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“Surprise is key in all art.”
~ Oscar Niemeyer
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Bear stared at the striking woman in front of him and the same thought repeated over and over in his head: What. The. Fuck?
He’d wonder why the dark fae lord left out this one crucial detail, but he already knew the answer. He wasn’t supposed to open the box. The client never intended for him to find out he’d stolen an actual person.
What the fuck?
Again and again, the thought repeated as anger rose from within and heated his blood. Bear had stooped to some pretty low lows—breaking laws where necessary, cracking some skulls, lying, stealing—but never this low. There were some lines he refused to cross.
Chloe studied the room, focusing on his hastily drawn runes along the walls. She dropped her head back and laughed—a raucous roar of bells. She clutched her stomach and laughed some more.
He folded his arms in front of his chest and waited. Her Underworld power continued to flow from her skin, beckoning him to come closer and play in the waves. From the second she burst from the box, he’d had to lock his knees to physically prevent himself from being drawn in by her power.
She flung out an arm and pointed at the nearest rune. “Do you know what these are?”
He shifted his weight on his feet, not sure if he’d need to subdue her, fight her or run. “They trap the essence of the Claíomh Solais and prevent anyone from forming a portal to the ‘object.’”
She laughed some more and shook her head. Her platinum hair brushed against her face as her shoulders shook. “Oh, you’re not wrong about that. But whomever gave these to you to use didn’t tell you how they worked, did they?” She glanced around the sparse apartment and then at him, her gaze appraising while still managing to dance with amusement. “You’re a thief. You weren’t meant to open the box with the runes drawn.”
This was apparently hilarious to Chloe and set her off on another fit of laughter. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” She wiped a tear from her eye.
“What kind of monster locks a person in a box?” Bear asked. The memory of the Shadow Man emerging from darkness with rage contorting his face into a death mask surged up. He’d moved so fast, Bear hadn’t seen the dagger before the weapon flew through the air perfectly aimed at his heart. Bear’s death had awaited him in that vault. And it still waited for him. Returning the box wasn’t an option.
Bear shivered. The Shadow Man locked this woman in a box. Why? Dark fae were deceptive and rarely what they seemed. Was the Shadow Man as vicious and as lethal as he looked, or was Chloe not as sweet as she appeared?
Bear leaned closer as if to examine her. “Or are you some monster that needs to be caged?”
Chloe cocked her head. “Dark fae live a long time. I grew weary and wanted to disconnect from the politics and squabbling for a few years. You and your alluring magic woke me up.”
Bear straightened without even meaning to. She found him alluring?
Gah! No, Bear. No. Do not fall for the fae. Do not be fooled by her considerable charms.
Odin-loving dark fae and their seductive ways. He wouldn’t fall for this nonsense. Bear snarled. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Trying to seduce me with your magic.” He waved a hand in the air as if to clear a thick cloud of perfume.
“Oh, that’s not me.”
Cryptic, too. Seductive and cryptic.
“What are you going to do?” She changed the subject and batted her long lashes at him. “Are you going to give this defenceless woman to your master?”
“Client.”
She smirked.
“And no. I draw the line at human trafficking.”
“Oooo.” She straightened. “A thief with morals. How very Robin Hood.” Her gaze sparkled. She mocked him. Minx.
“I’ll give him the box.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Why not? We’ll close it up and hand it over.” He’d still have to run for his life, but he didn’t see any other option. Maybe he could make a deal with the other dark fae—the one who tried to kill him. Sure. Sounded like a great plan.
She shook her head, her white hair whispering against her shoulders. “He’ll kill you on the spot. You won’t have time to run. He’ll know the moment he sees the box that I’m no longer inside. It would be better to run now.”
“You almost sound worried for me.”
“I’m growing strangely attached to you, Pretty Boy. It would be a shame to waste that face.”
He scowled and she responded by laughing like a fucking fairy.