“No?” I splutter.
“Why aren’t you talking?”
I prise my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “I…er…you surprised me.”
Not the most dazzlingly intellectual sentence ever uttered, but it will do.
Suddenly, all the hairs on the back of my neck are rising and a strange strangled yelp is twisting its way out of my throat.
This motherfucking fey just walked through the railings as if they weren’t there and now he is standing right next to me. My mind is scrambling from this blatant flaunting of physics.
“You are tall,” says the fey.
I take a step backwards, but he simply steps after me. I haven’t managed to increase the distance between us at all.
“And you have muscles,” he says as he licks his lips.
Wait. What? Does he want to eat me, or does he fancy me? My stomach is rolling at that last thought. I’m strangely and stupidly pleased that he might fancy me. But I’m straight. And a member of the Resistance. He is a fey and well, a he. What the fuck is happening to me?
He moves, far too fast. His hand rests on my left pec and squeezes. His eyes sparkle and a wicked smile curves his soft-looking lips.
“Lovely,” he sighs happily.
It takes all my effort to swallow, and then I’m done. Spent and helpless. Exhausted from the effort. Too frazzled to do anything else.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
Yes! I know this! A question I can answer. This is brilliant.
“Blake Robinson,” I supply smoothly.
Surprise flashes across his amethyst eyes and his eyebrows rise. “You are telling the truth.”
I am. Maybe I should have given an alias. Given I’m a Resistance fighter and all. But nobody knows that. I’m not on a list anywhere. I have been damn careful about that. There is no reason Blake Robinson can’t be an innocent tourist.
Besides, apparently, giving my real name was the right thing to do, since this creepy fey appears to be able to tell. A false name would have aroused suspicion. So I have stumbled into doing the right thing.
Now I just need to get the hell out of here.
“Blake,” he says, placing far too much emphasis on the K.
But I like the way he makes my name sound exotic and interesting. My name sounds good on his lips.
His striking purple eyes light up with something that can only be described as predatory. It’s making my heart race and my limbs shake. As well as stirring a heat low in my gut. There is something very wrong with me. I need to get out of here. Right now.
“Um…Is that the time? It was lovely to meet you, but I must dash!”
The fey tilts his head at me. “Oh sweetie, you are not going anywhere.”
He raises his hands and claps them. Long elegant fingers coming together to make a surprisingly loud noise. The silver bracelets on his slender wrists jangle.
I blink. Four fey guards appear. Wearing leather armour complete with swords sheathed at their hips. I gulp. Look at me. Never seen a fey in the flesh before today. Now I have seen five.
“I’m just a tourist!” I protest, but it comes out several octaves higher than my normal vocal range.
The amethyst-eyed fey gives me a smile that makes my stomach do peculiar things.
“Not anymore, you’re not.”
