory, something snaps back. Like my mind’s on a leash.”
“You said this has been going on since you left the casino and that life behind?” she asked.
He nodded, then added. “Since I stopped hiding.” He looked at her. “At first, I thought it was just my past catching up.”
“And the more you travel between realms . . .” Her brow furrowed as she waited.
Rezer took a deep breath and then said, “The worse it gets.”
Her eyes softened. “And you keep coming here anyway.”
He didn’t drop her gaze as he practically growled. “Yes.”
“For what?” she asked.
As if she didn’t know. But, she wanted to play, he’d play. “For the tea,” he said instantly.