Curse It (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 1), page 4
"You are in no position to threaten me, witch." He sat up, crossing his arms. A grim smile teased at the corners of his mouth.
"Not at the moment, no, but do you want Pammy coming after you if you harm me?"
“I do not fear Pammy.”
“Then you’re in the minority. I would have guessed someone as old as you would know better.”
His eyebrow quirked. "How would you know my age?"
"I don't, but your hint of an accent means you’re fairly old."
He inclined his head slightly and I took that for a confirmation. "I do not wish for issues with Pammy. Some things, however, cannot be swept under the rug. At the end of the day, I doubt Pammy would be stupid enough to try anything against me."
He was either high up in goblin politics or a great liar if he didn’t care about starting an incident with the witches. My palms began to sweat. I wanted to think it was because they were bound together, but I knew better. I reached deep inside myself and found my inner snark.
"Yadda, yadda, yadda. Yes, goblins are scary."
"You are impertinent."
"Yep, now can you untie me? I didn't steal your safe. I brought it home from a murder scene to try using a trace spell on it to track down the murderer."
"Why do you insist my safe was involved in a murder? What happened? Was it like a cartoon where the safe was dropped on someone? I smelled no blood, and I assure you, the safe is rather heavy, so there would have been blood."
I rolled my eyes. "A woman was found bound in it. She might have suffocated in it, or possibly been poisoned, and then put in it. Either way, it’s obviously a piece of evidence. Now that I know it was stolen from the goblins, it makes it even more intriguing. Once I process it, you can have it back."
He simply stared at me. Okay then, he apparently didn't think it was that simple. "Why would I leave my valuables with you? From its present location, I doubt you understand its worth."
My eye started twitching; the sleep deprivation, a possible concussion, and a self-important goblin made my patience run thin. Bound as I was, there was no way to vent my frustration, hence the eye twitch. "You say that decorative chest is a safe. From what I understand about safes, it's not the safe that's valuable, but what's in it. Yours contained one of my people. Finding her killer is worth a lot more to me than a giant hunk of metal."
His eyes flashed again. If he kept that up, he could get a job as a traffic signal. "Perhaps you do not realize the importance of metals in my world."
This was going nowhere. I silently began to hit my head against the armrest on the sofa.
"That won't help your headache."
How does he know about my headache? Oh right, he slammed my face into a door, safe assumption.
He was probably right, but I wanted to hit something and the only thing I could hit was my head. Since it already pounded, I didn't see the harm. The eye twitch hadn't been nearly as satisfying. I stopped though because I needed to talk my way out of this mess. If nothing else, so I could take two aspirin and return to bed. Even if sleep wasn’t advisable with the possible concussion.
"I’m not in the business of securing valuables. I’m in the business of protecting witches. I have no idea how much a safe would cost. I’d guess around five grand. I'm sure the Coven would give you a deposit, since you’re worried."
He laughed at me. His deep laugh would have been infectious if it wasn't also bone chilling. "Stupid, stupid witch. That safe is worth closer to a million. The gold on it alone is worth more than five grand," he sneered.
The derision in his voice made me want to say fuck it with the diplomatic approach. It wasn’t working anyway, but I needed to get released eventually and didn't want to be carted off to his lair along with the safe. I didn't think that was a possibility, but my mouth had gotten me into some fairly bad places. Finding his lair might make it worth it, if I could bust out.
"Sorry, I guess I'll do my homework the next time I run into a goblin safe."
"You'll never see one again."
"Are you threatening to kill me?"
"Not at the moment, but the safes are treasured, and I doubt a goblin would let you near his."
"Challenge accepted."
"Little girl, you would be wise to forget this. Protect your own people and do not pry into a world you could not survive in."
I snorted. I didn't want to be involved in the goblin world, their hierarchy was downright archaic. They still had a queen for God's sake. "I'll take that under advisement."
