He looked up, his finger hovering over the box. His eyebrow lifted in a cocky question mark, and I held out my hand for the box.
He started to hand it to me, but hesitated before dropping it in my palm. “There are built-in penalties for getting the code wrong,” he warned.
“Yeah, feels like a shock for the first incorrect code, sickness for the second, and a knockout spel after that until the box runs out of juice.” I kept my hand extended and he dropped the smal box in my palm.
I wrapped my senses around the box and then, with the tip of my finger, I traced the rune for loyalty into the lid. The second rune was love. The third . . . I hesitated, my finger hovering over the lid. I didn’t recognize the third rune, but I traced the design I felt.
The box popped open.
Falin stared at me. I smiled at him; then I removed the key and tossed first it, and then the box, to him. “Next time shop for charms with a sensitive.”
He palmed the key and stared at the box. “What’s the He palmed the key and stared at the box. “What’s the trick?”
“Not real y a trick.” I shrugged. “Low-grade pandora-trap charms sit around waiting for the right answer, and if you’re sensitive, they practical y broadcast what that answer is. A higher-grade pandora-trap includes a blanket spel that covers that broadcast.”
“Huh.” He shot a disappointed glance at his spel ed box and shoved his key in his apartment door. Once he returned the key to its box, he flashed Tess a dazzling smile and handed it back to her. “You’re a lifesaver, Tess.”
“Yeah. I know. See you around.” She shut the door and a moment later, the music in her apartment turned up again, twice as loud as when he’d first knocked.
Falin said nothing as he ushered me inside his apartment. The air inside smel ed stale, like the one-room apartment hadn’t been opened during the month he’d been gone. I wrinkled my nose and glanced at the layer of dust coating every surface of the otherwise immaculate room.
Falin crossed to the closet and grabbed an empty duffel bag. He dropped it beside the TV on the dresser and pul ed open a drawer.
“So what was the third rune?” I asked as I looked around.
“I didn’t recognize it.”
“Just a symbol I can remember easily.” He shrugged, unbuttoning his oxford. “I know only two runes.”
Love and loyalty. Love was no surprise. While true love spel s
were
considered
gray
magic
since
they
compromised someone else’s free wil , charms meant to attract love or help the bearer find love could be purchased at gas stations, to say nothing of charm stores. But loyalty—
that was a rarer rune. There was probably a good story behind it, and I made a mental note to ask at some point.
“So I imagine you took a class on runes in school,” Falin said as he peeled off his shirt. He winced with the movement, though his glamour covered not only the wound but the dressing as wel , so his chest looked smooth and but the dressing as wel , so his chest looked smooth and touchable. No, not touchable. Fine. Or, er, unhurt.
“Unhurt” was a much safer description. I tore my gaze away.
What were we talking about? Runes, that was it. Runes were a nice safe topic.
“Yeah, my academy required me to take four years of rune theory. I don’t use them a lot, though, so I only remember the common ones off the top of my head. What about you? Do the fae have schools that little fae kids go to and learn about Faerie and being fae?”
“Doubtful.”
“You don’t know?” I asked, glancing back over my shoulder.
That was the wrong move. Falin had discarded his ruined pants and now dug through the top drawer of his dresser in nothing but his glamour—and not a glamour that included clothing. From where I stood, I had a perfect view of his broad shoulders, the line of his spine, his trim waist trailing into slim hips and a tight ass and sleek thighs. My hands clenched at my sides as the tactile memory of tracing my fingers over al that skin gripped me.
I ripped my gaze away and tucked my bal ed fists under my armpits before my hands did something to embarrass me. Now would be a good time to remind yourself he’s the Winter Queen’s lover. But I’d never met the Winter Queen, so she wasn’t the best cold-shower solution in this situation.
I needed something else to think about.
“So, do you and Tess date?” I asked, wandering around the furniture. The apartment barely looked lived in. Falin owned a large couch, a dresser with a TV on top, a computer desk with computer, a folding card table and two chairs—little else as far as furniture, and nothing that I could pretend held my interest.
“Tess? No. She stores a key for me because I wind up here without one a little too often. Occupational hazard.”
I bet. “She likes you,” I said, hitting the POWER button on I bet. “She likes you,” I said, hitting the POWER button on his desktop.
His presence suddenly fil ed the space behind me. Then his arms slid around my waist, pul ing my back against his chest.