“Fuck you!”
“Yes, precisely.” He nodded. “Is your sister's life worth it?”
I went still. Something trembled inside me; a warning, or maybe a call to action. I suddenly wondered if he were telling the truth. And if he were, what would my answer to that question be? Would Helen's life be worth my freedom?
“Why would you want me?” I asked him with narrowed eyes. “If you can heal cancer, why would you need to bargain for a woman?”
“I'm not bargaining for a woman, I'm bargaining for a willing slave,” he corrected me. “And those are much harder to come by.”
“Not really.” I sat back and looked him over. “With those looks, you could find several women who would happily go home with you and be your slave.”
“For a night or two.” He shrugged. “I'm asking for the rest of your life.”
“Fine, but there are far more beautiful women to bargain with.”
“I want you.”
“That makes no sense.” I waved a hand at myself.
I wasn't ugly, but I wasn't exactly supermodel material either. My hair was a touch too brown to be a true red, my skin was a shade too dark to be that peaches and cream complexion that was the best part of being a redhead, and my body was too curvy for most men in this starve-yourself-thin world. Then there was my height; at five-seven, a lot of men came close to being at eye-level with me. When I wore heels, I had towering potential. Yet this hottie wanted me? Sure; and I was actually the lost Princess Anastasia.
“I'm not certain, to be honest with you.” He chuckled. “Let's just say that there's something about you that is fascinating.”
“Uh-huh.” I stood up. “Okay buddy, whatever.”
“Are you seriously giving up the chance of saving your sister?”
I froze.
“You have nothing to lose but pride,” he went on. “You're afraid I'm going to humiliate you, correct?”
I looked back at him.
“What is that, compared to the chance that I could be telling the truth?”
I sat back down very slowly.
“Okay, let's say you are for real,” I said. “And let's say that I agree to this. What then?”
“I will state our terms, and you will agree with them verbally,” he said. “That's all.”
“I could back out,” I huffed.
“If you refuse to honor our arrangement after I cure your sister,” his tone went deadly, “I will take back the cure, and your sister will die—immediately.”
A chill shot through me.
“That's the first thing you've said that I actually believe,” I whispered.
“Good”—he leaned forward—“because it's the truth. I have no patience for humans; especially those who call me a liar. So, I'm going to silence your accusations by doing something I wouldn't normally do.”
One second the guy was normal, the next his skin gleamed with a silver sheen and his eyes glowed like sapphires in the sun. I gasped and pulled back.
“What are you?” I whispered.
“I am the King of Unseelie,” he said proudly as his image returned to that of a normal—albeit gorgeous—man. “What you might call; a fairy.”
“A fairy?” I gaped at him. “Sure. Okay. A fairy is going to cure my sister. Why not?”
