by Jessica Sims
She’d been fired last month for dating vampires, but she’d had serious reasons for wanting to date the fanged persuasion. She’d been dying from an extremely rare, fatal disease, and the only way Marie could see to get around it was to be turned undead. Luckily, those issues had been solved by Josh Russell, a big, hunky were-cougar who’d saved her from her disease and had turned her into a nice, healthy were-cougar. Now Marie was working for Beau Russell, the leader of the Paranormal Alliance.
Savannah Russell, Beau’s cousin, had taken Marie’s place on the night shift. She was sweet and quiet, nothing like my witty, outspoken Marie. I gestured at Marie’s former desk. “Speaking of, is Savannah okay?”
“She’s got the barfs again,” Sara told me. “Called and said she’d be in late.”
I nodded and tossed another spoonful of sugar into my coffee. “I’ll hold down the fort.”
“You sure? I can stay awhile if things are too busy.”
I made a shooing motion, then picked up my coffee. “I’ll be fine. You two lovebirds go have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I gave them an outrageous wink.
Sara giggled, and her mate—a big, burly were-bear—flushed bright red. So adorable. With a wave, they headed out.
I was alone.
Alone was boring, and it made for a long night, especially when the phones were quiet. And it wasn’t a full moon, or a Friday night, or anything else that would cause the agency to be busy, which meant I was alone with my thoughts.
I hated being alone with my thoughts.
I decided to text Marie. What’s up, chica?
It took a moment for her to respond.
Just left work. Beau and the wolf packs are still meeting all the time. Such a mess! Josh is taking me out to dinner tonight to make up for it, though.
Maybe you’ll get lucky, I teased.
I’ll be mad if I don’t! She punctuated it with a smiley face, then added, Gotta run. TTYL.
I sighed, trying not to feel jealous of my friend, and stared around the empty office. I fired up the coffeemaker again. If I wasn’t going to have anyone to talk to, I was going to need some major caffeine. I loved caffeine—it made me jittery and awake. And I adored jittery, because when I relaxed, it was easier to lose control of the monster side if a male client touched me. If I was cranked up on caffeine, it was harder to relax and get aroused.
So, coffee? My friend. I used caffeine pills, NoDoz, Red Bull, energy drinks, and anything else that could keep me hopped up, but coffee was my favorite vice.
While the pot gurgled, I sipped the sugary concoction I’d made before and headed back to my desk to tackle my to-do pile. At the top of my list was upcoming activities for our singles. We’d had a wine tasting last week, but no one had shown up except vampires. Big strikeout; no one wanted to date vampires. Well, except Marie.
Things were usually complicated around here. I still had bad memories about the time I’d set up a nice werewolf guy with an anxious were-bobcat lady. First rule of a supernatural dating agency—don’t mix cats and dogs.
I sighed, thinking of Josh and Marie. I wanted a big hunky were-cougar boyfriend, too. I’d take were-anything, actually. I’d even take human. Nothing wrong with a little normal in a guy. Unfortunately, none of my dates went past the first one, thanks to my monster.
No sense in dwelling on it; I’d only end up in a bad mood. I turned on some upbeat music and was soon singing along and dancing around the office, my blond pigtails whipping about my head as I boogied between my desk and the copier in the back room, creating flyers and printing them for an upcoming mixer.
The cowbell on the front door clanged, and I called, “Be right there!”
Probably Savannah. Several months pregnant, the poor girl still had morning sickness, afternoon sickness, night sickness, and anytime-she-smelled-anything-at-all-sickness.
But when I entered the main part of the office, I stopped in my tracks, surprised to see two men. One was a nearly seven-foot-tall, muscle-bound guy with weird hair and weirder clothing that looked like something out of a historical movie.
