Page List


Font:  

His stormy, vicious blue eyes invaded the mouth-watering image. A tingle of fear worked up my spine at the haunted depths to his intense, unwavering gaze.

He’d looked at me like I was prey. I had felt like prey, and not of the sexual variety. He was dangerous, and if he was playing a game of cat and mouse, the blanket was bait. He probably hoped I’d let my guard down.

“Everything okay?”

I jumped at the sound of Mordecai’s voice and spun around, smoothing over my expression. “Yup,” I answered automatically.

He slowly walked from the kitchen, clutching his threadbare blanket around his bony shoulders. Each step jolted his body in ways that a healthy shifter would never experience, even on his deathbed.

He was hurting, and I bet the cold had already settled deeply in his bones.

Desperation tugged at me. Maybe the blanket was a trap, but it was one I’d happily walk into if it would help Mordecai. “Get this! I won the most awesome blanket. Check it out.”

Without another thought, I turned back and snagged the handles of the bag. It was probably a bad idea, but if it gave him a warm night in an otherwise shitty existence riddled with pain, I’d handle whatever came of it.

“It’s the Rolls-Royce of blankets,” I said. “It was going to be a surprise, but…well, you ruined it. Here.” I pushed the bag toward him.

“What?” he said slowly, clearly confused. I had that effect on people.

“You shouldn’t lie—”

I shut the door on Frank to shut him up. Also because I hoped he’d eventually get the message and buzz off.

“What’s going on?” Daisy peeked around the corner, saw that the front door was closed, and fully emerged. “Did you say something about a Rolls-Royce?”

Mordecai extracted the folded blanket with more effort than it should’ve taken, even for him. His eyebrows knitted together as he hefted the bundle.

“What?” Daisy pushed in close. “What’s the matter? Wow, this looks— Oh my God, this is so soft.” With rounded eyes, she looked my way. “Did you steal this?”

“No! I said I won it,” I replied.

She gave me a flat look. “We all know you are the unluckiest person on the planet. Even if you’d cheated, you still wouldn’t have won it. How’d you get it?”

I sighed and headed back to the kitchen. “Fine. Don’t believe me. It’s awesome, though. It’s a weighted blanket to…like… It’s therapeutic. And super soft. You’ll love it.”

“Where did you really get this?” Mordecai asked, carefully putting the blanket back into the bag and stepping away.

“Honestly, Mordecai, I did not steal that. Or buy it. You can relax, since I didn’t spend money on you.” I gestured with the knife. “Use the thing.”

“I’m with Viggo, here—”

“Viggo is the actor,” Mordecai said in a pained tone. “The character was Aragorn.”

“Fine, whatever. I’m with noble Aragorn here. You clearly found that bag on the front porch, you’re acting shady, and this isn’t adding up. Where’d you get it? Because you know you can’t get caught stealing. Three strikes means you stay in jail. I ain’t running this bitch on my own, I will tell you that much. Although then I could sell those fake drugs to that hot moron…”

Was nothing in my life easy?

“Fine!”

I gave in. I always did. As I made dinner, I went through what had happened at the shopping center, including finding that Burberry bag, because I knew these two would be just as excited on my behalf. By the time we set the table and sat down to eat, I’d told them everything.

“Give it back,” Mordecai said without hesitation. “I love turquoise. I’d rather have that blanket, anyway. And you know I hate surprises, so this works out better.”

“I know you do. That’s why I like giving them to you.” I blew out a breath. “So that’s one vote for giving it back.” I spooned some vegetable glop into my mouth. It wasn’t much to look at, but it actually tasted all right. “I’m for keeping it. I mean, he did ask about the sick kid. Clearly he was making sure his goodwill would go to a worthy cause.”

“What’ll happen when he finds out I’m not actually a kid?” Mordecai asked.

I paused in chewing. I hadn’t thought about that.

