Someone else had my feathers.
I could already imagine their leash around my neck.
It was only a matter of time.
I stumbled back into my living room before I collapsed, and managed to get my phone out. I called the only person who I thought could help me—the only other person nearby who might care.
“Human resources,” Namir teased, after picking up.
I couldn’t form words. I could barely breathe.
“Lily?” he quickly asked, realizing something was wrong. “Are you all right?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Lily,” he said, making my name into a growl of concern. “Where are you?” And when I didn’t answer fast enough... “Home?” he guessed. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.” I heard him shout a muffled order to someone else, before I regained his full attention. “No—wait—if it’s not safe—go a few blocks away. Text me an address.”
It didn’t matter. Nothing did. Everything was crashing down.
“Lily!” He shouted my name one last time, before I managed to hang up.
Chapter 4
I had only the vaguest connection to my body when Namir had arrived. He’d patted me roughly, making sure I wasn’t hurt, and then had searched the house, seeing all the same things I had. Then he picked me up and put me into his sportscar—I didn’t know where he was taking me.
It probably didn’t matter.
Soon I wouldn’t care about anything, ever again.
Was this what it would feel like when I was controlled? When some man slid on my feathers and demanded things of me? Would I feel this great distance between myself—the true me—and the rest of the world, forever?
And when I could next pay attention to anything, I was swaddled in warm blankets, sitting on a broad leather couch, in front of a crackling fire, my hurt hand cleaned and wrapped.
There was a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, as well as a glass of whiskey with a ball of ice in it, and Namir was in another leather chair, off to the side, his elbows on his knees, watching me with eyes that gleamed like a cat’s in the firelight.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want when you got better,” he said. He was in the same suit he’d had on earlier, only now his tie was undone.
I pushed the blankets around me down—they all smelled like his tiger. Masculine, musky, like danger personified. “Better,” I repeated, and gave a soft laugh.
He pulled his whole chair closer. “What happened, Lily? I saw your place.”
I opened my mouth up and nothing came out. Inevertalked about my feathers. You could only tell people you absolutelytrusted about them, and past the mythology of being swans, my parents had told me all the horror stories. All the swan men and women who’d shown their feathers to the wrong person, who’d then lost their sense of self. Been forced to get married to strangers, and have their children, trapped until they could escape—ifthey could escape.
All the swans who’d thought that they’d had true love, only to find out that they’d been wrong.
“Lily.” Namir said my name again, and put a comforting hand on my knee. I was still wearing my dealer’s uniform from the casino, a crisp white linen shirt, and a short black mini. When I dragged my eyes up to meet his, his whole expression was full of tense concern.
Was Namir safe?
At the casino, yes. He was actually great there. For all that Namirwasa predator, when I was on shift, I knew he always had my back. He always knew the difference between players having a good time, chatting me up and giving me tips, versus the ones who got handsy after winning a few, who felt like the chip they’d tossed in my direction meant that I owed them. He had no problem throwing out drunks or obnoxious flirters, most times even before I had to say a thing.
But here?
And withthis?
I closed my eyes and swallowed, hoping that whatever instinct I had right now in my belly was right.
“What kind of supernatural creature do you think I am?” I asked him.