Chapter 6 #3
That made it my problem, because she wouldn’t have been released if it hadn’t been for my debts. Fine. I’d figure out how to take care of her. I’d start by reporting her to Lieutenant Sato as soon as I got the chance. I’d have to bake her something nice again.
I glared up at the devil, who was staring at me with open fascination. Hadn’t he ever seen a fairy-goblin eat? Considering how many fairy-goblins there were…no, he hadn’t. It wasn’t pretty. “What happened to my strawberry shortcake?”
He raised a brow. “I ate it. It was filled with gratitude and respect. Did you intend it for someone else, perchance?”
I hmphed. “At least you didn’t stick it in a weird vault where you keep all your deal mementos. Wasting cake is a crime.”
His devilish smile was delighted. “I’m perfectly comfortable being a criminal.”
I glowered. “I know. So, tell me about the Lady of the Wild Woods. Where can she be found? What are the signs of her bloodthirsty activities?”
He blinked at me then narrowed his eyes. “Absolutely not.”
“If you don’t want to be bothered then I do.”
“You don’t. You want to get back to working yourself to death at the bakery while you spoil the rabbit with unceasing indulgence.”
“Unceasing indulgence? I gave him lettuce from my salad. What do you expect me to feed him?”
“Rabbit food.”
“I don’t have any rabbit food. I’ll have to go to a pet store at some point, but in the meantime…” I glowered at him and didn’t mention the cursed macarons. “Anyway, what signs should the police be looking for?”
He leaned forward to squint at me. “You’re determined to be involved in matters that are none of your business? You don’t have time for nonsense.”
“Murderers released on the street are the kind of nonsense everyone has time for.”
He sighed heavily and leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. “We’ll go to the police station tomorrow before dinner.” He raised a hand while I started to feel victorious. “But tonight, you will sleep for eight hours.”
“Four.”
“Six.”
“Five-and-a-half.”
He nodded. “Done.” He smiled like he’d won then stabbed his knife into a ripe, delicious strawberry. So pretty. The strawberry, not him and his pink lips parted as he placed the berry on his pink tongue while his eyes danced mischievously. Obviously not him.
I ignored him and focused on eating, feeding the rabbit.
Pavlov was the wrong name. It reminded me of the devil and how delicious he looked.
I needed something fluffy and white. Snowball?
That wouldn’t sound right in the bakery.
Macaroons were coconut balls, kind of whitish, which was the rabbit with all the pink splotches between his hair tufts.
At least the sores weren’t as bad. I needed to reapply the ointment before I went to sleep.
Would I have to sleep in the rabbit’s mistress’s old bed?
I would. Oh well. Tomorrow would be a good day, full of work and duty. At least the devil was the kind of master who liked to keep his objects healthy.
I glanced up, and he was studying me again. “It’s rude to stare,” I said.
He smiled. “Yes. It’s also rude to kick people.”
I hmphed and kept eating until I’d polished off every last dish.
I’d gain way too much weight if I kept eating like this, but I’d worry about that later.
My natural inclination was toward stocky, but you got cited at work if you weren’t the perfect ethereal fairy ideal.
Not that I had to worry about my job at the department store anymore.
A baker should be a little plump, just to prove that the food was good, right?
I’d never have to stand on a scale in front of all the other workers again. That was worth celebrating.
I slid off the bench and stood. “I’m ready to sleep. Also, do you think it’s better to have a plump baker or a thin one?”
He frowned. “I think a happy baker is best.”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “You’re not helpful.”
“Beg your pardon. I do aim to be helpful.” He stood and looked down at me, deeply into my eyes.
“Your plumpness or thinness isn’t going to change how utterly desirable you are or how well you make pastry.
You are beautiful, charming, and talented.
I can still taste the strawberry shortcake on my tongue.
It’s addictive. You’re addictive. Make sure you don’t let the rabbit bite you again. ” He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
For a second, his words stunned me before I rolled my eyes and put my hand in his, ignoring the slight shock at the connection.
He was full of lies and flattery. It’s what devils were.
I absolutely couldn’t take it personally.
And this feeling was helped by the fact that he’d fed me, and like Rawley said, that would soften anyone’s feelings.
It had nothing to do with the way he’d said I was addictive and utterly desirable, the way he’d looked at me like he really saw me and not just the fairy who wasn’t thin and magical enough, or the goblin who wasn’t fierce and confident enough.
I didn’t need to be seen.
Except that I was the face of The Rabbit Hole.
Oh bother.