by Jessica Sims
I’d never get it, though. Not with the path I was on. I was heading straight for poodle territory.
I sighed and turned away from the board. “Come on. Let’s lock up.”
Hugh was wildly out of place in my condo.
To better disguise my inner ugly, I kept up my cheerful theme. My sofa was pink with lemon-wedge-shaped cushions and a lacy dust ruffle. My curtains were white eyelet, and knickknacks of unicorns and baby animals cluttered my shelves. One of my dates had once complained that it looked like the living room of a ten-year-old.
Hugh took in my living room soundlessly as I locked the front door behind us. “I guess you can sleep on the couch,” I told him. “As long as you promise no funny business.”
“Funny . . . business?” he echoed, clearly not understanding the sentiment.
“You know. No trying to touch me. No hanky-panky.”
He stared at me, then snorted. “You are quite safe in that regard.”
Ouch! “You sure do know how to sweet-talk a lady. A lot of guys happen to think I’m quite cute.”
Hugh regarded me for a moment, and I could have sworn there was color in his cheeks. Embarrassed? He crossed his arms over his chest. “It would not matter if you were the most beautiful creature on earth. I am forbidden to touch you, as outlined in my vow.”
“Oh. So what exactly does your vow entail?”
He was silent.
Ah—clearly one of those questions that would give away too much information. “Gotcha. Well, it doesn’t involve sleeping with ugly changelings, so it doesn’t matter, I suppose.”
“I did not say you were ugly.”
I suspected this was as close to a compliment as I’d get from him. Mollified, I shrugged and headed to my linen closet. “I’ll get you a blanket.”
I didn’t often entertain visitors, so I didn’t have much in the way of extra linens. I ended up using an old throw quilt from the rocking chair. By the time I returned to my living room, Hugh was checking things out. I watched as he picked up one of my strawberry-vanilla scented candles, sniffed it, and gave it a tentative lick.
“Um, you don’t eat that,” I told him, trying not to laugh at his revolted expression. “You don’t have candles in the fae world? Really?”
“I am primordial,” he said simply, as if that answered everything. But he put the candle back down.
“And I still don’t know what that is,” I said, patting the blanket. “So do you care to share? Or are you just going to keep tossing it around like it means something that I should understand?”
His mouth twitched with amusement. “The latter, perhaps.”
I rolled my eyes. “More of your vow?”
“No. Just . . . difficult to explain.” He rubbed his jaw, and I noticed that there was stripey fur at the edges of his jaw, almost like sideburns. Why was that so oddly attractive? “We are like your shifters, but different. Very different. Much where I come from is nothing like . . . all this.” He gestured at my bright, colorful living room.
“I’m told this isn’t like most people’s stuff anyhow,” I said, heading to the couch and beginning to toss stuffed animals and cushions off of it. “Marie laughs at my fondness for pink.”
“It is quite . . . interesting in here.” He gazed around and then looked back at me. “Very colorful.”
“Blinding. You can say it. I like the color. It makes me happy.”
“Yes, outwardly you seem easily pleased.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but Hugh knew all my secrets. It made me feel vulnerable to realize that he knew everything I was, yet I knew nothing about him.
It was starting to bother me.
“We weren’t talking about me,” I said. “Don’t change the subject. We were talking about you and your people.”
“Mmm.”
“Brothers? Sisters? Big family? Get along with your parents?”
“None.”
“None what?”
“I have none. No brothers, no sisters. No parents.”
“Everybody has parents.”
“If I do, I do not recall them.”
“How can you forget if you have family?”
He simply stared at me.
Okay, our agreement that he would be silent when he didn’t want to answer was getting a little annoying. “How old are you?”
“That is a question I have no answer for. Time passes differently in the fae realms.”
“Well, you are just a fountain of information, aren’t you?” I was getting testy. “So I’m supposed to know nothing about you but trust you with my life for the next month? Is that right?”
“It is.”
How was it that a guy who couldn’t lie managed to be so incredibly unhelpful? “And then I’m supposed to just go along with the fact that someone thinks he can own me?”
He shrugged.
“So what happens if I say no? What if I want to live out here in the human world, and just embrace my changeling half or something?”
He looked intrigued. “Is that possible?”
I had no idea. But I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. “I don’t see why not. There are people other than the fae who have information on changelings.”
“Is that so?” He seemed nonplussed.
“It is,” I told him in a lofty voice. “I can break the curse if I find a man to give my virginity to before my twenty-fifth birthday arrives.”
He said nothing.
That infuriated me all over again. “And furthermore, if I find my True Love, I won’t turn when he touches me. I just have to find him before I hit my birthday.”
Hugh remained silent. Was he irritated that I knew so much already? Had he and Finian conspired to withhold this information from me?
“Well?” I said.
“So this is your plan? To find a human man and have relations with him?”
“It beats the alternative, don’t you think?”
“You do realize that your changeling body is much stronger than a normal human body?”
“So?”
“So you might overcome a human male. You could damage him or even kill him.”