He shifted closer to me, and whereas before his manner had been purely menacing, he now studied me in earnest. He looked me over from my purple-painted toenails to the top of my head. His stare lingered on my hips and breasts and turned heated. A blush burned my cheeks. Great, apparently sarcasm and stupidity turned him on. He wasn’t bad to look at, but if I were going to be tied up, I wouldn't have chosen zip ties as the instrument. Plus, the entire caveman display of being grabbed by the hair, knocked unconscious, and dragged into a cave, or in this case my living room, wasn’t great foreplay.
I hadn't heard the rumble of Bruce’s truck, but Lola was suddenly calling through the front door. "Peg, are you up? Why didn't you come to Bruce's to play poker? I thought you were going to bed."
The goblin tensed, obviously readying to attack either physically or magically.
"Lola, do not come in here. Leave right now." My voice was shrill.
She paid me no attention and came in. I heard the not-so-quiet shutting of the front door before she appeared in the entryway. The goblin, who had been ready to pounce, visibly relaxed and sat down again on the coffee table.
Huh?
"Hey, Deval. I didn't know you knew Peg." Her blinding smile made my head throb more as I strained my neck to look at her. Of course she knew this deviant. He was probably her adopted second cousin.
Lola finally clued in to my predicament. "Oh, I'm sorry, Peg. I didn't realize you two were playing sex games. You knew I was coming back here tonight. Why didn't you stay in your bedroom, or put a sock on the door, you kinky minx?"
5
"Really, Lola?" My cheeks flamed.
The goblin, apparently named Deval, gave me a scathing look. "You should be so fortunate."
I wished I wasn’t tied up so I could give him the bird. Lola seemed completely oblivious to our exchange. Lola biffed it when she went from the tile of the entry to the carpet of the living room. Normally she had no issues with the texture change. Drunk Lola, on the other hand, would trip over a grain of rice. That explained her lack of awareness. She had been about to nail her head on the coffee table when the goblin gallantly stood and caught her. What a fucking gentleman.
Lola hiccupped and patted his shoulder in thanks before turning and plopping down on my calves. If they weren't numb from being tied in an awkward position, it probably would have hurt, but because they were numb, it was just aggravating. If I had been in the middle of a sex game, why would Lola decide to crash the party? Then I heard soft snoring.
Craning my neck, I looked and sure enough, she had passed out. Bruce had given her tequila again. I rolled my eyes, and the goblin laughed. Apparently he had been watching me.
"Now that we're buddies, would you mind untying me?"
"Why would you think we are now ‘buddies’?"
"Well, you didn't clobber Lola. That feels like an olive branch to me."
"Lola is a ward of my people; I would not harm her unless she broke our laws, besides I know she would never be stupid enough to steal from me, even if she is a bit naive."
That was polite because Lola could be a complete ditz. Anytime I mentioned that she held a master's degree in Mining Engineering, the reaction was always "Really?" It tended to be awkward because then I spent five minutes convincing them I wasn't joking. She was actually good at her job, and no, they didn't need to call their second cousin twice removed to advise him to go work at a different company for fear that the walls were going to collapse on them at any minute.
"I know she was raised with you guys. We've been best friends since we were twelve and I always had to host the sleepovers because you wouldn't let me come to goblin land."
"Holding a grudge?"
"Pssh, grudge smudge, my sleepovers are awesome; you guys missed out."
"Is that an invitation?" His dry tone suggested he wouldn’t be RSVPing.
"No, it's an invitation to untie me. I've known Lola for fifteen years. Do you think she'd be friends with me if I was a raging klepto with a suicidal streak thrown in?"
"Suicidal?"
"If I was a thief, I wouldn't steal from goblins, or vampires, or fae. If I was a thief, I'd go after humans because they're the easiest prey."
"Thinking about a bank robbery?"
"Right now, bank robbing would beat my current job, because at least then I would have feeling in my hands!" I shouted.
