Page 32 of Wicked Little Tricks

“And she taught you your abilities?”

“Not quite.” I fell silent, growing increasingly uncomfortable.

“For being an open book, you don’t seem to have many pages.”

I took a bigger swill of my drink. “I just don’t like talking about my mom.”

He watched me for a long moment. There was too much behind those stunning gray eyes, making me squirm in my seat. “Fair enough. Were you born in the city?”

“No, I came here when I was young.” I was alreadyregretting allowing him to ask questions. Maybe I should have risked the vampires.

I was actually happy when Gabriel returned, interrupting us. He didn’t say anything, but Mistral seemed to understand what his presence meant.

He stood, then offered me his hand.

Irritated, tired, but also warm and tingly from the wine, I took his hand and stood. His magic sent a little thrill through my body and I involuntarily took a step toward him.

Keep your enemies close. Yeah, that was it. Although I wasn’t entirely sure if he was actually an enemy. Ormyenemy. He was most certainly Sebastian’s.

With a small smile, Mistral led me toward the door with Ringo hiding beneath my hair against my neck. Gabriel watched us pass, then followed.

We made our way down the hall with the impossibly long runner rug, eventually stopping at another open door with food smells wafting out. Mistral escorted me inside.

The first thing I noticed was the long wooden dining table, big enough to seat ten people. I wondered how often those seats were filled. So far, Mistral and Gabriel seemed like the only two goblins in the entire place. Judging by the lavish spread on the table, maybe some of those elusive people would be joining us tonight. There was enough food to feed an army.

Mistral walked past me, then pulled out a chair, waiting behind it expectantly.

After a moment’s thought, I took it. He wasn’t the first guy over a century old I had been around. They tended to have better manners than the rest of them.

Mistral took the seat at the head of the table, adjacent to mine.

I glanced back at Gabriel standing near the open door. “You cook?”

He smirked. “I have many talents, spy.” He turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

With Mistral watching me, I removed the glass salad bowl from my plate and scooped some roasted fingerling potatoes into it for Ringo. I put the bowl on the seat beside me, and he hopped down out of my hair. He needed no further invitation to start loudly munching on the potatoes.

My eyes shifted to Mistral, who was yet to fill his plate. “You know, I feel like an animal in the zoo when you watch me like that.”

“I do not usually serve fine wine and foods to animals.”

I looked at the wine carafe in the center of the table, debating pouring myself another glass. “You call that wine? It tastes as strong as whiskey.”

He smiled. “Goblins have no issue handling their liquor. Are celestials not the same?”

“Not that I know of.” Despite my words, I reached for the carafe.

The food looked amazing, and something drenched in melted cheese had particularly caught my eye, but I was hesitant to eat. The wine had proven safe enough, but—

“The food is made with a bit if magic, but it isn’t enchanted, if that’s your worry. You already agreed to our bargain. I have no reason to bespell you.”

I gave him a wary look.

“You don’t know much about goblin magic, do you?”

I furrowed my brow, not sure if I should admit it, but he could find out easily enough. “Not really.”

“I could tell you, if you’d like.”

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