And the other was . . . well, he looked like Ryan Gosling in a leisure suit, but the odds of a movie star showing up here were slim to none. Which meant he was a fae prince.The fae occasionally used our service; my guess was that they got bored with finding their own dates. They were weird customers, though. They liked to use their glamours to take on the appearance of famous actors, and they always had a bit of a chip on their shoulders when it came to humans. Like we should bow down and kiss their feet in gratitude for being able to serve them.
I usually let the others deal with fae, since I found their attitude boorish, but tonight it fell to me to be the welcoming committee. “Hi, there,” I said in a chipper voice, beaming a smile at the two men as I turned the radio down. “Welcome to Midnight Liaisons.”
The blond, smaller man—the prince—studied me and gave me a slow, pleased smile. “Well, aren’t you the cutest thing?”
Ugh. “Thank you! How can I help you gentlemen? Do you have profiles set up in the system? One of you is clearly fae and the other . . .” I stared at the big bruiser. You usually couldn’t tell just by looking at someone, and a fair number of Alliance guys were big and scary. But this guy . . . this guy exuded danger and wildness. I couldn’t help but draw back a little at the sight of him.
“I’m here to meet someone,” the prince said.
“Oh?” I pulled up my datebook and didn’t see anything marked. “Did you arrange something with one of the other dating specialists?”
“Actually, you’re the person I came here to see.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, but I kept it cool. “Oh?”
He moved closer, that delighted smile still on his face, and circled around me. “Perfect. Just perfect.”
“Thank you,” I said, “but I’m afraid I don’t recognize you as one of my clients.”
His lip curled. “As if I’d use your cute little service.”
“I don’t understand why you’re here, then?” I glanced at the big bruiser behind him, but the man said nothing. The more I looked at him, the scarier he seemed. I decided to avoid looking at him after that.
“Why, I’m here to see you, precious.” The fae’s tone became sweet and soothing. “I wanted to see how my little prize was coming along, and it looks like you’re almost ripe for the picking.”
“Ripe . . . for the picking?” Who was this guy? “Excuse me?”
“Come now, my little changeling. Don’t act so surprised.” He reached out and stroked my arm.
Scales prickled to the surface, and I jerked away from him, wide-eyed with shock. “How . . . how did you know?” I’d never told anyone I was a changeling. Marie knew that I transformed into something yucky (she’d caught me mid-act once), but she never asked questions and I never volunteered answers.
Yet this man knew instantly what I was.
He gave me a gorgeous smile. “Why, how do you think you got here? Into the earth realm?”
Earth . . . realm? Huh?
Just then, the door banged open and Savannah rushed in. “I am so sorry, Ryder,” she began, her cheeks flushed. “I’m late, but I’m here now.”
“No problem,” I said, gesturing to my two “clients” to wait for me as I stepped over to Savannah’s desk. I was a master of fakery, so I pulled her chair out for her, acting as if nothing was wrong. “You take a seat. I’m with a couple of clients, but once I’m done, we’ll review tonight’s dating logs, okay?”
She gave me a grateful look and dropped into her seat. “Okay.” It was only eight at night, and she already looked exhausted. Rough pregnancy and a new job to boot, but she never complained.
“Sara left the mail for you; why don’t you handle that for now?” I said as I picked up the rubber-banded bundle on the corner of her desk and
held it out to her. “And drink some water.”
“I will,” she said meekly, taking the mail from me.
“Now,” I said brightly as I turned to the fae prince and his scary friend. “Why don’t we go to a conference room and continue our conversation?”
“But of course,” the prince said in that silky-smooth manner.
I ushered them into a conference room and shut the door, then turned on a CD of classical music. The big lug stared straight ahead, but the prince raised an eyebrow at me. “Mood music?”
“It ensures privacy for our clients,” I told him. “Several of our species have very keen hearing.”
“Of course.”
“Who are you?” I asked as he sat at the round table. The guard—I’d come to think of him that way—thumped into the chair next to him. I sat across from both, not trusting them. This man knew who and what I was. Surely he’d have more answers for me.
