“No. Not really anyway.” He answered quickly, without hesitation. “You have the power to cast me out–all mortals do. Most of them don’t know how to use it though.”
She pulled her hair back with shaking hands. “What are you?”
Eli crouched at the door. “It’s a long story.” He grimaced as if trying to decide something. Finally, he sighed. “Look. This is something most people don’t know. You can let me in with concessions. Like, I can’t come past the entryway, or, I must stand on one foot at all times.”
Her eyebrow rose. “More than one?”
“Never tested it.”
She stared. “You may enter on the condition you hoot quietly like a monkey, stick out your tongue, do the Charleston, scratch your bum while inside, and leave after exactly one minute.”
Eli stared at her, dumbstruck. Samantha giggled, only a touch of hysteria in her voice. “The look on your face! Can’t you refuse?”
“Well, yes, but if you’re serious, I’ve no recourse.”
“I’m serious.” She smiled just a little. After everything she’d seen today, she didn’t exactly think he was lying, but knowing how far her threshold would get her might be useful in the future. “I want to see if it works.”
* * * *
Eli cringed inwardly. Did she have to include the butt scratch? “I’ll have you know this is the most inane thing I have ever done.” He stepped inside. The burning started in his legs, and to stop it he started to move his feet, trying to recall what the Charleston even looked like. He’d never been a dancer. His tongue burned. He stuck it out. His throat tingled. With a grimace, he made his monkey noises as quietly as possible, muttering through them. “Damn it! Did you have–ooh, ooh, ah, ah!– to require–aie, aie!–the butt scratch?”
Samantha was staring at him with comically wide eyes, but muttered, “Duh. Go on.”
“I could still–ooh, ooh!–hurt you doing this.”
“That’s part of the test,” she said, crossing her arms.
His hand felt as if it were in a white-hot fire, and finally he hissed and gave in, madly scratching the crack of his ass as he jumped around with his tongue out. By the time he finally felt the urge to jump out of the room, Samantha was bent over laughing. He adjusted his shirt and grunted. “Glad you’re feeling better.”
“That was the best thing ever.” She cackled, slapping her knee. “Okay, okay.” It occurred to him she wasn’t going to make this easy. “While your intentions are pure, you are welcome in my home.” She nodded. “Should do it.”
Eli frowned. Could he enter on those grounds? Honestly, he wasn’t sure what his intentions regarding her were any more. If he entered, and the protections tossed him out, would he ever be able to recover the trust he’d gained? He grimaced. “I’m not certain that’s going to work.”
“So you are out to get me?” She asked softly.
He sighed. “It’s part of the long story. Technically, I’m ordered to have very bad intentions toward you.”
“Your orders and your intentions are separate. What do you want?”
What in the world did he want? Going back to his quiet time of offering something less hellish than life didn’t seem to be an option any more. “I want to tell you what’s going on so I can figure out what’s going on.”
She shrugged. “Try. Your intentions sound pure, but it’ll be good to know how far those words get me, anyway.”
He took a breath, frowning. She had already folded this into her worldview. With a small grimace, he stepped forward, nearly winced in expectation. But the burning pain never came, and he sighed.
Samantha rose, nodding. “So either you’re okay, or the words don’t get me very far at all.”
The pulse of her concessions wrapped around him like invisible strings. He took a breath. No one had ever tied him so completely with words. “No,” he murmured. “I think it’s probably the most iron-clad requirement I’ve ever heard.”
She tilted her head. “What’s it feel like?”
“Fishing line. Around my wrists, ankles, neck, and each, single claw.” He tried on a smile which came out more like a grimace. “It’s a little terrifying.”
“Do you often feel fear?” she asked.
“No,” he answered honestly. “Do you?”
“No.” She turned. “Not fear. Bathroom’s that way. Wash your hands–I’m going to change.
He nodded, complying with the strings of words trailing behind him.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
