A Midsummer Night's Scream (The Dulcie O'Neil Series Book 7)

by H. P. Mallory

  I stared at him directly and boldly. “I’m sure it does.”

  His eyes centered on my lips for a few seconds before he smiled, his gaze finding mine again. “If only you’d allow me a conjugal visit.”

  “We are both well aware that’s never going to happen,” I scoffed, trying not to sound offended. I’d already prepared myself for the possibility that Jax would escalate his efforts to get underneath my skin. It was entirely up to me to maintain an air of cool confidence and remain completely in control, even if I didn’t feel it so much on the inside.

  “Is it so far-fetched?” he asked with a shrug. “I have been told that I’m a very handsome man.”

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” I answered with an unforgiving shrug.

  His smile broadened as he considered me with more interest. “And it probably goes without saying that I’ve had more than my fair share of eager women to warm my bed.”

  “I’m not here to debate whether or not you’re attractive or discuss how many bed partners you’ve had,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at him, “because I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care?” he asked, pretending to be taken aback.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Then why are you here, Dulcie O’Neil?” he asked.

  I felt my heart catch as soon as I realized he knew my full name. There was no doubt now that he was bent on trying to throw me off. This shocker was just another example of that.

  “I’m here to offer you a deal,” I continued without a hitch.

  “Really? I’m listening.”

  “I expect you’re sick to death of whatever crap they’ve been feeding you here,” I started, studying him in a detached sort of way.

  “I would eagerly agree with that statement.”

  “If you give me at least some of the answers I’m looking for, I’ll spring for your lunch. You can order whatever you want.”

  He smiled, flashing his brilliantly white teeth. They contrasted nicely with his tanned skin and the brown stubble that was beginning to shadow his cheeks, jaw, and chin. Yes, he was decidedly attractive. No one could argue that point, not even me. Of course, it wasn’t like I was really focused on Jax’s looks though. I’d left my hormones at the door, remember?

  “Whatever I want, huh?” he asked, eyeing me suggestively again. His gaze descended from my face, settling on my bust, before landing on the apex of my thighs, where he stared at me unabashedly. I held my stance and didn’t flinch or wither. I’d prepared myself for this.

  “Whatever you can eat,” I amended.

  He cocked his head to the side before his eyes returned to my face. “I have to admit, I’m quite partial to the taste of beautiful, young women,” he started.

  “And you can cut that crap out right now,” I interrupted in an icy tone. “I’m not interested.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d accuse you of being a lesbian.” Then he cocked his head to the side and was quiet for a few seconds. “Although I have to admit, the idea of you with another woman might be exactly what I’m going to think about tonight, during my…alone time.”

  “Whatever I am is none of your business,” I announced, choosing to ignore his latter comment.

  “What if I intend to make it my business?”

  “Then you’re headed for a grand disappointment,” I fired back. I felt the need to cross my arms over my chest as soon as his gaze returned to my breasts. But I resisted that urge and continued to stand there as if I were completely at ease, despite his scrutiny.

  “Disappointed, huh?” he asked. Acting suddenly dejected, his shoulders slumped and he jutted out his lower lip. “And just when I was starting to get very excited about answering any, and maybe all, of your questions.”

  “I’m not on the bargaining table,” I said as decisively as I could, “but lunch is. It’s your choice to take it or leave it.”

  “What a shame,” he responded while shaking his head and staring at me blankly for a few seconds. He seemed to be trying to determine if I was bluffing. I had to wonder if that was just another Loki trait—having the ability to see through anyone’s poker face. If it were, it wouldn’t have surprised me because it wasn’t as though I had a catalog of each and every Loki ability. The longer I knew Knight, the more surprised I was at the extent of his talents.

  “Call it whatever you will,” I answered, “but my offer won’t last forever; and I’m already growing very tired of playing your games.”

  “And to think how motivated I was to give you exactly the information you sought,” he said, shaking his head like it was a big shame. All the while, though, he continued to stare at me as if he could see through me, to my soul. “It has been a while since I was with a woman; and you happen to be just my type.”

  “I should say I’m touched,” I replied, shaking my head as a victorious smile became too hard to contain. “But I’m not.”

  “You’re a tough one,” he shrugged. Smiling as widely as I was, he continued, “But the question now is how much the information you’re after is worth to you, and what you’re willing to trade for it.”

  “I’m not willing to sell myself,” I answered matter-of-factly. “As you can probably imagine, I’m not into breaking the law.”

  “You wouldn’t be selling yourself, baby,” he continued, his smile in full enticement mode. “We wouldn’t be bartering for money.”

  His smarmy reply suggested exactly what we would be bartering. Even though his forwardness surprised me, I didn’t let on. “Lunch or not?” I asked, taking a few steps back, my signal that I was tired of his games. “I’m a very busy woman.”

  “We both know that’s not true,” he argued with a hearty chuckle. “I’ve seen the goings on around here, which equate to zilch.” He glanced to his left and his smile widened. “The only criminals you’ve got in here are those two wolves; and they’ve been here since before my arrival.” Glancing to his right, at the suspended cage where the pixie lay sound asleep and snoring on her cot, he added, “Oh yeah, and the gnat in the cage.”