I swallowed hard. Hugh said he never lied. “Then I’ll have to find a nonhuman man, won’t I? I can get a nice shifter guy to hook up with.” I’d just have to explain my little “problem” and hope for the best. Surely someone that changed into another shape himself wouldn’t mind that I changed into . . . something.
“I’ll have to prevent it.” Hugh’s look was stony.
“You will not!”
His smile was cruel. “Why do you think Finian sent me to your side now? You are getting desperate to escape your curse. You’ll try anything . . . and I’m going to be at your side to make sure it doesn’t happen.”
“I hate you,” I spat at him, throwing the quilt down on the couch. “You’re an awful, awful man.”
He gave me a grim look. “I know. But that is how it must be.”
I stomped to my room, slamming the door.
Despite my fury and the bizarre events of the day, I slept soundly and woke up around noon. My condo was quiet and I sat up, cocking my head and listening for Hugh. I could hear nothing. Even putting my ear to my bedroom door, I could hear nothing. I tossed a robe over my frilly pink pajamas and went to check things out.
Immediately, there were signs of Hugh. I picked up an empty Pop-Tart wrapper in the hallway and, a few steps later, a demolished chip bag. Half-eaten cookies were crumbled on the wooden floors, and it looked like the contents of my pantry had been strewn about and taste-tested, including boxes of uncooked spaghetti noodles. I could hear water running somewhere in the house and headed toward that.
The tap was running in the kitchen sink, and I turned it off, frowning. The room was an unmitigated disaster a
rea. My electric stove had been turned on; the burners were bright red, and I quickly clicked them off. The refrigerator door hung open, and plastic wrapping covered the floor, including an empty package of steak and some tubing that had held ground beef for the spaghetti I’d planned on making for dinner.
Irritated, I swiped the wrapping up and tossed it in the trash. “Hugh?”
No answer.
He’d left? That made no sense. He’d declared he was going to be my shadow for the next month; why would he leave me here by myself? I could almost think I’d imagined the whole thing if it hadn’t been for the fact that every bit of food I owned had at least one bite taken out of it.
I walked down the hall of my small condo again. “Hugh? You here?”
Still no answer. I checked all the doors—even the closet—but nothing. I went to the front door to check outside . . . and it wouldn’t open. I tugged at the handle. Nothing. Alarmed, I ran my hand along the door frame, looking for something jamming it, but there was nothing. It just didn’t respond. I could turn the handle, but the door was stuck fast.
Perplexed, I took a step back. What to do now?
There was nothing to do but wait. I went back to my room and showered and dressed. Wearing my favorite pink-and-white tracksuit with a pair of sneaker pumps, I blow-dried my hair, fixed it into two topknots with puffy pink bands, and curled my bangs. Then, as I waited for Hugh to return, I set about cleaning the mess that he had left.
I’d just finished sweeping the last of the crumbs off my hardwood floors when I heard a sound at the front door. I tossed aside the broom and rushed to it, just in time to run into Hugh’s enormous chest entering the room.
“Eep!” I staggered backward, automatically putting a hand up to push him away before he could get too close. “Hugh! Where have you been? What’s going on? Why couldn’t I open the door?”
Hugh stepped inside and shut the front door behind him, blocking me from the outside. He was holding a large fast-food bag and a coffee, and he looked down at me with one raised eyebrow. “Which of your questions do you wish for me to answer?”
“All of them!”
He brushed past me, his strange tunic sliding against my skin as he moved by, and the smell of burgers wafted into the condo. “I hunted for food. Finian was clear that I am to provide for you if possible, to ensure that you receive the best care until he is to retrieve you.”
Perplexed at this answer, I glanced at the front door, then watched as Hugh strode to the couch with his food. “How come the door’s working now?” I went to it and tested the doorknob. Sure enough, it opened easily. “I don’t understand.”
“I sealed it,” Hugh said. “Come and eat what I have provided. You are a small female and need to fatten up.”
Well, that was something a girl didn’t hear every day. “I am a perfect size four, thank you. And I wish to stay that way.” I sat on the couch next to him and blinked at the mountain of wrapped sandwiches he pulled out of the bag. There had to be at least twenty burgers of all kinds on my table. “Goodness. Did you get enough food?”
He considered the burger mountain and then eyed me, quite serious. “Do you eat much? Shall I get more?”
“I was joking,” I told him and picked up the closest sandwich. “Thank you, I suppose. How did you get these? Did Finian give you money?” Hugh didn’t seem like the type to carry a wallet.
“I took them.”
I stopped unwrapping my burger and looked over at Hugh. “You . . . took them?”
“Yes. I walked up to the window like you showed me last night and demanded their food.” He shook his head, began to unwrap the first burger, and took an enormous bite out of it. “They were most disagreeable until I snarled at them.”
My eyes widened. I stared down at the burger in horror. “Hugh, you have to pay for sandwiches. You can’t just go to a drive-thru and growl at people until they give you things. You pay for them!”
“I do not understand this word pay,” he said between bites. “Your land is strange.” To my surprise, he reached over the mountain of burgers and handed me the cup of coffee. “I acquired the beverage you like.”
