Zelda swallowed, suddenly very afraid of Malgraxon and his wrath. There was only a table between them, but it would take nothing for him to reach across and snuff the life out of her.
Then the manifestation was gone.
Malgraxon scowled, but Zelda released the breath she had been holding because the smoke and skull special effects had vanished. He said, “Amiron broke the spirit of our bargain and wormed his way out of the contract’s obligations. It is vexing.”
He was outplayed at his own game. Yeah, she could see how that would be vexing. Rather than share her insights, she should keep her mouth shut. Mal didn’t seem to be in the mood. Yet she said, “And you can’t come at him directly.”
“I will engineer a situation and create a new obligation, one that Amiron will not be able to manipulate.”
“You mentioned a trap?—”
His eyes grew dark, the black completely swallowing the light. He reached across the table. Gripping her fork like it was the last line of defense, Zelda remained motionless as he cupped the side of her face with one hand.
“You will be the most magnificent bait,” he said.
Bait… Yeah, nothing to be worried about there.
“What happens if you break the rules?” she asked.
Mal snatched his hand away and stood quickly from the table. “Be ready tomorrow evening. Do something with your hair. I find this ragamuffin appearance charming, but it will not do with Amiron Yan’s sort.”
She touched her still damp hair as she watched him leave. He had said a lot that evening, but it had been mostly empty prattle. What he didn’t say was more interesting.
There were tons of stories about djinn that granted wishes only to twist them. Or monkey paw wishes that came with a terrible price. Fae that offered a bargain that appeared simple on the face of it but was much more complex. A crossroads demon who granted your deepest desire in exchange for your soul. Stories of the human getting one over the bargainer, however, were few and far between.
What had Amiron done? What rules tied Malgraxon’s hands?
Worry eased within her. Whatever Malgraxon’s motive, he wasn’t after her. She was just a bystander caught up in his ultimate target: Amiron.
A knock soundedon her door at the top of the hour.
Right on time.
After their disastrous dinner, Zelda half-expected Malgraxon to turn up the next morning with coffee and bagels or burst into the pawnshop like nothing happened. He did neither. Novisits, no demands for hot chocolate or impromptu meals in her apartment. Nothing but silence until the evening of the party.
“You’re here,” Zelda said as she opened the door to Malgraxon, sounding surprised. She had feared he called off the deal.
Dressed in a well-tailored suit, he was elegance personified with the same face as last time. The eyes, though—they were entirely human, and it looked wrong. Dull.
“Of course. We have a bargain,” he said. His gaze swept over her, his eyes shifting from regular blue to smoky black and back again.
Zelda touched the meteorite necklace. She couldn’t help but recall how his eyes blazed when he put the necklace on her, how she felt sure he would lean down and preemptively claim his kiss. She got the same vibe from him now, which was silly. She knew what she looked like. The midnight blue dress was very flattering, but there was only so much she could do with her hair and makeup. Tonight, she set her chestnut hair in loose curls, and thankfully her hair cooperated.
“Your lips are very red,” he said.
“Thank you. It’s called rouge star.” The vivid red lipstick was a risk, but it worked well with her complexion and the classic look of the dress.
“It suits you.” His eyes flared again, and he pressed a finger to his lip, contemplating her.
Zelda blushed, unused to such open admiration.
“Are you wearing everything I sent?”
Zelda nodded.
He leaned in to whisper, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “The black panties?”
She sucked in a breath. She had worn the black silk panties the night before. Tonight, she wore a pink pair. It seemed a crime not to wear them.