“Yes, I suppose you would ask that, wouldn’t you?” He leaned back lazily in his chair, looking for all the world as if he’d been invited to the most boring party on earth and was only deigning to be here because he had to. “My name is Finian.” He studied his long fingers and perfect nails. “No last name. That’s a human affectation, and I most certainly am not human.” He smiled at me, and his eyes gleamed iridescent for a brief moment, shining all colors of the rainbow, like a soap bubble.
I was fascinated despite myself, unable to look away. “Who’s your friend?”
Finian’s gaze flicked to the hulking man at his side. “He is unimportant.”
Unimportant said nothing, which was no surprise.
“How did you know what I was?” I asked. “How could you tell?” I’d been around shifters for a year and had seen fae on several occasions, and no one had ever figured out my secret. My guess was that I smelled just as human as everyone else.
“Why, I could tell because you are mine.”
I stilled. “Yours?”
“Yes. I was there at your birth. I saw you bred, saw you born, and brought you here so you could grow up.”
Saw me . . . bred. My jaw dropped a little. “Bred?”
“Yes. Your father was put out to stud, and we brought in your mother—a sweet little filly if ever there was one—and voila, magic happened. You were created.”
A sweet little filly, huh? That was creepy. Maybe it was a fae thing. “So where are my parents now?”
“They’re not parents, my darling changeling. Parents imply child rearing. They were simply the vessels in which you were created.” He looked at me fondly. “They bred an excellent specimen, if I’m any judge. And I am.”
Suddenly feeling cold, I pulled my baby pink cardigan closer. “You’re talking about me like I’m some sort of prize poodle.”
Finian’s smile grew broader. “That’s exactly what you are, my dear. Think of yourself as a prize poodle for the Otherworld.”
“Otherworld?” I echoed.
“The fae realm.”
I shook my head, trying to absorb all of this. “I don’t understand. If I’m fae, why bring me here?”
“You’re not fae.” He looked offended at the thought. “You’re a changeling. And your kind has a very high mortality rate in the fae realm, I’m afraid. Lots of creatures prey on your kind. You’re very showy and beautiful in your natural form, but with very few defenses. Hence, you’re here for your protection.” Finian gestured at me munificently. “You’re welcome.”
I was still staring at him, trying to absorb all of this. I was this man’s . . . poodle? I was born in the fae realm? My parents were . . . stud dogs? Or horses? Of a sort? “I still don’t understand.”
“Well, your kind wasn’t bred for its intelligence.” Finian gave me a dismissive look. “Exactly what part is so hard?”
I spread my hands, trying to think of where to start. I glanced around nervously to make sure no one was listening in to our conversation. Then, I leaned in and spoke. “I’m not even sure that I am your changeling. My other form isn’t beautiful at all. Quite the opposite.”
He tilted his head. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my pet. And my changeling has a mark on her upper thigh in the shape of a sun with a Celtic eternity knot in the center.”
I stilled, my eyes going wide. I had that mark on the inside of my thigh. No one had ever been able to give me a straight answer as to why a baby girl had been branded right after birth, and my adoptive parents had given me the option to have it removed when I hit adulthood. I’d elected to keep it because I liked its uniqueness.
I’d never told anyone about it, either.
“Shall I get you to show me?” Finian asked. “My friend here can hold you down while I check to ensure that you’re the one I seek.”
I gave a wide-eyed look at the giant at his side. “No, I’m good, thanks. I know the mark.”
“I thought so. Your twenty-fifth birthday is in a month, correct?”
“If you know about the birthmark, you should know when my birthday is,” I told him, not wanting to volunteer any more details. Part of me wanted to run away from this bizarre conversation, but I needed information. This man seemed to have lots of it.
“Don’t be prickly, my pet. It’s not becoming.”
I gritted my teeth behind my smile. I really, really wasn’t a fan of the way he kept calling me “my pet” after referring to me as a poodle. “I don’t understand why you’re here, after so long.”
