Page 59

Story: Rhapsodic

Gone.

I walk over to him, swaying my hips a little, my skin glowing. I don’t stop until I’m climbing into his lap, my legs straddling him.

I take the mug he’s holding and toss it over my shoulder. He lifts a hand, presumably to stop it and the coffee inside it from crashing against the floor.

I lean in close to his ear, shifting my hips until I hear him groan. “Seven years, you fucker,” I say—or rather, the siren says, since she’s leading the show at this point.

His hands fall to my waist. “The best things are worth waiting for, Callie.”

I wind my arms behind his neck. “Truth or dare?”

His eyes are heated, a smirk spreading across his lips. “Trying to play my—”

“Truth: Had you bothered to stick around, I would have given you every single one of yourwickedestdesires.” I move my hips against him to punctuate my words.

I feel him react, something that brings me no little pleasure.

Leaning in extra close, my tongue tastes the shell of his ear. “And I know my dark king hasmanywicked desires,” I whisper.

I turn his face to mine, pulling it to me until only the barest bit of distance separates our lips.

But instead of kissing him, I say, “I’m going to make you ache, and ache, and ache, and I will donothingto alleviate it. I’m going to make you pay for leaving me.”

I step off of him and saunter away.

“Cherub,” Des says at my back, “I will enjoy every sweet second of it.”

It’s not untilI get several good swallows of coffee in me that the siren goes away completely.

“Gods, did I miss your siren,” Des says.

Typical that a fairy would miss the most sinister, mischievous part of me.

I grumble as I make myself at home in his kitchen, toasting some mini waffles and searching the cupboards for syrup.

He really does know my favorite foods.

The cupboard above me opens, and the syrup floats out. I catch it.

“Thanks,” I say over my shoulder.

“Mmm.”

I’m playing house with the Bargainer. And it feels so …normal.

Once I finish preparing my waffles, I head back over to the table.

“Now both of our names are on the Wanted List,” Des says when I sit down next to him.

It takes a second for to compute. “Wait, I’m ontheWanted List?”

Des passes me his tablet, and sure enough, there I am. Number eighty-six.

I feel my jaw hanging open. “Seriously, what the actual fuck?”

Eli has lost his damn mind. He broke into my house and shifted, placing me and Des in mortal danger. And the asshole has the audacity to putmeon the Wanted List?

A second later, I realize that Temper has surely seen the list, which means she must be going ballistic. I reach for my phone, only to remember that I never had a chance to grab it last night.