“When you are nearly immortal, you need not concern yourself with the injuries, sickness, and infirmities of age. Serve me well, and I could see to it that you are granted that gift.”
“Package that and you’d put the insurance companies out of business.” I was thinking fast, or trying to. Rake Danescu was getting closer, but my feet and—of more concern—the rest of me was making no effort to get farther away. In fact, parts of me were toying with open rebellion with my good sense.
“There are other benefits that are beyond your imagination,” the goblin said.
“I can imagine quite a bit.”
He gave a low laugh. “And I eagerly look forward to you telling me about each and every one.”
His smile went from dangerous to downright wicked, as he slid one long arm around my waist, pulling me tight against him. I didn’t know if it was a figment of my imagination or trick of the light, but I could swear the goblin’s eyes were getting larger and darker. With goblins, sex was just as much about power as what you did with the parts. And from what I was feeling, he wasn’t lacking in either department.
“Have you heard what happened to your predecessors?” he asked softly.
A chill ran from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “One of them.”
“Would that be the exsanguination, the fall from the Empire State Building, or the unfortunate subway accident?”
“The first one.”
“You haven’t been told of the others?”
“Not yet.”
“Nor will you, unless you ask your new employer some very direct questions. Questions the senior management at SPI will find most uncomfortable. And an interesting fact concerning your American supernatural flora and fauna—North American sewer leeches don’t live this far north.”
I just stared.
“Yes, they lied to you.” He smiled slowly, as he slid his other hand down the length of my spine. “Would you like to know why?”
I was officially beyond words.
“Tell me, Makenna Fraser, have you seen any demons lately?”
“Present company excluded?”
He laughed softly. “Contrary to what many in this city—human and supernatural—think, greed is not good. There is nothing wrong with acquiring possessions that are pleasing to the senses—present company included—however, I know when to stop. Others do not share my restraint. There is danger in reaching too far without acknowledging the limits of your power. Such wanton arrogance could destroy us all. Vivienne has experienced difficulty protecting her seers. Perhaps you would be safer with me.”
There was a sneeze, and a pile of feather boas in the far corner poofed up in the blast of nasal air.
Rake Danescu released me and crossed the room faster than I could see, reached behind a pile of discarded costumes, and plucked out one very wanted leprechaun prince by the scruff of his scrawny neck.
“Ah, here is my little trespasser.” The goblin’s smile was more like a hungry hyena than anything else. And like a scared rabbit, the leprechaun couldn’t stop himself from looking at the predator that’d plucked him from his burrow of feathers. Prince Finnegan was no longer a naked human woman. He was something worse—a naked leprechaun. Ick didn’t even begin to cover it; and believe me, I wanted it covered.
Rake Danescu’s black eyes locked on Finn’s with all the warmth of a shark about to feed. What was about as bad as it could get for the prince was good for me. If Danescu wanted to keep his leprechaun prisoner, and right now, for my sake, I hoped he did, he couldn’t break eye contact, or Finn would vanish faster than tips in a stripper’s G-string.
And without those black eyes holding me hostage, I felt some semblance of sanity returning.
Now it was Prince Finnegan’s turn to panic. However, being a leprechaun with the gift of gab, he was trying to talk his way out of the mess he’d sneezed his way into.
His words came in a gush. “In exchange for my freedom, I will gladly grant you three wishes.”
Danescu smiled slowly. “Of course, you will. You will give me everything I want—including the name of who sent you here. I believe the clichéd wish is for you to give me riches, power, and my heart’s desire. I already possess all three, leaving you with nothing left with which to bargain. Why are you here, leprechaun?”
Finn grinned like a used car salesman who liked a challenge and had just met his match.
“If you consider carefully and wish well,” the leprechaun told the goblin, “you could accomplish what I know you want in only two wishes.” Finn waggled his bushy, red eyebrows. “Leaving you free to use your first wish to cleanse the human and elven stain from your place of business. For no extra charge, I can include the wolf man presently lurking in your alley, after which there will be no one to prove SPI’s agents were even here. Then we will be free to conduct our business in a civilized manner.”