Page 17 of Bound and Tide

Xander thought only briefly of his lumpy bed, and went to the apothecary instead.

Chapter 10

EARNING FAVOR

This time, Xander only had to knock once and to say nothing.

Red unlatched the door of Maisie’s Magical Accouterments, set herself firmly in the entryway against the blustering cold of the street, and glared at him. At least, he thought she was glaring, but there was a peculiarness to her eyes from beneath thick lashes.

“Find what you were looking for?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Not exactly.” Though it was close enough for now.

She held him in her emerald gaze a moment longer then shrugged, turning away to leave him there in the entry. The flicker of thick, waxy candles set on the counter danced over her body as she crossed the shop and retrieved a broom, her long shadow cast up the wall of drying herbs and curious containers. His noxscura couldn’t touch that, he knew—it would never bend to his will, arcane or otherwise.

“I’m not sure what else you expect from me,” she said as she swept, “but it will cost you since your retainer is all used up.”

Xander let himself in, latching the door behind him. He’d never been allowed to stay after closing. The embers in the hearth were barely aglow, but it was much warmer inside—warmer than The Sleepy Salmon would have been.

“You helped me, Red.” He wandered between two of the shelves in the shop’s center and brushed his fingers over the trinkets there, the smoothness of glass and chill of metal, but his touch craved heat and softness. “So I am here to offer my services in return.”

Red sauntered down the narrow row to meet him. Her smell and the shop’s were nearly one and the same, earthy herbs and candle smoke, but when she was close enough, there was a sweetness to her that the old floors and walls didn’t have. He’d only noticed it once before, under the trees that afternoon, but hadn’t been able to appreciate it until now.

Xander’s fingers flexed, hands lifting, but stopped just short of the curve of her hips. Dark gods, he wanted to sink his claws into her flesh and make her scream but…but what? Hesitation was barely a word Xander knew before coming to this gods-forsaken town, and his interest never lasted so long in someone who didn’t give him something back. But then Red was giving him something—that same look he’d gotten over the hunter’s body. The one that saw.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

His tongue went thick, his stomach knotted, and the breath went all out of him, so that he could only manage a meager, “Yes, please.” Please? From what pathetic corner of the deepest Abyss had that come?

“Clean the floors, and I’ll think about it.”

There was a broom in Xander’s hands instead of her hips, and saliva filling up his mouth instead of her tongue. That sweetness trailed away to the back of the shop where she disappeared behind a curtain.

Once he was left alone, anger didn’t well up in his bones, though the brief indignity felt eerily similar, but there was something wholly maddening and inescapable that held him to the spot and convinced him to sweep.

It was almost an hour later before Xander Shadowhart realized he had finished a chore for perhaps the first time in his adult life, and damn, he had done quite a good job of it if he said so himself, which he did, loudly, multiple times. To be fair, the place needed little cleaning as Red was admirably tidy, but he did manage to fish out some forgotten shards of glass from under a small table and rearrange a few bottles so that the labels faced outward properly.

But his shoulders were beginning to complain along with his lower back, his hands were tight from gripping the broom, and, gods, was that the beginning of a callus on his supple palm? He’d have to ask after some sort of skin-softening salve. If he’d had arcana to spare, it would have made things an Abyss of a lot easier, but something told him Red wouldn’t have liked it if he left the cleaning up to magic, though the devious part of Xander’s brain—which was the part almost always in control—considered what fun it might be to get her overly exasperated with him just before she finally gave in to his carnal prowess.

“Finished?” The curtain beside the counter shifted, and Red stepped out into the dying candlelight. She had abandoned her modest skirt and blouse in exchange for a robe that exposed slender forearms and long legs when she took just the right step. It was a very fine, scarlet fabric, hand painted with white feathers, and had to be from across the Maroon Sea—nothing else clung to skin in such a way, cascading over curves and pooling in valleys. Xander had to have it, but thoughts of nicking the robe melted away when he noted how her sweet smell honeyed up the air.

He tossed the broom away, and it clattered to the floor. Red’s sultry gaze followed, and then Xander flicked his wrist, conjuring the very last of his meager shadows to pick it back up and set it more carefully in the corner.

“We’ll be discussing that later,” she said, cocking a brow. “But first, I need to inspect your work.”

Xander’s heart leapt into his throat, and since it so rarely did that, he thought he would choke. He watched her peruse the shop, willing the thumping to still and swallowing hard. There was a familiarity to the apprehension that crept up his spine, dread slinking right after.

Red ran a finger along a shelf and frowned. Was he meant to dust those? But she hadn’t said and darkness that was always the way, wasn’t it? Expected to read minds, to fulfill impossibilities, to know unknowns. Heat spread through his chest and up his neck, and he almost snuffed out the candles so she could look no more—not at the poor job he’d done and especially not at him.

“I must say”—she flashed him a smile—“it doesn’t look too bad in here.”

Xander’s heart leapt again, this time with an entirely new unfamiliarity. He grinned, deep and overcome, and then pulled it back because of course he’d done perfectly—there should have never been any doubt, and really he deserved a fair bit more praise than that.

“I actually think you must say it looks marvelous in here.” With an overconfident flourish, he held out his hands. “The floor is impeccably clean.”

“Oh?” She walked across the well-swept planks with bare feet that left the faint outline of damp prints. “Clean enough to eat off of?”

Xander went so stiff even his brow couldn’t cock.

---