“Why do you need a human child?”
“It is the only way to preserve what I have here, but I have sworn not to get another child. I cannot go back to Earth and get one.”
She nodded. “That’s a good thing, Bitterroot. Humans shouldn’t give up their babies.”
“He would be a king in Fairyland!”
“He belongs with his human parents.”
Bitterroot turned his attention back outside. The cheesy pixies were having trouble with the second spire. They’d only half destroyed it, so they were loading up again with what looked like triple the payload.
“It’s the only thing that will save my home,” he whispered.
“Well, you’ll just have to find another way, instead of kidnapping somebody’s child.”
He nodded. “Such is the law. What I have sworn, I must obey.”
“Good.”
He turned to look at her, and his expression was calm, determined, and a little bit scary. Actually, it was more than a little scary. The way he looked at her had turned into an intense scrutiny or a desperate challenge. And she didn’t like where either of those thoughts were leading her. Or him.
“Bitterroot…,” she said, though she had no idea how to finish that sentence.
“You are a human woman,” he said.
“Er, yes. Yes, I am.”
“You can give birth to a human child,” he stated. “In fact, you said you wanted one.”
“Someday! I said someday. And with the right man.” She straightened off her chair and started backing into the cage room. Except there was nowhere to go. Not with the dragon cages behind her and Pixie Armageddon outside. “Bitterroot, I’m not having your baby.”
“I know,” he said softly. “I am of Fairy, and I need a human child.”
Oh shit. That sounded a lot worse.
“I’m not having a baby just so you can use it!”
He exhaled slowly and his expression turned cunning. “Well,” he drawled in that really sexy, really annoying way he had. “I guess that means we have a lot to discuss.”
“What?”
He gestured outside. “We cannot go out there until the sprites get bored and settle down.”
She frowned. “How long will that be?”
He shrugged. “The last pixie invasion lasted a thousand years.”
She swallowed. “That’s a really long time.” Good thing her contract was for only another ten months. But she didn’t want to spend all that time locked inside with him. She’d go mad for sure and likely do something really, really stupid.
Meanwhile, Bitterroot grabbed a chair, flipped it around, and dropped it down in front of her. Then he sat and set his chin on his fist. It was a casual pose and one that never failed to freak her out, mainly because he was a pompous asshole of a fairy prince except in moments like this when he became casual. She knew it was a pose. He was mimicking something he’d seen on Earth. And yet, when she looked at him, she saw that his expression was defeated. Maybe even vulnerable.
“You really are in trouble, aren’t you?” she asked.
His eyes grew hooded. If she had to guess, he was ashamed of his failure. “I will find an answer,” he said stiffly. “I am the last living prince of this realm, grandchild of the human baby Eric, and protector of thissqueak.”
She winced at the strange sound. “This what?” she asked.
He started to answer again but then shook his head. That happened sometimes. There were words in the Fairy language that just sounded like mouse squeaks to her. Apparently whatever it was he protected was one of those words.
