Aeric’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve a knack for telling the future. What do you see, imp? What aren’t you telling me?”
He shrugged, tracing the bike’s tank, which literally seemed to purr under his touch. “I could tell you. For a price. Of course.”
“Stop screwing around with him, Rumpelstiltskin,” Lissa hissed his name, feeling the oddest surge of defensiveness for the big Viking standing beside her. She’d put him into this mess, somehow she’d fix it. She had to.
The blond devil wet his lips, and the hard press of his gaze did things to her insides. Made her want to run and hide from it. Frowning, she angled her body slightly so that she stood behind Aeric.
It was irrational she knew, she was barely visible, but it seemed to her that the broker saw much more than the average individual.
“No, dear. Wouldn’t want to do that, now would we?”
“Enough,” Aeric snapped, “forget I ever asked. I will not be signing on for a new bargain. Name your price, so that we may journey on.”
Rumpel sighed. “If we must, I suppose. This is my deal then, you are free to go.” He smiled a vicious curl of teeth and lips.
“That’s it?” she asked, mind whirling with a million different possibilities. “That can’t—”
Aeric chuckled, though it sounded far from amused. “No, Lissa, that’s never it. The devil is never so generous.”
“Hmm. Matters of the heart, and you’re a * cat, but you are shrewd, Huntsman, at least in that. You are free to go, for now. Continue on your quest. I shall save my boon for a day when I actually need it. Fair enough?” He spread his hands wide in a gesture of innocence.
But Aeric looked far from appeased.
“You cannot leave me to wonder.”
Rumpel rolled his eyes. “I can do whatever I want. You needed me, remember?” he winked. “And,” he held up a finger, “lest we should forget.”
An ancient looking roll of parchment winked into existence before them. The black lettering was bold against the shimmering golden glow of the paper.
“A signature is required. Just to make sure this all stays legal. Of course.”
Lissa studied the document. “The signee and Rumpelstiltskin hereby enter into this legal, and binding contract. This the…” the empty space rolled with color until a date magically appeared, “twentieth of the month of February. The signee agrees to any and all terms, or face dismemberment, if not certain death by the hands of one, Rumpelstiltskin… What the devil?” she squeaked, “don’t sign this, Aeric.”
“You worry too much,” Rumpel waved aside her concerns as if swatting at a fly, “this is a very standard contract, I can assure you. And have yet to actually dismember anybody. Though I would,” he eyed Aeric with lifted brow, “should the need ever arise. Though I trust that you Huntsman shall keep to your end of the bargain. N’est-ce pas?”
“There has to be better terms than this, surely?” she pleaded again.
Aeric’s jaw clenched as he said, “There’s not.”
Then lifting his hand, he held it up to the parchment. A flash of white so brilliant it brought immediate tears to her eyes covered his hand, slicing a large groove across the center, bleeding him instantly.
He didn’t stop to think it through or even look at her, Aeric pressed his palm to the paper. The moment he did, it burst into flame and Rumpel nodded, patting his coat.
“Always a pleasure doing business with you, huntsman. And word of advice—”
“I don’t need any from you,” Aeric growled.
Mouth still open as if ready to speak, Rumpel finally shrugged. “Suit yourself.” And with the flick of his wrist his bike gave a throaty growl, spewing out flames and bellowing like a hound of hell. With a final salute, Rumpel rode off, disappearing into the veil of shadow that always followed with him.
Suddenly the forest that’d been so quiet now echoed with life. Crickets chirped and birds sang. A sweet breeze swept through the thicket of trees, carrying with it the perfume of unfurling flower buds and Lissa’s now familiar scent of spring rain.
The sun was weak, they’d spent a while hammering out the details with Rumpel. Already it was time to start thinking of setting up camp.
“Aeric?” she whispered his name, almost afraid to speak too loudly because she might startle him. He was staring off into the distance, not blinking or moving.
After several tense minutes, he nodded. “We must make camp.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “We should.”
She waited for him to say something else, anything else. But he didn’t. He just turned on his heel and walked away.
Having Rumpel rip open his every wound right in front of her left Aeric feeling exposed and angry. His movements were jerky and hard as he climbed the tree. He hadn’t had a thing to eat or drink since last night. Perspiring wasn’t helping, he was parched and his throat so dry it was almost painful to swallow, if he didn’t find Chrysalis soon he’d be forced to leave Wonderland.