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The Bargainer smiles, and the plate lifts into the air again. This time when I grab for it, it resists, and I have to settle for snatching the waffles off the plate.

“You are a vindictive little shit,” I say, glowering at him.

“Little?” He gives me a precious smile. “Let’s not use adjectives improperly now.” He takes a final sip of his coffee and sets it in his sink.

Meanwhile, I’m dealing with the clusterfuck that is currently my breakfast. I shove the last bits of waffle into my mouth, my hands covered in syrup.

I make my way over to him, turning on the sink faucet and rinsing my sticky hands off.

His eyes flick over me again. “Much as I like you in my clothes,” he says, “you need to change. There are outfits in your closet.”

“Seriously? Did you just stock it?” I ask, trying to figure out when he could have slipped the clothes by me.

“Naw,” he says, walking out of the kitchen, “the clothes were always there waiting for you. Last night I just wanted to see you in mine.”

Wiley bastard.

“I hope you’re ready to glamour some people,” he says over his shoulder. “In an hour we’re leaving for the Otherworld.”

I take adeep breath as I head to Des’s portal room, girding myself for the trip to the Otherworld.

My glamour only works on earthly beings. Once we crossover, I’m as good as defanged.

It’s just a visit. We’re not staying.

I glance down at the shimmery fae gown. The material parts as I walk, revealing the crisscrossing ribbons of my sandals that tie high up on my thighs. As soon as I opened the door to my temporary closet, the outfit floated out, landing on the bed.

Hint taken.

I will say this for the fae—they may be heartless sons-of-bitches, but they have seriously good taste in fashion.

The Bargainer waits for me in front of his portal room, one of the two rooms in his home I’ve yet to see. I’ve never seen Des in anything but the T-shirt and pants combo he always wears—until now.

The black, sleeveless tunic he wears hugs his torso. Beneath it, his black breeches are tucked into dark riding boots. A low-slung leather belt is strapped loosely around his waist.

Jesus. He looks like an assassin—a bangable one.

Behind him, an assortment of locks line the door, and I bet there’s even more magical ones I can’t see. I don’t know whether to feel reassured or worried by the extensive security measures.

Still facing me, Des raps his knuckles on the door at his back. “On the other side of this door, there’s an active portal,” he says. He extends his arm. “You’re going to want to hold onto me until we step off the ley line.”

He doesn’t need to warn me twice. I take his hand, enjoying the warm feel of his skin against mine.

One by one, the locks tumble, each ratcheting up my unease.

All the old stories of fairies come back to me. Monsters that lurk under mountains. The tooth fairy that built herself a palace of children’s teeth. The wild fae that, with one look, can enslave their prey.

And then there are the fae that aren’t so humanlike. Things that eat humans whole and wear their innards like jewelry.

All that is waiting for me on the other side of this portal.

The door opens, and Des and I step into a circular room, my sandals squishing into bright green grass, tiny white and pink flowers speckled amongst the groundcover.

Crisscrossing vines of wisteria cover the walls and ceiling. Where the wall meets the floor there is a ring of mushrooms circling the room.

The grass sways back and forth, and the leaves of the vines shiver as some phantom breeze blows against them.

Like most portal sites, the laws of nature don’t really apply here.