smoothed the gray mottled skin. She didn’t need to understand the words to know that the Goblin King was begging for forgiveness.
***
Steven placed the suit on his bed. He’d sworn never to buy off the rack again when he’d started working for Gunn and Coulter. He was not Joe Average. His lips thinned into a smile. He was smarter than that. And he had the bank account to prove it. The police would never find anything to pin on him. All the evidence pointed to Eliza—and she was his weak link.
Eliza had reduced him to this cheap suit.
He placed a tie worth more than the suit on the bed. Tailoring would take weeks. Every suit he owned was now only fit for rags. Rage simmered in his blood, but he pressed it down. There would be time for that later. He had to get her back before he could exact his revenge.
And he would make her pay for the inconvenience of calling the police and having them traipse through the house, trawling for evidence. He changed his clothes and checked his appearance in the mirror. The suit hung off his shoulders with no more grace than it had on the coat hanger. Steven took off the jacket. It was better to be cold than to be photographed in an ill-fitting suit.
Eliza’s little game had gone on long enough. A kidnapper would have sent a ransom note by now. Every schmuck knew what Eliza Coulter was worth. Her trust fund was enough to make most men look twice. What he wanted was more basic. Her name. Slade forever linked with the biggest political, and legal, family in the state.
The PI he’d hired had found nothing, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hiding, trying to force his hand or make him trip. A breath hissed out between Steven’s teeth. If he stumbled, she was going down with him. He was beginning to regret ever telling her. Eliza was becoming more of a liability than an asset.
He picked up the phone ready to act the worried, loving partner. Thirty minutes later the police were taping off the house. The Mobile Police Facility was parked out front. If the neighbors weren’t already talking, they would be now. The newspaper reporter snapped photos. Steven did his best distraught fiancé shuffle as the police escorted him to the station to be interviewed.
They asked the same questions. New questions. Only one question.
Where was Eliza?
He honestly had no idea. And that scared him. Eliza was beyond his control.
Chapter 5
Dai, the king’s brother, sat at the table with Eliza. He’d introduced himself as he’d claimed her earring and then withdrawn into silence. She’d leaned an important lesson. Never offer a goblin gold unless you were prepared to part with it.
“Has this happened before?” Her skin was cold. Trying to coax Dai into conversation was better than watching him toy with a small knife and her earring.
He pointed at the three swords on the wall.
“There were six. He’s killed three of you?” After the shooting they’d been banished from the gold room. Eliza had been glad to leave. She wasn’t sure if it was a murder or a mercy killing, only that she’d seen a part of the Goblin King she was sure he’d rather keep hidden. Losing a man had wounded him. His golden heart wasn’t as cold as she’d thought. What else did he hide?
Dai drove the tip of the knife into the table where it quivered but stayed upright. “No, the druid killed us when he laid the curse.” Pain rolled beneath the dark seas of his eyes. She would rather face the endless heat in Roan’s eyes than drown in Dai’s.
“He shot—”
“Anfri was already gone. His soul was freed. What Roan did was a blessing. Meryn still runs with the Hoard.” Dai snorted and shook his head, his loose hair falling over his shoulders. “Back then we didn’t know. He gave up so quick. One day he was human, the next…now I doubt he thinks of anything but bloody metal.” Dai stood, grabbed his knife, and slid it into his vest with its five identical siblings. “Don’t judge Roan by one
***
Steven placed the suit on his bed. He’d sworn never to buy off the rack again when he’d started working for Gunn and Coulter. He was not Joe Average. His lips thinned into a smile. He was smarter than that. And he had the bank account to prove it. The police would never find anything to pin on him. All the evidence pointed to Eliza—and she was his weak link.
Eliza had reduced him to this cheap suit.
He placed a tie worth more than the suit on the bed. Tailoring would take weeks. Every suit he owned was now only fit for rags. Rage simmered in his blood, but he pressed it down. There would be time for that later. He had to get her back before he could exact his revenge.
And he would make her pay for the inconvenience of calling the police and having them traipse through the house, trawling for evidence. He changed his clothes and checked his appearance in the mirror. The suit hung off his shoulders with no more grace than it had on the coat hanger. Steven took off the jacket. It was better to be cold than to be photographed in an ill-fitting suit.
Eliza’s little game had gone on long enough. A kidnapper would have sent a ransom note by now. Every schmuck knew what Eliza Coulter was worth. Her trust fund was enough to make most men look twice. What he wanted was more basic. Her name. Slade forever linked with the biggest political, and legal, family in the state.
The PI he’d hired had found nothing, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hiding, trying to force his hand or make him trip. A breath hissed out between Steven’s teeth. If he stumbled, she was going down with him. He was beginning to regret ever telling her. Eliza was becoming more of a liability than an asset.
He picked up the phone ready to act the worried, loving partner. Thirty minutes later the police were taping off the house. The Mobile Police Facility was parked out front. If the neighbors weren’t already talking, they would be now. The newspaper reporter snapped photos. Steven did his best distraught fiancé shuffle as the police escorted him to the station to be interviewed.
They asked the same questions. New questions. Only one question.
Where was Eliza?
He honestly had no idea. And that scared him. Eliza was beyond his control.
Chapter 5
Dai, the king’s brother, sat at the table with Eliza. He’d introduced himself as he’d claimed her earring and then withdrawn into silence. She’d leaned an important lesson. Never offer a goblin gold unless you were prepared to part with it.
“Has this happened before?” Her skin was cold. Trying to coax Dai into conversation was better than watching him toy with a small knife and her earring.
He pointed at the three swords on the wall.
“There were six. He’s killed three of you?” After the shooting they’d been banished from the gold room. Eliza had been glad to leave. She wasn’t sure if it was a murder or a mercy killing, only that she’d seen a part of the Goblin King she was sure he’d rather keep hidden. Losing a man had wounded him. His golden heart wasn’t as cold as she’d thought. What else did he hide?
Dai drove the tip of the knife into the table where it quivered but stayed upright. “No, the druid killed us when he laid the curse.” Pain rolled beneath the dark seas of his eyes. She would rather face the endless heat in Roan’s eyes than drown in Dai’s.
“He shot—”
“Anfri was already gone. His soul was freed. What Roan did was a blessing. Meryn still runs with the Hoard.” Dai snorted and shook his head, his loose hair falling over his shoulders. “Back then we didn’t know. He gave up so quick. One day he was human, the next…now I doubt he thinks of anything but bloody metal.” Dai stood, grabbed his knife, and slid it into his vest with its five identical siblings. “Don’t judge Roan by one
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