“Oh. Thank you.” I took it from him and gave him a smile. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
“I did not forget it. The smell is most foul.”
I giggled at the way his nostrils flared. “Not to me.” I gave it a deep sniff. “Mmmmm, coffee.”
“I prefer the smell of these,” he said and lifted a burger to his nose. “Mmmm, animal flesh.”
And just like that, I lost my appetite for my burger. “We call it meat here,” I said, wrinkling my nose.
He shrugged and took another bite. “I like it better cold.”
I remembered the packages he’d pulled out of my fridge and shuddered. “You mean raw? That’s unsanitary.”
Hugh simply grinned at me, flashing those big canines as he took another bite.
I sipped the coffee—lukewarm, but it was the thought that counted—and glanced back at the front door. “So how did you seal the door shut?”
“Portal magic.” He devoured the burger in his hand in two quick, enormous bites.
“And that is . . . ?”
This time, he gave me a brows-furrowed expression. “Do you not have portal magic here?”
“Um, we don’t have magic anything.”
“You have changelings,” he pointed out. “And shifters.”
Good point. “We don’t have magic that I am aware of,” I amended. “How does this portal magic work? Can anyone do it?” I was incredibly curious. More than that, I wanted to know how I could use it to my advantage. “Can I do it, as a changeling?”
He shook his head and reached inside the neck of his tunic, pulling out a necklace with two small stones hanging from it. “Because I am sworn to serve Finian, he gave me these. This one calls Finian.” He held up a blue stone. Then he lifted a pebble-sized garnet with some sort of rune carved into it. “This one is a portal stone. I can lock or open any portal using it. I have to give it back once my vow is completed.”
“So why did he give you that one? Where do you need to open a portal to?”
“Home, if I so wish.” He shrugged. “Or need assistance. I won’t, but it’s available to me. Also to ensure that you remain where I want you at all times.”
That sent a chill down my spine. “Like you did this morning?”
“Aye.” He picked up another sandwich.
“So basically, you can imprison me whenever you want to?”
Hugh ignored my question.
“That’s not a no,” I pointed out tartly. “I don’t like this little situation one bit.”
“It’s not for you to like or dislike, little changeling. It simply is. There is no sense in fighting it.”
That bleak desperation curled in my stomach again. “Please help me, Hugh. You know what he has intended for me.”
“I do.” His voice was flat with dislike. He didn’t look me in the eye.
“Then don’t deliver me to him,” I begged. “Let me go. Or better yet, help me figure out how to break my curse. Please. You know about changelings. You can help me. I’ll pay you.”
He shook his head. “You know I cannot break my vow with Finian. No matter how many times you ask.”
My shoulders drooped. “This vow must be pretty compelling for you to callously sell me out.”
Hugh hesitated, then tossed his burger down on the table as if his appetite was gone, too. “If you must know, it is the thing my people desire most.”
It was clear from Hugh’s attitude that he didn’t like the fae prince. So Finian had clearly offered something pretty dang amazing.
And that made me curious. It was time to try a different tactic.
I wiped my hands off and stood up, determined to change topics. “So tell me how t
his portal magic works. You said you can go home?”
Hugh gave me a skeptical look. “I am not leaving you, female. Get that thought out of your mind.”
“I didn’t say you should,” I told him in my sweetest voice, the one I used on our most irascible clients. “I’ll go with you. I want to see these primordials for myself.”
“No,” Hugh said flatly.
That wasn’t a good enough answer for me. “Why not?” I fluttered my lashes at him, then sat down a bit closer, leaning in because men always seemed to appreciate that sort of thing. And I gave him my most fascinated, intense expression. “I want to learn all about you, Hugh. Is that so wrong?”
He blinked at me a few times, and I watched his nostrils flare out—a sure sign that he was taking in my scent. He looked a bit . . . dazed at the turn in my mood.
I’d been handling Hugh all wrong.
He’d driven me so crazy with his high-handed ways and bossiness that he’d made me forget my best weapon—flirting.
I put my hand on his sleeve. “Please?” I made my voice soft, sweet, and girlish.
“It is forbidden to show outsiders the primordial lands,” he said, but his gaze went to my hand—small, pink, manicured. Dainty on his big arm. I had to resist the urge to feel his bulging muscles, because he definitely was bulging.
“What’s it going to harm?” I asked him softly. “I’m going to be at your side for the next month, and then I’m leaving with Finian. When will I have a chance to tell an outsider anything?” I leaned even closer. “I just . . . want to understand. That’s all.”
Hugh’s gaze went to my mouth. He said nothing, just stared at my mouth.
I licked my lips deliberately. It was weird how I was getting all flushed and bothered by this as well. It was just the power trip, I told myself. I loved the ego-stroke of bringing a man to his knees.
“I . . .” he began.
“Yes?” My voice was breathy and soft.
“I . . . you must vow to secrecy.” His catlike eyes focused on my eyes, finally tearing away from my mouth. “Vow that you won’t speak of it to others.”
Yes! “I vow it,” I said, slowly and deliberately, so he wouldn’t see my eagerness.
