Pandora's Box (11 page)

Mina smiled a little at his peevish tone, already drifting off. Maybe it would also tell her how to break the curse. . . .

CHAPTER SIX

“Hey, beautiful.” Cinnamon-flavored breath warmed Mina’s cheek. “Are you in there?”

She groaned without opening her eyes. “Oh, Riordan. Not again. Really. A girl needs her beauty sleep.” If he woke her up one
more time to ask if she’d made a decision, she was damn well deciding against him. She had half a mind to do that anyway.
A sane woman would. What chance did a schoolteacher have against a two-thousand-year-old curse?

“Riordan?” The voice, deep and masculine, came from farther away. And from about three feet above her head.

Not Riordan’s voice. Sounded familiar, though—

“Teague?” She opened her eyes.

“Sounds like you’re used to company early in the morning.” His voice was bland—as bland as crushed velvet could get, anyway—and
his gaze was steady.

Damn, but he looked good. Even early in the morning when her eyes were swollen and her body ached as though she’d been the
one on the back of a stallion last night.

Oh, no. Where was the puca? He wouldn’t—?

“Bark.” The hellhound.

Teague closed his eyes at the sound. She couldn’t blame him, really. That unholy bark was downright unnerving.

Mina listened to the moist huff of canine panting under her bed. “That’s Riordan.”

Teague’s expression relaxed. “Oh. Interesting name.”

Thank God the puca had brains enough to assume doggy form.

Give me a little credit, please.

Don’t screw this up for me. Or I swear you can damn well live with that curse.

Does that mean you’ll help me?

She snarled. “Will you just stop pushing me?”

Teague removed his knee from the side of her bed. “Sorry.”

“I—”

I’m shutting up. I swear. Just let me know if you need a
matchmaker. I think I’d be really good at that shit.

She growled under her breath.

Keep talking to me like that and you’re going to mess things up
with this guy. Is that what you want?

“Hi, Teague. Sorry I’m so testy. I just feel like a wall fell on my head this morning.” She tried to sound pathetic.

“No wonder. Doesn’t help to wake up to a strange man’s face hovering over you, either, I bet. I tried knocking, but you didn’t
answer. I was worried about that head of yours, so I went around back and came through the section of your wall that’s still
open. Hey—” He whipped around, his focus arcing low to follow the path of a dark blur. “What the hell?”

Riordan, obviously. He’d bounded out of the room and soon thereafter Mina heard scratch-shuffling as the dog squirmed his
way under . . . the couch, she had to presume. Didn’t sound comfortable.

It’s not. But thanks so much for your concern.

Just an observation.

So have you—

And don’t ask that question.

“Does your dog run away from everyone or just me?” Teague turned back to eye her quizzically. “A guy could get a complex.”

She grinned. “From a dog?”

“We-ell, I guess you could say I’m a little at a disadvantage to start with. Vulnerable, you might even say.”

“Right.” Mina snorted.

“Hey, isn’t it just possible that
you
make
me
a little nervous, too?” He raised his eyebrows at her. “You know. ‘In a good way.’ ”

Mina remembered her excuse from the other night. It had been an excuse at the time, but . . . honestly, he really did make
her nerve endings go all bouncy. So, his went all bouncy, too? How very interesting.

“Great. Now you look smug.”

And he looked less than nervous, but that was okay. She smiled. “So do we have a date tonight still?”

“Yes, ma’am. Feel free to come as you are.” His gaze dipped lower and she followed the direction—

Snagged the blankets back up, but it was too late.

He was laughing.

She groaned, mortified and amused at the same time. “I didn’t buy it. Blame my mother.” The woman had much to answer for,
including the tawdry pj’s. Hey, she normally slept in a flimsy tank top and panties, but no way was she waltzing around Riordan
and his stallion woody while wearing next to nothing.

So she’d settled for pajama pants and a T-shirt describing the various suggestive positions of the “comma” sutra.

“If you hate it, why wear it? Maybe you should give it to the dog to sleep with.” He raised his voice. “Yo. Riordan. Come
here, boy.”

A warning growl rumbled from beneath the couch.

