Don't Touch My Men - Helen Scott Page 0,43
Rumpelstiltskin might trade for,” Alastair said from the back row. “But you guys need to let me do the negotiating.”
“Yes, sir!” I said.
He finally looked up from his laptop, and his gaze connected with mine. All humor faded away. Alastair was different from before I left. Whatever was between us was different. I just couldn’t put my finger on how.
The sun was setting behind the mountains when we entered the city. The orange and red that painted the sky was beautiful, but something about this city made me uneasy. It seemed to be cloaked by a malevolent force, just like where the Horseman was holed up, which told me that something evil was lurking in the shadows of this place.
I just hoped we could get in and out without making another enemy.
A half an hour later, we were pulling up to a really shitty looking building tucked in a bad part of town. The place looked like the kind of area a city just pulled back from and pretended didn’t exist. If I were to bet, the shady people of the town owned this part of the city, like gods among men. Life was different before I was pulled into the mirror realm, but there were places like this even back then.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Hunter asked, glancing back at Alastair as he closed his laptop and shoved it into a case.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, sounding tired.
We all climbed out, and Hunter helped Alastair without a word. The wizard was looking more than just a little exhausted, but when Hunter tried to take one of the two bags off his shoulder, Alastair shook his head. The four of us walked up to the building, and Ellis opened the door, which jangled as we entered.
Inside was a place crammed full of stuff. Weird things sat on every shelf, and there was a counter around the back, with locked up shelves behind it. A man came out of the back, but he looked nothing like the Rumpelstiltskin I imagined. For one, he was tall, and couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty. He had tanned skin, freckles, gold eyes, and a slight point to his ears that told me he wasn’t human.
“Can I help you?” he asked, and there was a professionalism to his question that surprised me.
“I’m Alastair,” the mage said, pushing through us to approach the counter. “I spoke to a Mr. Rumpelstiltskin earlier.”
“That’s my father,” the man said. “I’m Crax, but maybe I can help you.”
Alastair’s shoulders sank. “He knew what I was here for.”
“What?” the man asked, lifting a brow.
Alastair glanced around, as if making certain no one was listening. “The map to the Battle of Bloodshed.”
His entire body stiffened. “We don’t have it.”
“I know you do,” Alastair said, not backing down. “The last time it was purchased was by your father.”
“Everyone who buys that map dies,” Crax said, not directly answering his question.
Alastair’s expression grew thunderous. “I want to talk to Rumpelstiltskin. He said if I came, we could talk.”
The man’s jaw worked. “My father would tell you anything to get you here. Making deals is the most important thing in the world to him, no matter who he hurts in the process.”
Alastair leaned across the counter. “That’s who I need right now. Not some asshole telling me that he doesn’t have the map when I know he’s lying.”
“Take a deep breath,” Hunter mumbled next to him.
I suddenly heard something hit the floor and turned to see Ellis with some weird wooden thing on the ground. “Oops,” he said, but he doesn’t look or sound sorry. “Sometimes I’m like a bull in a china shop. I just keep breaking things.” Holding the man’s gaze, he knocked another item off the shelf.
Crax let out a low growl. “Careful, unless you want to sell your soul to replace any broken items.”
Ellis lifted a brow. “I know how your kind work. I’m not making a deal with you, so I don’t owe you anything.”
The air rushed out of the room, and for one second, I was pretty damned sure there was going to be a fight. But then the bell over the door jingled, and a short man came walking in. One of his hands clenched a girl’s doll, the other hand held a tiny glowing jar.
“Two deals in one day! A beloved doll to ‘get rid of the monsters’ under some girl’s bed, and the soul of a—” He stopped talking when he saw