Climbing into my ancient Volvo, I turned the key, and the engine sputtered, followed by a thunk. I closed my eyes and tried again, opening them to discover smoke billowing from the hood.
“No!” I jumped out of the car, but before I could hit the latch button to open it up and see what the problem was, I saw the first flame. “Nooo!”
My car was on fire. Of course it was, because my life was hell—a flame’s natural habitat.
I tried to stay calm as I bent to rummage in my purse for my phone. The pendant fell into my line of sight, and I shoved it out of the way. Spotting my phone on the front seat, I silently cursed and prayed to the gods for help as I opened the door to grab it.
But a god didn’t answer.
“That can’t be good,” an amused voice murmured in my ear, the heat of his breath tickling its shell.
I whipped around, colliding into Gage, who caught me smoothly. “What are you doing here?”
“You rang.”
“I didn’t.”
But he tapped the pendant. “Your prayers have been answered. You were asking the gods for help.”
The stupid necklace. “They couldn’t send a fire extinguisher?”
“Clearly, you need me.”
“Believe me, you are the last person I need.” I opened the back door and started digging around until I found an old sweater. Grabbing it, I started toward the front of the car.
“I don’t think it’s cold.” Gage leaned against the side of the car and watched me. Fantastic. A fae jerk had arrived to heckle me.
“I. Need. To. Put. Out. The. Fire.” I might have imagined the hood was his stupid, perfect face as I smacked my sweater against it. Tears smarted my eyes, but I blinked them away. I wouldn’t cry in front of him, even if my life was literally going up in flames. My brother wasn’t speaking to me, my job was on the line, and the man responsible for all of it was watching the whole thing go down like he wished he had a bucket of popcorn for the show.
“I’d let it burn,” he suggested.
“Leave or be helpful!” I shouted at him. I wasn’t certain what was worse: that my car was on fire or Gage’s unwanted commentary.
But he didn’t move. “I am being helpful. This car has lived a good, long life. Let it burn.”
I ignored him and kept beating at the flames, but the fire only spread. I didn’t realize I was crying until his arm wrapped around my waist and dragged me to the safety of the sidewalk. Once we were there, he muttered something under his breath, snapped his fingers, and the fire died out.
But the damage was done. The entire hood was charred black, and if it looked that bad on the outside… Whatever hope I’d had smoldered along with it, but I fanned the last ember into red-hot rage.
“Why didn’t you stop it?” I hurled the question at him as I stared at the ruins of my car.
“You didn’t ask.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. For a second, I only stared up at him, part of me processing the fact that he was here in the real world, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans and looking far too much like the god I’d been calling upon even with his human glamour. Apparently, his sexy magic worked even in my world.
Finally, the rest of me caught up with his words.
“I didn’t ask? Are you fucking kidding me?” I threw the ruined sweater at him. He caught it before it hit his face. “So you’ll only help me when there’s something in it for you. Is that it? You’ve already got my soul. Why help me? I’ve got nothing of value unless you want to bargain for the shirt on my back!”
“Now that could get interesting.”
I hated his arrogant smirk, hated how completely unapologetic he was even now; mostly, I hated him. The hatred boiled inside me until I was shaking, words spewing out of me. “Why did you even come? I tried to kill you last night. Did you honestly think I was calling for you?”
He snorted, stepping away even as his body remained angled between me and the street. “I never know what to expect with you, princess.”
“That makes two of us,” I grumbled. “Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”
It was the only logical course of action after I’d tried to take him out. He had to have reached the same conclusion. And if that’s where this was heading, I’d rather he didn’t toy with his prey for too long.
“I considered it.” The sheer boredom in his voice coupled with that endless smirk told me he actually had.
And maybe it was a couple nights of lost sleep or watching my car’s Viking funeral or just the mere fact that Gage wouldn’t leave me alone, but I tilted my face up to the sky and screamed.
“Cate, it’s just a car,” he said, the smile finally dying.
“‘Just a car’?” I repeated, nearly choking on the words. “Just a car?” I jabbed a finger at the scorched mess. “I spent two years saving up for that car.” The only reason I’d been able to buy it was because the windows didn’t roll down. Some days, I could barely afford the gas. More than once, the insurance had lapsed because money was too tight that month. But it was my car, the closest thing I’d ever had to a ticket out of New Orleans.
And he had let it burn in front of me.
“You can have one of mine,” he said.
I detonated. “I don’t want your car or you or any of this!” I ripped the necklace off and threw it at him. It bounced off his chest and landed on the street.
Some of his glamour slipped, his tattoos shifting as he glowered at me. His jaw tensed, shadows filling his eyes. “We’ve been over this. The bargain cannot be broken, and you are required to wear that to fulfill your end of the bargain. No exceptions.”
“I thought you were some powerful fae prince, but you couldn’t grant Channing’s freedom without stealing mine? Your bargain doesn’t work without some stupid necklace?” I planted my hands on my hips. “I think you’re full of it. I think the Gage family—”
“Be careful what you say about my family in this city.”
“What do you care?”
“I care because I own New Orleans. Because someone is always listening,” he hissed, grabbing me by the shoulders and yanking me closer. “What you say matters—”
“Like that I hate this city almost as much as I hate the family that runs it?”
He winced.
“Or that you prey on—”
“Careful,” he interrupted, the word drawn out low and deadly as he leaned closer, his dark gaze fixed on mine. A shiver raced down my spine but not in fear.
It was a testament to how stressed I was, because all of a sudden what I wanted was for this man to make me forget. Forget my shitty car. Forget my shitty suspension from work. Forget the shitty lies I’d told my brother. Even forget this shitty little bargain. I just wanted to say “fuck it” and give in to the need pulsing between us and forget.
Our eyes met, and for a second I swore I saw understanding, as though he knew exactly what I wanted but would never ask for, before his mouth smashed into mine. The kiss cut off my breath and stole the words from my lips. And then my senses lit up like a live wire and instinct took over.
If I’d thought I’d reacted to him before…
Stupid, fucking, sexy magic.
Copyright © 2024 Geneva Lee
The dark, decadent underworld of New Orleans comes alive when a human unwittingly binds herself to the devious prince of the Unseelie Court. To win her freedom, she must join the Wild Hunt and fight her way through a series of deadly rites -- without losing her head, or her heart, in the process. Don’t miss Filthy Rich Fae, the first in a new romantasy series from New York Times bestselling author Geneva Lee, for fans of A Touch of Darkness and A Court of Thorns and Roses.
Romance Paranormal [Entangled: Amara, On Sale: June 25, 2024, Trade Paperback / e-Book, ISBN: 9781649375773 / eISBN: 9781649375780]
GENEVA LEE is the New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling author of over thirty novels. Her bestselling Royals Saga has sold nearly four million copies worldwide. She's shamelessly addicted to recovering alpha males, headstrong heroines, and drop-your-jaw plot twists. People Magazine calls Geneva's books "convincing with fluid writing that's full of drama." When she isn't writing or reading, you might find her on another adventure with her real-life hero and their three kids.
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