Read The Hob (The Gray Court 4) Online

Authors: Dana Marie Bell

The Hob (The Gray Court 4) (10 page)

BOOK: The Hob (The Gray Court 4)
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“One survived? Shit. Does the Fear Dearc know?”

“I have no idea. Lord Raven doesn’t exactly come to my tea parties.”

Robin picked up his bag and moved closer to the speakers. If they were aware of the surviving redcap, they might be aware of Michaela as well, and that would not do. McNeil would destroy her and leave nothing but bones behind.

“We need to tell him. Deal with it, McNeil.”

“What was that, Wyght? Which one of us is in charge again?”

The silky threat in the water horse’s voice was clear to Robin, but Wyght didn’t appear to notice. “I’ll be bringing that little fact up with Her soon. You’ll be sent packing. Why you were even allowed out of that loch you were haunting, I’ll never understand.”

“Maybe because I’m more useful than some pansy fairy with his head in the clouds.” McNeil laughed, the sound surprisingly sweet. “That doesn’t work on a fae of the water, Wyght.”

Robin tilted his head in surprise, but kept his gaze glued to the knitwear on the table he’d moved to. McNeil was resistant to a Sidhe’s glamour? Intriguing. He’d been aware water fae had a slight resistance to mental manipulation, but to find one who laughed in a Sidhe’s face? He was either older than Robin had assumed, and therefore careless with his kills, or he had some special resistance Robin was unaware of. He’d have to ask Duncan when next he saw the Sidhe Lord. Duncan, at just over five hundred years old, was a powerful Sidhe, one who could influence any but the strongest of minds.

“Be aware, any one of these seemingly innocent humans could be the Hob. From now on, we stay silent unless we’re in the privacy of our rooms. No more panicking, Wyght. I mean it. You wouldn’t want your Clan to be without a leader, would you?” There was a sweet-sounding chuckle, and the sound of footsteps. The scent of
each uisge
faded, leaving the sour stench of fear behind.

“One day, I’m going to cut him up and turn him into glue.”

Robin grinned and heartily concurred.

Chapter Eight

“Michaela?”

She turned, dazzled once more by Ringo’s good looks and winsome smile, but something about his appearance bothered her. The diamond studs in his ears were hot, but… “Are you wearing lip gloss?”

Ringo put his hand to his mouth, wiped it, and showed her his palm. It was clean, the shine she’d imagined no longer present. “Why on earth would I wear lip gloss?”

She relaxed. She’d probably just imagined it. Ringo wouldn’t make a date with her and then be with someone else. Would he? “At a fairy convention? You have to ask?”

Moira, who’d stuck with her most of the day, giggled. She’d made a hell of a companion, snarky and sweet at just the right moments. She’d turned some surprisingly dull workshops into something Michaela would remember for a long time to come.

“Believe me, my sweet. My interest is solely in the fairer sex.”

She tilted her head, and forever after she’d say the devil made her do it. “You could be a transvestite, like Eddie Izzard.”

Ringo blinked, his expression shocked. Maybe she shouldn’t tease him.

Jaden, on the other hand, had the most impish grin on his face. “You know, there are a lot of movie titles that would be a lot more fun if the word transvestite were part of it.
Day of the Transvestite Triffids
, for instance.”

Moira grinned. “
The Transvestite Son of the Mask
.”


Freddie the Transvestite Got Fingered
.” Michaela stumbled as Ringo came to a dead halt. “What?”

Ringo’s dark brows quirked upward. “I thought that movie was made.”

A tall, cool blond put his arms around Jaden and Moira, tugging them close. “There are a lot of movies that would have been better with a transvestite in them. Like
Showgirls
.”

Jaden relaxed into the blond’s embrace. “That
was
a movie about transvestites.”

Michaela shot a look at Ringo, who winked. She turned back to the blond, who was watching her interaction with Ringo with some amusement. “Duncan, I presume?”

“And you must be Michaela.” He held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Moira enjoyed her morning with you. Thank you for that.”

