You Bet Your Banshee (2 page)

“Magda,” a deep, hypnotizing voice said from the darkness next to me.

My heart pounded and my mouth went dry. I didn’t recognize the voice, but the power in his tone was undeniable. I wanted to keep walking. Hell, I wanted to run, except my muscles froze. I’m not a complete coward. I knew how to fight, all banshees are amazing swordswomen, but I was weaponless and the power in that voice proved impossible to ignore. I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, turning my head to peer into the deep shadows next to the community center.

A figure slipped out of the darkness. He moved with lethal grace, his footsteps silent on the broken glass scattered over the concrete. His power hit me square in the face like a big slap of reality. I backed away as he neared. The power quickly receded as though he realized he was scaring me. Not that it was hard. He was a hulk of a man.

He had to be nearly a foot taller than me and twice as wide. Not fat or even pudgy. No, he was all muscle. It scared the shit out of me to be honest. I recognized him, though when I’d seen him earlier, his face had been mostly in shadow. It was the other newbie, the halfling. Eerie blue eyes stared at me, looking way too light for the darkness of his hair and deeply tanned skin. I tried looking away from him because you can’t run if you’re staring behind you, but that didn’t work worth a damn.

He stopped five feet from me and shoved hands as big as dinner plates into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m sorry,” he said in a purposely calm voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” Unlike Phineas, this guy didn’t have the elf’s ability for suggestion because I was still scared.

My throat made a click sound as I swallowed. I continued staring at him, feeling a bit like David facing down Goliath, except I didn’t have a slingshot.

His lips, soft-looking lips, curled back in a grimace exposing sharp incisors. Overly long, shaggy black hair fell around his not-quite-handsome, but attractive face. Again, heat stirred in the pit of my stomach as I noticed how really…well, sexy he was.

“Who are you?” I asked like I wasn’t about to pee on myself.

He froze with his hand halfway to his hair. The black jacket he wore gaped, showing off his broad chest covered in a tight T-shirt with diamond hard nipples visible beneath the fabric. I stared at those stubby points for a moment before dropping my eyes. I knew it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the cold considering my own nipples were in the same condition from the freezing wind.

I was not turned on, no sir. It was definitely the weather.

“I’m Ryvan Keller,” the big man said, pushing his hand through his thick hair. The move showed more than washboard abs. It also revealed pointed ears. He was an elf, though I’d never seen one as big as him. “I’ve been trying to track you down for years.”

I took a wary step back. I should have recognized him for what he was the instant I felt his power, but in my defense, I’d been living in the mortal world for awhile. The only Fairworlders I ran into these days were weak from living on this plain of existence. Ryvan was full to the brim of power and he’d been tracking me.

He was a Repo elf, had to be. “I paid off my debts before I left Fairworld,” I stammered, stumbling back another step. “I didn’t bring anything with me that I wasn’t supposed to. I swear.”

Oh, I did
not
like the way his eyebrows lowered, or how his eyes blazed even brighter. “I know that. I’m not here because of a debt.”

Somehow that didn’t make me feel any better. I didn’t want to find out why he was stalking me. I just wanted him to take his sexy ass back to Fairworld and let me live in peace.

I’d taken two steps away from him when he said, “You have to return to Fairworld.”

My heart seized with sudden, unadulterated fear. There was no reason for me to return to Fairworld unless it was to receive punishment for running, or execution for abandoning my people.

Adrenaline shot through my body. My tear ducts might be fucked up, but my flight or fight responses were keen. I tensed to spring away from him, my mind already working out a way to lose the elf as I ran for home. Before I moved, something barreled into me from behind. Ryvan’s eyes widened, dangerous sparks flaring near the pupils, but I fell before I could see more.

I hit the ground with a bounce, my head slamming into the concrete. Everything swam before my dazed eyes. I felt crushing pressure on my back seconds before it was torn away. Vicious snarling and growling filled the air around me, but darkness encroached. I don’t remember anything else after that.