  “Lunch or not?” I repeated, trying not to sound flustered even though that’s exactly what I was becoming.

  “I’d say I’m the most exciting thing that’s happened here in a very long time,” he continued, grinning like a fool. “And I also could be the most exciting thing to happen to you, if you’d let me.”

  “Lunch or not?”

  “You will eventually give in, you realize that?”

  “No, I don’t,” I answered and shook my head. “And I’m about to tell Ginger, the cook here at Headquarters, to go ahead and count you in for today’s lunch. My patience is fading fast.”

  “You love to play hardball with me, don’t you?”

  “I don’t want to play anything with you,” I responded, feeling the truth of my words all the way to my toes. “All I want from you are answers to my questions.”

  “I see,” he said, that irritating smile of his still present and accounted for. “Well, would you like to know what I want from you?”

  “No,” I answered immediately. “All I want to know is whether or not I should order you lunch.”

  “You can order me lunch, but only if you eat yours with me.”

  I thought about it for a few seconds before I agreed, figuring this wasn’t too much to ask. “Deal. What are we having?”

  “I’m quite partial to Italian,” he answered without pause. “An Italian submarine sandwich would hit the spot for me. Can’t find a good one in the Netherworld, not for the life of me.”

  “Done,” I answered as I whipped out my cell phone and called Mama Nona’s. It was my favorite Italian delivery place and only a couple of miles away. I ordered Jax’s sandwich and a plate of spaghetti and meatballs for myself before replacing my phone in my pocket. “Twenty minutes,” I said with a smile.

  “They’re quick,” he answered as his gaze landed on me again. “How do you stay so trim, eating pasta? You know it’s crap, right? Wasted c
alories.”

  “And your sandwich isn’t?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a man and, hence, I don’t have to watch what I eat.”

  “Charming,” I replied with a heartfelt frown. “Let’s see if you still feel the same way in a few years when your waistline has expanded so much, you can no longer see your toes.”

  “Guess, we will see, babe, but somehow I’m not too worried about that,” he said as he smiled at me. “So does our social hour, er, our social twenty minutes, begin now, before the food gets here?”

  “Is there any chance you’re willing to talk business before the food comes?”

  He shook his head. “That outlook is not favorable.”

  “Then I guess not,” I answered with a sigh. My raised brow suggested I wasn’t amused. Not that he let it sway him, because he didn’t.

  “So what would you like to talk about while we wait?” he asked, his contained excitement making him almost sound boyish.

  “Are you scared?” I asked without thinking. I wasn’t even sure why the question popped out of my mouth but it seemed to have a life of its own.

  “Scared?” he asked, looking surprised that I would ask him this in the first place. “What do you mean? Scared of what?”

  I shrugged, figuring my question wasn’t that mystifying. “Are you scared that someone will come after you? Or are you scared about being found?”

  “Of course I’m scared,” he replied with emphasis. “Being scared all these years is what’s kept me alive.” He studied me for a few seconds before he opened his mouth again. “Anyone in my business who tells you otherwise is lying. Or they’re already dead.”

  “Good answer,” I nodded, slightly admiring his ability to admit as much. There was more to his compliance, however, than met the eye. I didn’t believe he wanted to get out of the thug life, although I also didn’t know what reasons motivated him to say he wanted to. That was one mystery I intended to solve.

  “Next question.”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen what happens to rats who squeal, doesn’t that make you nervous about doing what you did?” I tried to sound offhand, or like I was just making conversation. However, his answer to my question would tell me a lot.

  He nodded, but didn’t seem overly concerned. “I know what awaits me if I’m caught.”

  “And what awaits you?” I asked, sounding surprised.

  “I’ve slit more than my fair share of ‘Netherworldian neckties’ over the years,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Netherworldian neckties?” I repeated, knowing exactly what they were. In this case, though, I thought it better to act like an inexperienced ANC Regulator. Letting Jax think he could educate me was a good way to play him.

  “Inform the ANC about any of our practices, and while you’re still alive, your throat gets sliced open and your tongue is pulled out through it. You choke to death on the very same tongue that broke our trust,” he described in a blasé tone and then nodded, even smiling at me in a sad sort of way, indicating he was well aware of the fate that awaited him.

  “How poetic,” I managed. “Better hope to hell we don’t decide to give you back.”

  His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then he apparently realized I was kidding. “Good one.”

  I shrugged and cocked my head to the side as if to say it wasn’t so far-fetched. “All I can say is don’t piss me off.”

  “You are the last person I would intentionally piss off,” he said as his eyes began roving my body with no shame…again.

  I frowned and sighed in obvious exasperation. “And just when I thought we’d moved on from that subject.”

  He laughed and held his hands up. “Hey, I warned you that it’s been a while since I’ve had a woman. You can’t blame a man for looking.” His eyes settled on my bust again. “Are they real?”

  “Of course they’re real!” I responded before thinking better of it.

  He just chuckled as he nodded. “They looked real although it is a bit hard to tell without feeling them. I’ve come across many a woman who swears her breasts are real but as soon as I touch them I can tell she’s lying through her teeth.”