Your new boyfriend’s a laugh a minute. Maybe I should give
him something to—

“Riordan. Hush.”

Hey, watch it, babe. I’m not your lapdog to order around.

“So, Teague. Know of any good vets? I should probably do the responsible thing and get my dog fixed.”

Oh, now that’s just plain mean. Like I’d ever sit still for something
like that.

Teague was frowning. “Oh, now that’s just plain mean. Poor dog. He’s just nervous having me around. Give him a break.”

“Men.” She glanced from Teague to Riordan. “You guys all stick together when it comes to the jewels, don’t you?”

Teague shrugged, looking innocent. “Fellow feeling?”

“Uh, so to speak?” she asked in the same tone.

He grinned. “So, about tonight.”

“Our date tonight?”

“Yeah, that one. I was thinking dinner at that new steak place across town. Unless you’re a vegetarian? Not that that’s a
problem. We could do something else—”

“No, steak sounds wonderful.”

Yeah, I just love steak. I can’t wait. The last time I ate a steak
was . . . damn, I can’t even remember. This is just great, Mina.
And he’s paying, right?

Mina froze. You mean—

Just like a marriage. Whither thou goest also goest I. Or
something like that. My grasp of Old Testament lingo is kind of
rusty. Not a good era for me.

Spell it out, dog.

You know, I could start taking offense at all these dog references
and demands you make—

Riordan!

Canine sigh—and she could hear the whisper from under the couch in the living room.
Look, it’s not like I have a
choice in the matter. The Druids took this whole guardianship
deal seriously. Now that I’m locked into physical form, I can’t be
apart from you.

Well, what about that puca ride? The one you took Tiffany on? I wasn’t there then.

An exception to the rules.

So make another exception.

“Mina? So we’re on for tonight? The steak house?”

“I—” Riordan, you’d damn well better give me an out for this one. Somehow. This isn’t fair.

Live in a cornerstone for two millennia as punishment for
one night’s disgrace and then tell me about fair. Look, I didn’t
make the rules and I can’t change or break them. I’m bound to
you, remember?

“I . . .” Mina stared at Teague, mind racing for an explanation, alternative, solution, recipe for puca poison—

I heard that.

“Is there a problem?” Teague eyed her cautiously. “We could go somewhere else if you’d rather.”

“I . . . What if we ate here?” Oh, thank God. Oh, dear God. She had to cook? “Or maybe do take-out.” Brilliant, Mina.

“Sure. I guess.” He glanced around doubtfully. “I just thought . . . you don’t seem to get out much. And then I come here
to work all day. A change of scenery might be good.”

“Well . . .” She scrambled. Okay. What were her options? Tell a guy before their first date that she’s tied to a shape-shifting
puca who lives in a rock? Right, that would work. More likely, it would kill the possibility of any romantic relationship.
It might even lose her a contractor who refused to work for the criminally insane. What about partial truth? “Okay, I’m going
to level with you. I can’t leave my dog.”

Aw, that’s so sweet. I’m touched.

If you can’t help, the least you can do is butt out.

Okay. Butting out for now.

She smiled, just a little evilly. “Actually, I just recently adopted him and he’s still nervous about me leaving. He gets
. . . incontinent when he’s nervous and I get a mess. I’m sure he’ll settle in eventually, but for now—”

Teague was nodding. “Okay, I get it. Maybe you both could come over to my place? Unless he’d make amess there, too.” Teague
was frowning a little, obviously not eager for dog feces in his home. Not that she could blame him for that.

Can I do that? Riordan?

Thought you wanted me to butt out, sweetie.

Oh, cut it out and tell me. Can we leave here together?

Yeah, sure. I think so. I’m still feeling out the rules for this new
existence of mine, but so far it sounds possible.
He paused.
Actually,
it might be kind of nice to go somewhere. I get to ride in a car, right?
I’ve never been in a car. Does it hurt? Will you hold my hand if I get
scared? Paw. I meant paw. You’d rather I stay doggy-style, right?

Riordan, you are one sick puca. Yes, probably a car.

And maybe a little part of her softened at the idea of giving the puca a new experience. He’d missed so much, living inside
that rock since well before the industrial revolution.

