“She has requested my presence, and I am unable to visit her alone.”
I startled. Eli was the strongest person I knew--other than Beatrice--and they had no discord. She knew who he was and had no desire to start a war with the fae. And while Eli had no great love for her, they’d spoken almost cordially.
“It would be inappropriate to see her without you with me. A fae who has pledged devotion must not meet unchaperoned with anyone sexually mature.” His voice was level; he always had the same calm tone when I was panicking or about to lose my temper.
“Like you can’t see her because you might be overcome and marry her instead?” I stopped short of saying that would be fine. It wasn’t—and everyone who knew me knew it. I might not be interested in making his babies, or a future in Elphame, but I was exceedingly interested in Eli.
“Geneviève—"
“Monkey balls. This is that whole faux engagement that--”
“Not faux,” Eli interjected. “My hand is already yours, sugar cookie.” He gave me the sort of look that could melt knickers. “This was a formal invitation, Geneviève, which means I cannot visit her without accompaniment of my intended, a relative, or a male friend.”
“I can go, Gen,” Jesse offered.
Eli smiled. “Your offer of friendship is cherished.”
“Faeries are weird,” Christy said when Jesse’s mouth gaped open—presumably at the realization that he’d called Eli a friend. They’d been at odds before my almost-dying-thing.
At that Eli bowed his head to her and to Sera and added, “It means much to have your regard.”
Christy toasted him. They had a strange dynamic. Their friendship was natural, equal regard but not sexual tension. Sometimes I envied them.
Sera opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, I blurted, “Let’s go, Eli.”
We said our goodbyes, and I walked away with Eli. In some ways it was less awkward than trying to talk to him and my friends. They had turned to his side when he saved my life, risked his freedom to do so, and now, I was left with no defense other than “I don’t want to.” It was weak—because I couldn’t spill his secrets and because they were a lot more accepting of my draugr heritage than I was.
We made it halfway to the bar door before I told him, “Your uncle sent an invitation.”
“I know. He has commissioned six gowns so far in hopes that one will please you.” Eli had the carefully calm tone again.
“Six gowns?”
“Did the invitation mention the presentation of the future queen?” He tucked my hand into the fold of his arm. “It’s traditional.”
I stopped walking. “Presenting the future qu-- . . . you mean me? The event is about presenting me?”
Eli nudged me forward. “I suggested he order you a sword or three to assuage your ill mood in his direction. Not that I’ll give him all the answers, Geneviève, but in this case, I thought weapons might interest you more than gowns. The armory has been working on several pieces.”
“Flaming monkey balls.”
“Geneviève, there are laws. You are my intended. I cannot change that,” he said, again.
I glanced back at my friends. I was to be out tonight enjoying life. Not off to see a draugr queen or navigate Yule plans with the fae king. I mouthed, “Help?”
Sera gave me an encouraging gesture, and Jesse smiled.
Christy mouthed back, “Get some.”
“I do like Christy.” Eli chuckled at seeing her. “Smart woman. Wise. Perhaps you should listen to her advice.”
“If only it were that easy.” I leaned in and kissed him quickly, just a butterfly brush of lips. “There ought to be perks to this clusterfuck, and you naked under me sounds like an excellent idea.”
“Indeed, bonbon.” He growled a little.
I shivered at the desire that little noise sparked.
Smiling, Eli open the door for me. “What do you say to a faery bargain, Geneviève Crowe?”
The last faery bargain was for a kiss, and that had led to this engagement. Was I fool enough to make a bargain with Eli? When he stepped outside, his hand pressed against my low back, and my fracturing resolve grew even weaker.
“What are your terms?” I was pretty sure that Eve had felt this same flutter in a long-ago garden.
“Ones that include pleasure.”
“Tell me more,” I encouraged.
He smiled. There were a million sins in that look, and I wanted to commit every one of them twice.
Chapter Three
Chapter 3
* * *
Eli’s car was waiting for us. He opened the passenger door, and I slid into the little blue convertible. If my hand brushed his stomach as I did so, it was purely accidentally, as was the way I looked up at him.
“Temptress.”
I grinned. “Says the faery who just offered me my greatest desire.”
He closed the door and was silent as he entered the driver’s side of the car and eased us into the nighttime traffic.
Once we were zipping through the ever-busy night streets of New Orleans, Eli finally said, “If I could avoid the traditional presentation of the queen, I would.”
“I know.”
Eli added, “And if I wasn’t who I am—”
“A bar owner? A liar?”
“Geneviève, I do not lie,” he stated.
It was true in a manner of speaking. The fae never lie. Omit? Distract? Trick? Those are a kind of mistruth, too, but they are not what the fae consider a lie.
“A man who desperately wants to tell my world and yours to go burn while I lock us away and start to slake the needs we have,” he said, as casually as anything.
“Oh . . . So, this bargain--”
“I would have picked a fiancé from the women there if I could have,” Eli continued. “That was too much of a lie to do, though. I want none of them. No one in Elphame or here. Just you.”
“So, we’re really discussing this, then?” I glanced over at him. “No longer avoiding it?”
Eli sighed. “The fae are not renowned for being direct without reason.”
“What’s your reason?”
“A bargain, love. I want to propose a deal with you.” His voice was somehow even more alluring here in the dark as we zipped through the city. “Are you clever enough to make a bargain with me, Geneviève?”
It would be wrong to throw caution away while he was driving, but his voice did things to my body that some men couldn’t accomplish with their mouths.
“I’m listening,” I said. It was the most I could offer without destroying the peace we were building.
Inside the car, this small bubble of safety where the monsters were unable to get to us, where our issues were tucked away as we rushed off to jobs or meetings, I felt like we could exist outside of time. I wanted that desperately, to ignore the reasons we couldn’t be more. I wanted a simple world. And I suspected I wasn’t alone in that.
The city was alive with too many decorations already. Oak trees draped in cheap balls and tinsel. Mardi Gras beads repurposed as Christmas beads. There was a defiance to the way the city approached festivity.