Michaela smiled. The affection on his face for both his partners was obvious. “We had fun, even if she did mock me in wing building class.”

Moira laughed. “I don’t think that instructor will ever recover. She was muttering something about whiskey when we left.”

“Did you give her grief,
amoureaux
?”

Moira gave Duncan an innocent look so patently false Ringo was choking back yet another laugh. “Me?”

Michaela shook her head. “Who’s up for pizza?”

Jaden rubbed his stomach. “Mm. With extra garlic.” When his partners shot him an odd look, he shrugged. “What? I want pepperoni too.”

Michaela jumped when Ringo took her hand and placed it on his arm. “Ignore them, and maybe they’ll disappear.” The trio shot him horrified looks, only relaxing when Ringo laughed. She didn’t understand why; it wasn’t like he could
really
make them disappear.

He escorted her through the hotel’s doors and into the cool city streets. “What trouble did you and Moira get into in wing building class, hmm?”

Michaela pouted up at him. She probably looked as convincing as Moira had not moments earlier. “She didn’t like my color scheme.”

Moira tsk’d. “I don’t know why not. Joker green, limeade, and wake-the-fuck-up yellow are perfect colors for fairy wings, especially when you add confetti like it was rainbow sprinkles.”

“I know, right? And then she tried to get me to do something more dainty and ‘fairy-like’. Pfft. Like she’d know a real fairy if one landed on her small, pointy head.”

For some reason, Jaden found that so amusing he had to stop and lean against the wall until he caught his breath.

Michaela led the way into the pizza place, eager to spend time with Ringo and his friends. But before she could get a table, Duncan’s cell phone vibrated. He made a face as he looked at the caller ID. “Work.”

“Damn.” Moira and Jaden exchanged a look. “Ringo—”

“Go. Protect your husband. I’m certain Michaela and I can find something to do by ourselves.”

The look he shot her was full of heat, and Michaela damn near melted on the spot, her question about why Duncan needed protection forgotten. His eyes… God, his eyes were gorgeous. They were the most beautiful shade of hazel she’d ever seen, more blue than brown. They had a strange glow that
had
to be some kind of freaky light reflection, there and gone again so fast that maybe she’d imagined it.

If she hadn’t seen it before, back when those men had attacked her and Kael and Ringo tried to help her, she would have believed that too. Maybe she was crazy.

Or, and here was a truly crazy thought, maybe Ringo was as magical as he seemed.

“Thanks, Ringo.” Moira patted Michaela’s arm. “We’ll get together later, okay? We have that workshop on Gaelic, so don’t forget.”

“Hmm?” Michaela blinked. Oh, crap. She’d forgotten all about Jaden, Duncan and Moira, so lost in Ringo’s otherworldly gaze she’d been mesmerized. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Ringo’s grin was anything but subtle. He was obviously pleased by her distraction.

Crap. She’d been too obvious in her attraction. Maybe she should tone it down, cancel the date and plan another one. She’d only met him yesterday, but already she was ready to drop her panties and beg for mercy.

“Michaela?”

She could see that too. Ringo over her, loving on her, leaving his mark on her inside and out.

“Michaela.” Her name was breathed into her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Our table is ready.”

Ooh. Table-top sex. She’d always wanted to try that.

Sharp teeth nipped her ear. “I have no idea what is going through your mind, but save it, if you please, for when we are alone.”

Michaela almost moaned. Ringo’s voice sounded…different. More formal, the tone lighter, yet somehow deeper. Wilder, and full of power. She focused back on the real world to find him staring down at her, the blue in his eyes nearly overwhelming the brown.

He wanted her too.

Michaela licked her lips, her breath stuttering when his gaze zeroed in on her tongue. He looked like he could eat her up in one bite.

She might let him.

“Are you hungry?” She whimpered and he stepped closer. “Michaela?”

She licked her lips again. “Pizza.”