A crash sounded nearby and I sat straight up, a scream on my lips. The sound never made it out of my mouth because I wasn’t where I should have been. My big butt should have been laid out on the sidewalk in front of the Thomas Guillory Gym, but I was in bed. My bed.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I peered into the deep shadows of my room. Everything looked normal. My window was closed and locked, the thin curtains doing little to hold back the bitter cold. The sky beyond was a deep violet with the faintest hint of orange. Dawn was coming, but I had the sense something more sinister was waiting for me. Not the sunlight, but danger.

My heart slammed against my breastbone. I’d always been a technical failure as a banshee, but I had good instincts and they were telling me Ryvan had something to do with the danger haunting me. I turned my senses outward to find out if he was here in my tiny apartment, but I felt nothing.

I relaxed slightly. It must have been a dream. The banshee queen did not tolerate weaknesses or failure, hence me being called before her constantly. She wouldn’t have accepted one of her flunkies putting a runaway banshee to bed. No, Ryvan had been a figment of my imagination, a reminder of Fairworld I brewed up because of that meeting.

Something jumped in my bed and this time I did scream. It was a piercing shriek that would have made any banshee proud, but it only made Breeze, my cat, yowl with displeasure.

“Oh shit.” I planted my hand over my heart to keep it in my chest. “Oh fuck, you scared the shit out of me!”

Breeze, named for Drew Brees, curled into a twenty-five pound ball and proceeded to clean himself. He always did that when he knew he was in trouble, which was constantly. The little stray I’d rescued when I emerged from Fairworld had grown into a tomcat to beat all tomcats, in his mind, because Breezy lived in the same fantasy world I did. It was one where nothing bothered us and we were masters of all we surveyed. Yeah, the cat and I had a lot in common.

Falling back on my pillow, I stared at my ceiling. Too much excitement—real or imagined—in too short a time left me feeling jittery. If I were an athletic kind of woman, I’d take a jog to work off some of the adrenaline. But as I’d told my grandmother when she decided I needed to slim down, I refuse to run unless it’s on pain of death. And even then, I’m not sure I’d do it. How undignified would that look when whatever I was running from caught up with me? No, I don’t run unless I have no other choice, like when I ran from the Court that last time.

The jitteriness remained, making my fingers tremble.

Sex would have helped the case of nerves, especially sex with the fictional Ryvan. I sighed, feeling that powerful tingle between my legs again. Boy, when I dreamed up a man, I did a damn good job if I said so myself. He’d been…just the kind of brutal man I would have stupidly fallen for back in Fairworld.

My taste in men sucked.

Breeze made his slow, prodding, painful way up my legs. I needed to put him on a diet something terrible, but I loved how chunky he was, except when he walked on me. Those little paws did not distribute his weight very well. Once he found his favorite spot, the center of my chest, he sat down and stared at me.

“She would have hated you,” I told him with a scratch of his chin. The queen had taken everything away from me in a bid to call forth tears. She’d killed anything I felt affection for, destroyed anything I held dear, and I never shed a tear. I hadn’t lied when I said they’d tried every type of torment to get me to cry.

And that’s why I hadn’t dated at all since coming to the mortal plain. Well, that and the fight to survive had taken up all my time. I was a little more settled now, but the only men I met these days were customers at Spankalicious and I’m sorry, but having men constantly tell me they had a pole for me to ride while shaking their dicks at me wasn’t my idea of good date talk.

The sun peeked over the horizon casting its golden rays over the dreary landscape of New Orleans in winter. Another day had arrived. Joy.

I hefted Breeze off my chest ignoring his grunt. I climbed out of bed and put him in the spot I’d just vacated. His slightly crossed green eyes stared up at me before he curled into a ball again. Sometimes he was so easy to please. If only my queen had been the same. I snorted at the thought of Queen Melosia overweight and happy because someone rubbed her stomach.

The floor was cold beneath my feet as I hurried to the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on. Everything looked normal. Cheap and depressing, but normal. I could have afforded something better since I started stripping, but that would require signing things like leases and possible background checks. Since I was technically on the run, cheap and depressing was the best I could do at the moment. It was home, drafty and dirty, but home. The saggy sofa, the small table with one chair, the sink filled with dishes I refused to wash until I ran out of plates. No fairy cleaners had appeared out of thin air to clean my place. Again. Dammit.

