Page 44 of Goblins Don't Count
“I haven’t answered the first.”
“It doesn’t really make a difference.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “You shouldn’t ask such questions of someone who is, in fact, an assassin if you aren’t serious.”
“But you know I’m broke, and a real assassin wouldn’t ever kill someone without hopes of being paid for it. I just want to kill him.”
His expression cleared. “No, you don’t. You want to hurt him, but not kill. Also, not hurt him badly, because you’re like that. Soft underbelly.”
I shrugged, irritated that he wouldn’t take my anger seriously. It was serious to me. “Which brings me to the next question. Can I stay with you until I figure out housing? It’s hard to find really secure housing in areas that aren’t incredibly expensive, and police officers sometimes get targeted, so security is important.”
“Me?” He stared at me with big glowing eyes, and I started feeling like maybe this wasn’t the best solution.
“Is that weird? I guess it is. I should have asked Gabby, but she’d probably tell my mother if she asked. Also, her and Apples are unconsciously affectionate. It’s disturbing.”
“Ah. We’re hiding you from your mother? That does sound serious.” He pursed his lips, which were very soft and pretty. “It would cost four-point-two million to kill Winston the Warlock, and it would take time, research, and hopefully a close friend willing to betray him.”
“What?” I blinked at him. “I said I wasn’t serious.”
“And to answer your second question, yes. You may stay with me until you’ve figured out permanent housing.”
“Oh. Okay.” I stared at him while he stood there behind his desk, staring back at me. “Um, I guess I’ll just take this…” I grabbed my suitcase and started to the left, where his room and amazing bath tub was. I was going to climb into it and have a good thinking session. Maybe I’d scream a little, but eventually, I’d start thinking.
He vaulted over the desk and grabbed my suitcase, pulling me up short.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
I stared at him. “Oh. You don’t want me in your room? That makes sense. I guess I could sleep on the window seat.”
He smiled, showing a flash of sharp teeth for a moment before his soft lips smoothed. “You think that I live in the bank? I own a great deal of real estate, much of which I consider personal property. Not my office.”
“But it smells like you,” I said, suddenly hyper aware of him, so close to me, and my feelings still so raw and intense.
“Yes, but it is not for you.” He pursed his lips. “Rynne, do you need a hug?”
I gaped at him. “Goblins hug?”
“Not really, but humans do, and you are half human.”
“Come to think of it, if the goblin queen is always a human, and your father’s always at least half a human, you’re probably even more human than me.”
He wrinkled his nose. “That’s not the way the goblin king works.”
“But you’re the goblin authority.”
“Do you want a hug or not?” His expression was even. He didn’t want to hug me, but he could see that I was coming apart at the seams.
I straightened up and pulled back my shoulders, releasing the tight hold I had on Mr. Raccoon. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you when you’re willing to let me stay with you. What do you want for rent?”
“Nothing. You will stay with me as long as you like, and you will give me nothing for it that you aren’t already giving me. You’re already under my protection. I would happily pay for your housing, clothing, transportation, and make certain that it was as secure and safe as possible.”
“No more edible dresses?” I asked him wryly.
His frown was concerned. “I think it was more than edible. I think there was a compulsion spell woven into it. Otherwise, I don’t think I would have eaten it. That was out of character for me. I don’t usually run around eating people’s clothing.”
“Glad we cleared that up. I was starting to wonder if I’d have to give up natural fibers completely. I’m sorry to interrupt your work,” I said, nodding at the pile of broken machines.
“It wasn’t going well.”