“It’s very simple. Changelings take time to ripen,” Finian said, steepling his fingers. “At twenty-five, you’ll be ideal for breeding, which means it’s safe to take you back to the fae realm. I have the perfect stud lined up.”
My eyes widened with horror. “You’re going to breed me?”
“Of course, precious.” He gave me a pleasant look. “Changelings go for quite a sum on the Goblin Market these days, and my family’s had a bit of financial difficulty in the past millennia. Your offspring will take care of that problem.”
I swallowed, feeling sick. This . . . wasn’t happening. It wasn’t. This guy couldn’t just own me and treat me like a prize dog. There had to be a way out of this.
“What if I say no? What if I don’t want to go with you?”
“Don’t make this difficult,” Finian told me in a condescending voice. “Hugh here has plenty of friends that are ready to ensure that you come with me. I’d hate to have to collar you.”
Hugh’s expression didn’t change. I shuddered.
“Besides,” Finian said in a cheerful voice, “once you hit your twenty-fifth birthday unbesmirched, it’s going to become impossible for you to hold your beast side at bay. Your mating frenzy is going to take over, and then you’ll be begging me to take you away.”
My hand went to my throat. It sounded horrifying. “What if I pay you? Can I pay you for my freedom?”
He gave me a pitying look. “Oh, pet. Fae don’t deal in human currency. Trust me when I say that what we want, you can’t afford. I’m afraid that’s just the way it is. And even if you could buy your freedom, it wouldn’t help you contain your beast. Only breeding you will fix that.”
I felt like vomiting. “But . . . but I have a month. I’m not twenty-five yet.”
“Yes. This is a tricky period, which is why I’m here today. Since you’re coming up on your fertile time, you’re going to start throwing out pheromones everywhere. It’s going to be impossible for you to hide your identity.”
“Like when the shifters go into heat?” God, this just got worse and worse.
“No. Right now you stink of human.” He gave me a polite smile and lifted a tiny flower from his lapel, pressing it under his nose as if to ward off my stench. “But that smell will change rapidly over the next few weeks, and it’ll be obvious to any fae what you are. You’re going to need protection so someone doesn’t steal you out from unde
r my nose.” He reached over and patted his companion’s burly arm. “Which is why Hugh is here.”
Aghast, I looked over at Hugh and stared up fully into his face for the first time.
He was one scary fucker.
Hard all over, he reminded me of Sara’s mate in his size and strength. But where Ramsey had handsome features and kind eyes when he looked at Sara, this man had not an ounce of softness in him. He had a thick body, with muscle bulging up around his neck like a bodybuilder’s. His longish hair had messy braids at the crown to keep it out of his face, and the reddish-brown color had a rippling pattern, a bit like tiger stripes. He had long sideburns that ended in thick tufts at the base of his jaw. He wore a plain brown tunic belted at his waist, and his arms were as big as my thighs, corded with muscle and veins. His forearms were lightly dusted with reddish hair, which also seemed striped. He was like a cross between Thundercats and Braveheart.
The worst thing about him was his eyes. Not because they had slitted pupils like a cat—that was actually kind of neat. It was the emotion in them that bothered me, or rather, the lack of. They were cold and empty as he gazed at me. There wasn’t an ounce of softness there.
I didn’t like the look of him at all. “Nice to meet you, Hugh,” I said nervously. “But I’m sure protection isn’t necessary.”
After all, who was going to protect me from Hugh?
Finian smiled. “It’s not your decision, my pet. It’s mine, and I intend to keep an eye on my investment. Hugh is the best mercenary magic can buy, which is why he’s going to be your shadow until delivery day.”
My gaze flicked from Finian back to Hugh. “Oh, but I don’t need a shadow. I’ll just be very careful.”
Finian got to his feet. “Hugh, she’s all yours. I expect her unharmed and in perfect condition on delivery date. Understand me?”