I loaded the filter to the brim with Community Dark Roast coffee and filled the reservoir. The only item worth anything in the apartment, other than my palace uniform and sword, was my coffeemaker. Fairworlders didn’t drink it because they could use their power to give them a kick start. I’d become addicted to the stuff as soon as I crossed over.

On my way to the bathroom for a shower, I kicked a pile of clothes out of my way. I promised myself I’d do laundry sometime this month. Okay, maybe this week. I was running out of things to wear. Damn, but I missed having servants to clean up after me. I’d never realized how messy I was until I lived on my own.

It was a wonder Breeze didn’t get lost in the piles of clothes all over the place, but he seemed to like it. He frequently hid in the piles waiting for me to walk by so he could pounce. If I cleaned all the time, I’d deprive my poor, fat cat of his one means of entertainment. See? I can make excuses for anything.

The water took a while to warm up, but then I was used to that as well. Stepping back into the bedroom to strip, I paused. Dark bruises covered the front of my body. Moving to the mirror above the sink, I saw a scrape healing on my forehead.

It hadn’t been a dream.

“Don’t freak out,” I told my pale reflection. “Obviously, Ryvan realized he had the wrong banshee and…brought you home and left.”

Yeah, right. I braced my hands on the sink, staring at the rust stain around the drain. As much as I wish I could, I couldn’t lie to myself. Ryvan Keller was real and he’d brought me home, only to disappear again. Why bother if he was supposed to bring me back to Fairworld? Why in the hell would the Court want me back anyway? They’d made their feelings about me, and my continued existence, very clear. If they wanted me back, it was only so they could finish me off.

Breeze’s rumbling purr announced his arrival in the bathroom. He gave my leg a cursory rub before hopping on the toilet and then onto the sink to stare at me.

“Why didn’t you sit on him?” I accused the cat as I ripped off my clothes. “You could’ve…I don’t know, done something!”

He chirped and blinked unconcerned green eyes at me.

“You probably rubbed all over him,” I muttered as I stepped under the lukewarm spray of the shower. “Sometimes I wish I would’ve gotten a dog.”

Merew?

“I know, banshees and dogs do not get along, but at least a ball-licking dog would’ve barked or howled or something to let me know there was someone in my apartment.” I scrubbed myself, ignoring the puckered scars on my torso. I’d have to buy some more glamour juice if I was going to keep my job at the club. “One day you’re going to have to start pulling your weight, Breezy. This can’t be an all take relationship on your side, you know. This is a partnership. I feed you, you…do something. Got it?”

Mrrrow.

“What will you do if that elf comes back, huh? He plans to take me to Fairworld and then where’ll you be? Hungry, that’s where.” I rinsed off, glad I didn’t have to shave. I don’t know how mortal women did it. I’d never get anything done if I had to shave my legs. I guess there was a plus side to being a banshee. “So you and I have to come to an agreement. You let me know if we have intruders and I keep feeding you the good stuff, okay?”

A rumbling purr, loud enough to hear over the trickling shower, was my answer. Pleased with our daily conversation, I shut off the water and stepped out of the tub. Breeze arched his back, barely keeping his balance on the edge of the sink. I loved that damn lazy cat and he knew it.

I opened the medicine cabinet over his head and grabbed the little bottle of Scar-Gone Glamour. I had maybe three gulps left before I’d need to buy more. That was going to cost, but at least now I made decent money. I took my dose, shuddering at the bitter taste.

Dropping my towel on the floor I stared down at my torso and watched the scars fade away. The glamour would last for fifteen hours. It would be enough time for me to go to work, make a few hundred bucks in tips, and hit Phineas’s store for a glamour spell as well as a protection ward before coming home.

Ryvan wouldn’t get into my apartment so easily next time.

The ogre who lived down the hall stared at me like a rabid dog when I tiptoed by his door. I really hated having him as a neighbor, but at least I didn’t have to worry about gang fights with him around. Since I’d been living in the complex longer than the ogre, he considered me part of the property. Now if he just kept to his side of the hall, I’d be happy.