Page 60 of First Snow
“Enjoy your breakfast, Detective Inspector Palosaari. You’re my guest for the foreseeable future.”
Arttu’s senses clear a little more with each inch Jareth puts between them, leaving him embarrassed and painfully hard. An angry blush rises to his face as he watches Jareth turn around. Grabbing a coffee mug, Arttu hurls it after his captor with an infuriated yell.
He would have hit Jareth in the neck. The moment the mug leaves Arttu’s hand, he already wishes he could undo his action. He wants to arrest Jareth. He wants to get out of here, preferably alive. What he doesn’t want, even after everything that’s happened, is to hurt him.
Time seems to slow down as the cup swirls inexorably toward its target. Jareth raises his hand; the motion looks almost lazy. The cup stops its trajectory and just hovers in the air.
Arttu can only stare wide-eyed at the gravity-defying tableware.
Jareth grabs the mug and sets it back on the coffee table.
“Behave yourself,” Jareth orders, before leaving the room.
His world crumbling around him, Arttu stares after him.
Chapter 20
Jareth
“LordBriarhasgoneinto hiding,” Annikki announces as she bursts into his study. She doesn’t seem to register his foul mood. “Where’s the coffee?” She makes a grab for the pot and pours herself a generous cup, sighing contentedly as she takes her first sip. “Is Arttu still asleep?”
Jareth grits his teeth and rearranges the papers on his desk.
“Find Briar.”
“What?”
“I said, find him!”
“What do you think I’m doing?” Annikki asks, exasperated and maybe even a little amused.
“I need results. Yesterday would be best.”
“Whoa, what’s the matter with you today?”
Jareth makes a dismissive sound.
“Boss?” The amused tone has vanished from Annikki’s voice. “Jareth, what’s wrong?”
He slams a printed article from theHelsingin Sanomatin front of Annikki. She wrinkles her nose as she skims the text.
“Oh yeah, I vaguely remember the incident. Paavo Palosaari, right? He had good chances to run for Prime Minister.” Annikki chuckles. “That was before his son uncovered that he had been handing out million-dollar public contracts to his business friends and collecting commissions on them.”
“His son,” Jareth echoes.
“Yup. What was his name again?” Annikki scans the article. “Here it is: Arttu Palosaari from the Helsinki Police. Wait, Arttu…?”
“Yes.”
Jareth chokes on the overwhelming feelings of grief and betrayal. For the first time in a very long time, maybe even for the first time ever, he wanted to commit to someone. He had wanted tokeepArttu, but not in the twisted sense his ancestors kept their human slaves. And now he’s forced to hold his beloved prisoner. Jareth hates it. And he loves it; the way Arttu is clearly struggling with mixed feelings of his own. Fear. Anger. Arousal. The urge to submit. Jareth buries his face in his palms and sighs deeply.
“Arttu has brought us into quite the predicament.”
“Oh,shit,” Annikki says with emphasis. “What happened? This can’t be an official investigation, right?”
Shaking his head, Jareth turns the screen of his computer toward her.
“I had to call in a few favors from my old colleagues to find these.”