He nodded and placed his hand on the small of her back. The heat of his palm was overwhelming. “They have a table for us, my dear.”

“Mm-hmm.” She allowed Ringo to guide her to a table, settling her in the booth before sliding into the seat right next to her. He snuggled as close as humanly possible, his arm draping across the booth behind her, cocooning her in his warmth. She was practically in his lap, but she couldn’t really complain.

God, she was turning into a slut. Ringo tapped his finger on the table, ignoring the menu the waitress placed in front of him as they both asked her for cola. A Ringo-centric slut-puppy with a plastic checkerboard tablecloth fetish.

“You mentioned that you are a nurse.”

Her focus switched to his face, away from those long, graceful fingers with their black fingernails. She frowned.

Black? Huh. Maybe Ringo
had
been wearing lip gloss. Either that or he’d painted them for his costume for the con.

“What kind of nurse?”

“Pediatric.” And that was as far as she was going. When she told people what she did for a living, she got one of two reactions. Horrified grilling, or awe. Like she was some kind of fucking superhero. She was anything but. Those kids? They were the superheroes, not her.

She didn’t want any of that from Ringo. Let him come to want her before she told him about her job.

“I also like to go snowboarding and race dirt bikes.”

He smirked. “Indeed. Those ambulance drivers seemed thoroughly acquainted with your hobbies.”

“I like the speed.” Was that a note of jealousy she detected? “Those guys are my buddies. I know most of the people who work at the hospital, and they’re two of the best. They have my back.”

“And some don’t?” His arm slid over the top of the booth and around her shoulders. That absolute, total focus on her would have creeped her out had it been anyone but Ringo, but for some strange reason his undivided attention didn’t bother her at all.

She leaned in closer to him, basking in his warmth. “Some are total asshats whose only redeeming quality is that they’ll die someday.”

He chuckled silently. “I have a few coworkers like that myself.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m in security.” He grinned. “The waitress is on her way back.”

“Pepperoni?”

“Is there any other kind of pizza?”

“Oh, my kind of guy.”

He nipped her earlobe once more, his teeth remarkably sharp. “I certainly hope so.”

Hell. She wanted to feel those teeth on her neck nibbling away so badly she could almost feel it. She smiled her thanks at the waitress as she handed over their sodas. Michaela picked up hers up and gulped it down in one long swallow.

Ringo placed their order, getting her another soda as well. He seemed amused by her.

Well. Perhaps it was time she seduced him back.

She picked up a piece of ice from her cup and ran it over her lips before sucking it into her mouth. Ringo’s hand tightened on her shoulder before tangling in her hair.

“You’re playing with fire, my dear.”

She held up another piece and licked it. “Good thing I have ice.”

Ringo surprised her by dipping his head and sucking the ice from her fingers. “What ice?”

“I don’t sleep with someone on the first date.”

Now where the hell did that come from? She was
dying
to break her golden rule, especially when the brown in his eyes almost completely disappeared, leaving them blue and clear as glass. She tilted her head, studying his face. Was that a hint of green hidden in the clear blue? She could study those changeable eyes of his forever.

“Good to know.” He licked her fingers, sucking on the tips until she was ready to beg. “I might have to try harder for our second date, then.”

She was going to die happy. She tried to distract herself from the feel of his warm tongue tracing her palm. “You work with Kael?”

He placed a kiss on her wrist before answering. “He’s in training.”

“Ah.” She frowned, some of the bubble they’d wrapped themselves in bursting. “Shouldn’t you be with him?”

His eyes were now completely blue, glowing in the crappy fluorescent lighting. “No.”

Okay then. “I like your eyes.”

Her cheeks began to burn. Apparently her brain-to-mouth filter was in the gutter along with the rest of her mind.

“Thank you.” He looked ridiculously pleased.

She decided to run with it, since he seemed so happy. “I’ve never seen hazel eyes with more blue than brown in them. And yours are such a pale blue, they glow.”

BOOK: The Hob (The Gray Court 4)
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