Meanwhile, Teague was eyeing her, still with question, but a question that would expire soon unless she responded. “Yes, Teague.
Riordan and I would love to have dinner with you at your place. He’ll be good.” He’d better be.

Er, bark?

“Excellent. I’ll pick you both up at seven, then.”

“Or I could just drive over—”

Teague was already shaking his head. “Now that would just be sabotage. If you can’t tell, I’m trying to impress my date with
old-fashioned chivalry.”

“Oh, really.” Mina smiled. “In that case, I’ll just be sitting here all damsel-like and waiting.”

Make that “barf.” I’ll bet he sobs his way through sonnets, too.

“Excellent. See you at seven.”

With a salute of a wave, Teague eyed her pj’s one last time, his grin deliberately teasing, then left.

Mina, meanwhile, decided to tackle the obvious. “Riordan. Get in here.” She hissed it, waiting until the dog trotted into
her bedroom before closing the door.

“You do like to order me around, lady.”

“Yeah, I know. And if you weren’t playing hell with my life right now, I might find it in my heart to be nicer to you.”

He gave her big, sad puppy dog eyes, spoiled by the sulfurous glow emanating from their eerie depths. “You were nicer to me
last night. Has something changed?”

“Yeah. See, last night I thought you were tied to me metaphorically, as in, can’t leave my house or always in my head. Now
you tell me I’m tied to you physically? You can’t leave me? And you can’t poof yourself into disembodiment?”

“Well, disembodiment is out—I already explained that—and as for the other . . . Unless I’m performing the puca ride ritual—which
is tied up in more red tape than you want to think about—I have to stay within certain physical bounds.”

She frowned. “How narrow are these bounds?”

“Let’s see, shall we?” He raced for the door, abruptly rebounding off of it while Mina winced right along with him. “Whoops?
Still getting used to embodiment. Must obey most universal laws. Got it. So, would you mind?” He glanced at the door, then
back at her.

Mina opened it for him, then followed him out into the living room. She could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door,
which she’d at least thought to close last night. Quietly, she opened the front door for him. “So, I wait here?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, and, Riordan? No talking dogs, okay? The guys are right around back.”

Check.
He strutted out onto the porch, with tail and chin high, excitement tautening his entire body.
Oh. Outside. Air.
Grass. Sky. Sunshine. This is awesome. You gotta help me—

And boom, he ran into an invisible wall cutting him off just short of the front porch steps. He sat down hard, thought for
a minute, then glanced back at Mina.
Probably
this building and no farther.

Frowning, she stepped out onto the porch with him and approached the steps.

Riordan stood up again, alert as before. When she descended the stairs, he trotted easily after her, then leapt into the grass
to roll and bark and squirm.

Soon, Mina was laughing and plopping her butt down on the bottom step. For the first time, Riordan looked sincere, oblivious
to her presence and completely guileless. He looked just like a happy canine, his eyes closed, mouth hanging open and all
four paws kicking out at the air and grass. His long tail wagged madly as the furry body squirmed and attacked every itch,
reveled in every texture. Finally, he lay still. He turned a sleepy gaze toward her.
Thank you.

Resting an elbow on her knee, she braced her chin on it. “My pleasure.” And it was. She could feel his joy at finally being
able to physically experience the outdoors again. “So this is how it works? Your boundaries move with me?”

He cocked his head, seeming to ponder something.
Yeah.
That makes a lot of sense now. Akker liked to speak in riddles and
he mentioned something about a moving sphere of freedom? Mobile
cage? I’m not sure of the translation.

“He set out rules for your embodiment and disembodiment when he cursed you?”

The man was a contract attorney before his time. Small print
stuff was his specialty and the bane of my existence in every form.
It would be great if he’d given me a written copy of the rules
himself before he did this, but Druids didn’t believe in writing
stuff down. Not that he would have gone to the trouble for a victim
of his curse anyway.

She nodded. “It must be hard to live by rules you don’t completely understand.”

You said it.

“So if I go inside the house and get dressed, you could still sit out here on the porch without me, right?”

He stilled a moment.
You wouldn’t mind?