Shadow Phantoms - H.P. Mallory Page 0,67

says, rather hurriedly and I realize he’s ready to claim his prize. My anxiety increases tenfold and I nod as I put the plate of untouched food on the side table, next to the chair.

“Okay,” I say as I face him expectantly.

But he doesn’t move from his seated position. “Sit.”

“Okay,” I say again and sit, completely unsure of what to say or do. This Herrick Vorst is the most confusing man I’ve ever met. And he makes me nervous.

“I came because you pulled me here,” he says.

“More like the sign outside pulled you here,” I amend, taking a brave stab at humor now that he doesn’t appear too volatile.

He shakes his head slowly, and a few strands of that perfect golden hair escape the leather thong at the base of his neck. It’s distractingly touchable, and I fold my hands primly in my lap to keep myself from touching him.

Somehow my hunger is forgotten for the time being.

“No. You pulled me here,” he insists.

“I don’t understand.”

“I was trying to find the concentrated mass of magic that was hiding in this seemingly unremarkable tavern.”

“Concentrated mass of magic?” I repeat, shaking my head. What is he talking about?

He nods. “Yes. It felt familiar, and I was expecting to find an old friend within these walls. Imagine my surprise when I found a little witchling on stage instead.”

My brow creases as I try to make sense of these bizarre words. Magic? Witchling? What in the name of Avernus is he talking about? There hasn’t been a witch in any of the seven principalities of Fantasia for over a decade. Everyone knows that!

All the noble houses signed off on the decree in the only show of solidarity they’ve been able to display in a hundred years. The only magic users still around are the Shepherds, and they only remain because souls have to go somewhere after death. Not even the royals want spooks hanging around their cities.

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

He sits forward and reaches out, seizing my hand with enough suddenness to draw a startled yelp from me. He smooths his fingers over the back of my palm in a soft apology before he returns his gaze to mine and clasps my hands tightly in his, earnestness in those unnatural eyes.

“What… what are you doing?” I ask, suddenly afraid for the first time since he walked into my room.

“I won’t hurt you, Neva,” he says in a soft voice. “I just need to know what you are. It’s important that Guild members are hidden away in these troubled times.”

“Guild members?”

He nods. “It’s clear you have a connection to Tenebris. I just don’t understand why she’d leave you exposed like this.”

I draw my hands away, and smile up at him sadly as I take a deep breath. He’s clearly mistaken me for someone else. Hopefully he won’t be angry he’s paid so much money for me when he thinks I’m someone else. I’m not sure if I should break the news to him or if Darius should.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” I say and then inhale deeply. “Clearly you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“No,” he starts but I shake my head.

Hmm… this could cause quite the ruckus because I’m more than sure Darius won’t give Herrick his money back. And since that’s the case, Herrick might as well have his chance to enjoy me, given he spent an ungodly amount of money to spend the night in my bed. I stand and walk to him. I might as well get this over with.

“Unfortunately, Darius isn’t the type of man to refund you your money.” I take another deep breath as I approach him, placing each of my hands on the chair arms on either side of him. “I apologize for that, but I would like to try to make it up to you. If you’d kindly let me do my job, I’ll…”

Herrick stops me before I can sling a leg over his lap. His broad, calloused hands brace my waist and I come to a stop with my face inches away from his. I’m sitting on his lap and he’s close enough that the warmth of his breath tickles the loose strands of hair near my ear. My gaze dips unwillingly to that perfect bow-lipped mouth, and I wonder what it would be like to feel that mouth on mine.

“I should go,” he murmurs quietly. “I’ve upset you.”

“Go?” I repeat, suddenly disappointed even though I can’t fathom why. “You haven’t even kissed me,” I remind him.

“It’s okay,” he starts.

“But,” I say. “You paid enough gold for that privilege… and more.”

His gaze dips to my mouth just briefly and I see hunger in his eyes. When I blink again, his eyes are unreadable, his smile enigmatic.

“Gold is abundant and something I can easily find, Neva. A kiss must be earned, not bought.”

He finally smiles widely enough to flash teeth as he lifts me off his lap and sets me on my feet, and I take a wary step away. His canines are sharp enough to unnerve me. He can’t be a vampire, surely. His skin is sun-kissed and his eyes are too bright. Still, there’s something inhuman there.

“You ought to be careful about offering things like kisses to men like me,” he says and there’s a warning in his eyes.

“Why?”

He leans in just enough to tease my cheek with those soft lips. The whisper that traces the shell of my ear makes every part of me go warm and shivery.

“Because men like me are selfish and would steal you away.”

In the next breath, he pulls away and is halfway to the door, throwing me a cheery, “Have a pleasant evening, Ms. Valkoinen.”

“But,” I start again.

He motions to the plate of uneaten food. “Do eat the rest of your supper before that odious man returns.”

The door closes behind him with a barely audible click and I sink into his abandoned chair, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

Only one thought haunts my mind as I absentmindedly finish everything on the plate.

Who in blazes is Herrick Vorst?

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H. P. Mallory is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who started as a self-published author.

She lives in Southern California with her son and two cranky cats, where she’s at work on her next book.

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