Page 8 of Bound By Blood
"Are you suggesting we make a deal?"
Her stomach tightened. She hated that word, and she'd vowed she would never under any circumstances make a deal with a fae. Not after what happened the last time.
She swallowed hard. "A—a trade. What about a trade?"
He tried to glance back at her. "Is something wrong? You don't sound right."
"I'm fine." She cleared her throat. "What about a trade?"
"What's the difference between a trade and a bargain?"
"Trades involve specific terms that are precise. Bargains are more open-ended."
"Really?"
"Yes." She drew in a deep breath. "What does it take to replenish your magic?"
"I don't—I don't actually know. At least not beyond taking back the apparition and putting it back through the process."
"Well, I have heard that fae can regenerate magic over time. And that the right foods could make it happen faster."
"I've heard the same, but I don't actually know what they are. Do you?"
"I can find out or at least try, but I'd be willing to make you soup every night for at least three months until we get you something that works if you let me keep the dog."
"You want to trade soup for a dog—apparition?"
"I make excellent soup."
He remained silent a moment longer. "This is ridiculous. You know that."
"A little."
"And if I wanted to hurt you, I'd just break free and sit on you."
"I imagine if you could get free, you'd have done so already." She glanced up at the sky, scanning for any dark shapes or reasons to be concerned. "But I accept that you don't want to hurt me."
Even if she wasn't entirely certain she believed him. He didn't sound nearly so angry as she would have expected.
"Are you willing to make the trade? I make you soup, and you let me keep the dog?"
"If I agree to this, it doesn't even matter if you follow through," he said. "I can't get the magic back from the apparition after the form has fully set. But…"
He studied her, his head cocked at an awkward angle. His hair had slid over half his face, hiding one eye and leaving his sharply pointed ear exposed.
What was he trying to determine?
She met his gaze. It wasn't a good trade. Not really, but she couldn't let something happen to that dog.
Sighing, he shook his head. "Fine. I accept the terms of your barg—"
"Trade," she corrected.
"Trade." He frowned.
"You swear that you will not harm me or the dog?"
"I swear."