“Teen, kid, whatever.” I waved the thought away. “And he won’t find out. I’m never going to see the guy again.” I shrugged, almost completely hoping it was true. Only a very tiny part of me lingered on the image of the stranger’s robust body, his gorgeous face, and intense, turbulent gaze. He spoke to the part of me that liked to chase assholes and fall for bad boys. The part I knifed whenever it reared its ugly head. “Daisy? What’s your vote? We should obviously keep the blanket, right? Mordecai needs it while we wrestle up a few more bucks.”

“Okay, but…” She stabbed her fork into her mashed potatoes. “Mordecai also needs a guardian, and this guy stalked you, Lexi.”

“He followed me,” I countered. “And to him, it was for good reason.”

“Telling someone to watch where they’re going, after nearly being run over, is a good reason to drop everything and stalk the person?” Mordecai asked incredulously.

My case was collapsing.

Daisy shook her head. “Stalking is not sexy, Alexis, no matter how hot you think the stalker is. It denotes an unbalanced, possessive personality, the kind of person who will manipulate the object of desire into isolation so that they’ll fall into dependency and subservience. The object loses themselves and becomes property, basically.”

There was the fifty-year-old side of Daisy. She could sound extremely clinical when she needed to. She’d also seen that particular scenario firsthand in one of her many foster families.

“I think we all know that I will never fall into dependency and subservience,” I said, eyeing the two of them. They both nodded, however grudgingly. “And besides, this is a different situation. I have nothing he could possibly want. He didn’t even leave a note with which to manipulate me. I can claim ignorance. Seriously, he’s just giving a sick kid a blanket, you guys. There is bound to be one gem among a sea of rich turds.”

“Rich guys look down on people like us,” Mordecai said, concern in his eyes.

“She knows that.” Daisy moved the food around her plate. “She’s clearly bullshitting right now. You can see it in her shifty eyes.”

“No swearing until you’re eighteen. Or…while…” I grasped for what my mother always used to tell me. “Not while you’re under my roof.”

I earned another eye roll.

“You have to see that the whole story is very strange, Lexi,” Mordecai said. “I’ve never heard of any magical person acting like this. Are you sure he was? Magical, I mean?”

“Definitely. No human could’ve moved that fast.”

“And you think he was definitely important and not some stuffed shirt with an overinflated ego?”

I paused, running through the facts. “I’m not sure, no. He spoke like a guy with power, and he clearly had a lot of money because he was driving a Ferrari, but I don’t actually know his position in the magical government. Or even if he has one.”

“He could’ve stolen the car,” Daisy said.

“Car boosters don’t drive their extremely obvious stolen cars around shopping malls,” Mordecai responded.

“Are you dense? It was a shopping complex, idiot,” she retorted.

“Daisy, don’t call your brother an idiot,” I said automatically.

“He’s not my brother.”

“Then don’t call your roommate an idiot.” I rubbed my temples. “Regardless of whether he has magical authority or not, what could he possibly want with me?”

“Well… You had a point earlier with Frank,” Daisy said, eyeing me. “You look like you just rolled out of bed, so it might not be a desire thing. Still, plenty of people have questionable taste. He could be softening you up so you’ll let him get close, then he’ll show you his sadistic side. A side he can’t show to his peers or they’ll think less of him…”

“He already showed her his sadistic side. By stalking her.” Mordecai gave me a poignant look. “I really don’t think we should take gifts from sadists.”

“I agree.” Daisy nodded decisively. “I vote no. You need to give the blanket back. Normally I would say you should chuck it at his face and call him a stalking sonuvabitch, but in this case…maybe just place it at his feet and run.”

“Right. Sure. Except I don’t know who he is, where he lives, or where he hangs out.” I put my hands up and flashed them a winning smile. “So, you see? We have to take it.”

“Keep it in that bag until you see him again.” Daisy shoveled dairy-free mashed potatoes into her mouth (people didn’t usually give away dairy products), then talked around them. “And you will see him again, because he’s a stalker.”

“When you see him,” Mordecai added, “tell him I said thank you—”


Tags: K.F. Breene Demigod of San Francisco Fantasy