Lola mumbled in her sleep and fell further on top of me pushing me further into the cushions. At that point I gave up and turned my face into the cushions. I would smother myself. Thirty seconds later, I realized I must have a will to live because I was lifting my chin slightly so I could breathe.
Something rustled behind me, and I felt Lola lifted off of me. Before I could see where he stashed her, the cool feel of metal slid between my wrist and the hard plastic zip tie. Then he did the same for my ankles.
I sat up slowly and began to massage my shoulders, knowing at any minute the blood rushing to them would bring agony. Deval began to say something, but I lifted my inflamed arm and held up an index finger. I needed a minute, and he should be happy I didn't give him a different finger. I didn't need to be trussed up again, so I practiced good behavior.
It must have been five minutes, but he waited patiently while I rubbed my extremities and bit my lip through the pain. When all that left was a slight tingle in my skin, I looked up and met his eyes. "So, I take it I am no longer on the menu?"
"Figure of speech. Goblins aren't cannibals."
"I knew that, deep in my subconscious, but when I wake up to strange men sitting on my bed threatening to eat me, I tend to get concerned."
"Does that happen to you often?"
"Hmm?"
"Strange men threatening to eat you."
"Nope, most threaten to strangle me. You're the first to suggest making me a snack."
"I take it you aren't a regular at the Poppy Den then?"
"If you're asking if I'm a blood junkie, the answer is no, and you should be able to tell from my lack of clothing that I don't have the telltale scars."
He raised an eyebrow. "You do however have a bite mark on your collar bone."
Damn, he was observant. I shivered, an old fear surfacing briefly. The bite had come after we rescued my aunt. One of her former "friends" came by to check on her. When she was indisposed, he saw me riding my bike and went for a snack. Thank gods he was a low-level vamp, and my parents were strong in their magic. That wasn't something this guy needed to know, however.
"Someone mistakenly thought I was a meal, and you'll notice the tearing along the bite scar. He didn't get the meal he was looking for."
"Must have been painful. Right on the collarbone."
It had been excruciating; the vamp broke my collarbone. Why was he digging? "It did more than tickle, but I survived."
"You consider yourself a survivor?"
"What is this? Twenty questions?" He had gone from my attacker to psychoanalyst. What was his deal?
"Just curious." He held up his hands in supplication.
"I do have a strong desire to live; I think all witches do. We all sense that our lives are supposed to be longer than they are because our immortality was stolen from us." I decided to humor him.
Interest shone in his eyes. "Not many witches would admit that. Still, the curse was long ago, so why yearn for something you should never have expected to have?"
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the turn I had taken the conversation. “Who knows? Now, do you know anything about a witch named Violet Williams?" I needed this conversation to get back on track.
"No, should that name be familiar to me?"
I looked him dead in the eyes. I’d always heard that you could tell when people were lying. I thought of myself as a good reader of people, but he’d probably learned a few tricks over the centuries.
"Well, she was found dead in that fancy chest of yours."
"That is a bit disconcerting, but I don't believe there was any damage to my safe, so I will get over it."
"I can tell you're really sensitive to the human condition."
He shrugged. "Ah, but she was not human; she was a witch. Witches tend to hide behind the fragility their mortal bodies burden them with, but it could be argued as far as magic goes, they were blessed with far more than their share. That being said, I am sure your victim was not innocent." That was a rather bold statement from someone who claimed not to know the victim.
"I thought you didn't know her."
"I didn't, but she must have been involved in something if she was given a coffin worth so much. Symbolically speaking, there was a message here. Perhaps I am overthinking it, but if you did not steal my safe, then someone with enough connections to my home, my inner sanctum, was involved. My people would not risk so much for nobody."
"Are you sure someone wasn't trying to piss you off?"
Something passed in his eyes. It looked like doubt but was quickly gone. He didn't want to believe it was personal. He wanted to blame Violet.