  “I can usually tell just by looking at them,” I argued, frowning at him.

  He eyed me narrowly, his smile almost contagious. “I’m feeling that lesbian overture from you again.”

  “You know I’m not a lesbian,” I threw back at him. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

  “That means little to nothing.”

  “Really?” I asked with a laugh and a shake of my head.

  “Sure. I think you’re just confused. You think you want a man but really, you can’t stop thinking about the softness of a woman, the way she smells, the way she feels.”

  “Don’t confuse your daydreams with mine.”

  He shook his head as his eyes raked me from top to bottom again. “Nothing to confuse. You, my hot little captor, embody every one of my dreams, waking or not.”

  “You know, as a fairy, I could always magic myself into something you wouldn’t find very attractive—like a troll, or a leviathan, or something equally as charming,” I said. “Or you could behave yourself and make this easier on both of us. The choice is yours.”

  His smile dropped. “Well, when you put it that way …”

  “As long as we understand each other,” I said with a wide grin, pleased to finally voice a threat that seemed to resonate with him.

  “We do,” he answered in a defeated tone.

  “Good,” I replied just as Elsie popped her head around the corner of the hallway.

  “You ordered some food, Dulce?” she asked.

  I stood up and started for the hallway. She met me halfway and handed me the brown bag, which smelled like heaven. Luckily for me, I had an active account at Mama Nona’s. I paid them monthly for the privilege. Thanking Elsie, I turned to Jax, who continued ogling me lasciviously. Or maybe it was the food making his mouth water. I couldn’t be sure.

  Taking out his sandwich, which looked like an aluminum-foil wrapped torpedo and was roughly the same size, I attempted to pass it to him through the bars. He had a tough time accepting it, though, especially since his hands were still cuffed together. He glanced over at me with true concern in his eyes.

  “It’s next to impossible for me to eat with these things on,” he said while holding up his wrists, as if I didn’t know what he was talking about. “What do you think about springing me?”

  I immediately frowned.

  “It’s not like I’ll be able to do much harm since I’m still stuck in here,” he finished as he nodded toward the bars that kept him hostage.

  I studied him for a few seconds, silently debating whether or not to take his cuffs off. In the end, I figured he had a good point—he was still behind bars, so what difference could it make? Without another word, I held my hand out and made a fist. Then I shook my hand a few times until I felt a mound of dust in my palm. When I opened my hand, the ethereal particles glittered in the dim light. I threw them at Jax, bathing him in the opalescent specks and closed my eyes. I imagined his cuffs breaking apart and dropping onto the floor below him.

  “Well done,” he said.

  I opened my eyes and saw the cuffs lying on the ground, directly in front of him. Then I held my hand out and made a sweeping motion toward myself. The cuffs responded by scuttling over the cement floor like some bizarre looking crab. Then they launched themselves between the prison bars and landed in a heap beside my feet.

  “Don’t say I never did anything nice for you,” I said with a smile as he reached for the sandwich again and I handed it to him.

  “Have you been to the Netherworld?” he asked while unwrapping the foil from around the sandwich. He wasted no time in proceeding to take a huge bite.

  “Careful you don’t swallow a finger,” I reprimanded him, before thinking about the question he’d just asked me. Although I didn’t want to give him any personal information, I knew that wouldn’t get me very
far. And, really, this question seemed innocent enough to answer. “Yes.”

  He nodded and swallowed an enormous mouthful before talking again. “Then you know what happens to fairies in the Netherworld?”

  “Do you mean the wings bit, or the sexual crack bit?”

  Upon undertaking the misfortune of traveling through the Netherworld, I’d immediately sprouted wings. They were more of a nuisance than anything else and randomly started flapping at the most inopportune moments. I had zero control over them. And the sexual crack part? In the Netherworld, fairies can make any male creature completely lose his mind in favor of his libido. I’d had a hell of a time keeping male creatures away from me, or getting anything with a phallus to take me seriously.

  “The sexual crack bit,” Jax answered with a deep chuckle that I immediately found charming against my better judgement.

  “Yes, I’m well aware of that already,” I muttered, “but thanks for reminding me.”

  “Luckily for you, we aren’t in the Netherworld,” he continued, shrugging in an offhand manner. “I doubt seriously whether I’d be able to control myself if we were.”

  “Lucky us then.”

  He nodded. “How long have you been working for the ANC?”

  That was the question I kept hoping he’d ask me. My answer could either help significantly, or sadly hinder my relationship with him. “Not long,” I said, hoping to hell he couldn’t see the lie in my face. I assumed it was a safe lie since I’d never come across him before, even though I’d heard about his organization. Besides, I was such a small fish, no one in the Netherworld would have any reason to know about me. Well, no one who mattered anyway. “I was just hired on pretty recently actually.”

  “So you’re a newbie and, hence, no one trusts you with a prison full of inmates so they sent you here?” he asked, motioning at all the empty cells surrounding us. He took another huge bite and polished off the remainder of his sandwich. I viewed my pasta and noticed I still had a long way to go.