Page 45 of Goblins Don't Count
I grabbed his arm while it hit me. “Wait, the dress had a compulsion spell in it? So at the governor’s ball, I really was compelling everyone to answer me?” I groaned and dropped my suitcase and Mr. Raccoon and threw myself at the goblin, squeezing him as tight as I could while he inhaled sharply and held very still. All that time I’d been working magic? I was supposed to be a witch! Why hadn’t I noticed? And Clarinda! I was going to kill her! No, because it was way too expensive, but I’d avoid her for at least a week.
“What are you doing?” he asked, and I realized that he was still standing there, very still, while I strangled him with all my pent-up emotions.
“Hugging. You offered. You’re supposed to squeeze me back.”
“Oh. It feels more martial than I expected.”
“Sh. I’m very upset.”
He carefully put his arms around me and squeezed, but gently. Little by little, the emotions eased out of me until I wasn’t on the precipice of loud, ugly sobbing. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. It was nice. Like paper and ink, also the woods at night, wild, but in a suit.
Eventually, my heart stopped pounding so hard, and I pulled away, slipping out of his arms and trying not to feel weird. He’d offered.
“You do feel better,” he noted, studying my face. “That’s all right then. Come with me and I’ll take you to goblin town.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your work.”
He smiled slightly. “You burst in here with a suitcase when you don’t want to interrupt my work? What do you bring when youdowant to interrupt me?”
“An edible dress with compulsion properties, obviously. I feel like an idiot now, running around like a hysterical child. I just feel so betrayed. My mother put a truth spell on me. I guess I understand how everyone at the ball felt under my compulsion.”
“Empathy is a monster. I recommend avoiding it where possible.” He took my hand, his skin smooth and warm against mine. “And your blackmailer betrayed you as well. I suppose I should save my betrayal for another day. How did you like the parking garage?”
I beamed at him. “I love it. It is the best thing about our relationship.”
He squeezed my hand slightly. “That’s only because you haven’t seen my house.” He tugged me towards the room, the one that was too private and personal to be where he lived, and then into the closet, pushing back the suits to reveal a wall.
He stood there, studying it thoughtfully.
“It’s a very nice wall,” I said, brushing the gray stone. “I think it’s granite, like the bank.”
He glanced at me, amusement in his eyes. “I’m calculating area. I don’t think that the suitcase will fit. We’ll have to pick it up later. The raccoon will be a squeeze.”
“Well, we can leave him too,” I offered. “But I don’t see why you have to do calculations about area in your closet.”
He squeezed my hand, then pressed his palm against the wall. A green light ran down the wall, over his hand, then it split to reveal a small booth with a smooth rounded top and flat bottom.
He stepped in, pulling me with him, and suddenly we were face to face, in a very tight space, the smooth wall behind me, giving me nowhere to go. Not that I wanted to.
Mr. Raccoon climbed in after us, clinging to my legs as he pressed in and the wall slid closed behind us, leaving us in the dark.
“Well, if this is your house…”
He laughed and then slid his hands around my waist, turning me so I had my back pressed against his chest. “Tell me if you’d rather hide your face against my skin, or if you’d like to see.”
“Um, see?”
It sounded like a trick question.
“Then see,” he murmured, and then all of a sudden we were in motion, shooting up, like a rocket, emerging from the top of the bank and spearing through the sky with the city spinning all around us.
My stomach was left behind from the rush of motion, but the thing is, it was incredibly cool, like doing tricks at the skate park with Gabby, or chasing down a criminal with nothing but my taser. I was laughing by the time we hit the top of our arc, and then we came down in a rush, past buildings, rushing down, down, towards the ground of a nice piece of lawn. We were so fast, I barely had time to think what a pity to die and kill all that perfect green grass before the lawn split open, swallowing us in the darkness. We kept falling, down, down, into the undercity, and down, down, to goblin town, and down, down, to wherever Sashimi considered his house.
It stopped with a lurch, but slow enough I didn’t die. I was breathless, but still bubbly as it settled down into darkness, leaving me once more aware of the goblin wrapped around me, his pulse steady while mine raced. His scent was wrapped around me along with his arms and for a moment, I was brought back to the roof, to the feel of his weight, his mouth, his breath.
I’m going to barf.
I gasped and looked down, unable to see the raccoon, but I could smell him. “He’s sick.”