"No, goblins are loyal," he said a little too quickly
"If you say so. Have you pissed off any vampires lately?"
The question appeared to surprise him. "I am sure I have since they are the scourge of the magic users, parasites. Even after the witches’ curse, we would not ally ourselves with them."
He wasn’t telling me anything new. "There was a poppy found with the body as well."
"Interesting." His voice felt intentionally blank.
"That's all you've got? Interesting?" I leaned into the cushions, frustrated.
"Well, did you want me to jump up and yell ‘eureka’? There have been no clashes with my people recently. At least none that I have heard of."
"Okay. Would you allow me to keep the chest and run an aura trace spell on it?"
He waited a moment, obviously thinking before he answered. Goblins could control earth, but his magic wasn't fluid like mine. He was right; when it came to magic witches were the superior magical race. Perhaps I was being ethnocentric, but our magic was malleable. With enough intuition, practice, and power, there wasn't much we couldn't do.
"I do see hiring you as a smart choice," he finally grumbled.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. "Listen, bub, I’ve already been hired. If you were my client as well, it would be a conflict of interest."
"Very noble of you, but as my interests are also concerned, I would like to know that you will also focus on the thief."
"I’m already interested in the thief. You paying me wouldn't make a difference."
"If you want to keep my property, I need to know you owe me some allegiance."
"I don't want to keep it. I want to perform one spell on it and get it the hell out of my Arizona room."
"You will not be paid unless you find the thief."
"I don't want to be paid at all." That wasn't true, but Pammy wouldn't be happy if I was double dipping.
"Are you sure about that?" He looked around my home with an assessing gaze.
That was insulting, and if I were a shifter, I was pretty sure I would have grown hair and bristled.
"It may not be the Ritz, but I like my home."
"It is…charming. But home ownership can be expensive; it's nice to have insurance should trouble come knocking."
"You're already here, and I don't recall you knocking." It hit me then. How had he gotten past my wards? "Speaking of which, how the hell did you get in here?"
He smiled then, his eyes glistening with genuine mirth. "Aw, little witch, your people are not the only ones with secrets." With that he stood up and walked to my front door.
I dogged his heels. "Seriously, how did you get in?"
He simply chuckled and walked outside to a sleek black SUV, the driver illuminated in the vehicle patiently waiting for Deval. He called back over his shoulder, "Have Lola give you my number. I'll expect regular progress reports."
6
I stood on the porch and watched him climb in the passenger seat of a black SUV. My escape would have been thwarted even if I'd made it out the front door. Captain Jackass and his minion pulled away from my house. I walked to the front door and placed my hand on the frame calling my wards. I found them present and intact. For once I wished they’d been stripped or broken.
They had taken weeks to carefully lay. Broken wards would be better than the mystery before me. The goblin found a way in, which meant my defenses were compromised.
I called my power. It came slowly, my body exhausted from the night's activities. I shut the wards down and charged them again. Logic said it wouldn't make a difference, but my sleep-deprived mind wanted to believe my wards behaved like a computer. A restart usually helped. It wouldn't hurt anything.
I wanted to pee and sleep. My rational side told me sleeping with a possible concussion and compromised wards would be foolish. The illogical side decided I would rather be murdered in my bed than spend another moment in the waking world. The deadbolt thrown, I stumbled down the hall to the bathroom.
The mirror was not kind. The goose egg on my forehead resembled a ping-pong ball. My hair looked like I had taken Aqua Net and a blow dryer to it because I wanted to audition for a Def Leppard music video. The piece de résistance being the thinness of the tank top I wore to bed. It bordered on indecent. Not my best look.
My reflection shrugged at me. If you were going to break into my home in the middle of the night, be happy I'd bothered to put on pajamas period. I used the facilities and stumbled into the kitchen. Ibuprofen was needed to stop the throbbing and bring down the bump on my forehead. A moment of genius also had me grabbing a bag of frozen peas from the back of the freezer.
