Now he hesitates at the threshold of my room, looking conflicted as hell.

Rather than question the look, I grab his hand and tug him in, closing the door behind him. I drop the hem of my dress, which I’ve been carrying since we left the dance, afraid to dirty it any more than I already had. It’s the prettiest piece of clothing I’ve ever worn.

I run my hands nervously down the bodice. “Thank you,” I say quietly, staring down at my feet.

Des doesn’t respond, but I feel his eyes on me. Those wicked, calculating eyes.

“Tonight was…” Something from a dream. I can still feel the way he held me when we danced, “wonderful.”

The Bargainer sits down heavily on my bed, running his hands through his hair.

I wait for some reaction, but it doesn’t come.

The silence inside this tiny little room stretches on, and for once it isn’t comfortable.

“Is something wrong?” I ask. I can feel worry churning inside me; I can practically taste the bitter bite of it at the back of my throat.

This can’t just be the best night of my life. I don’t get to have anything that sweet.

Poor Callie. Always on the outside, always looking in.

He drops his hands from where they cradle his head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks up at me, and I nearly stagger back. For once Des is the one with his emotions laid bare, and he’s staring at me like he’s been waiting for me his entire life.

Maybe I do get to have this night with all its sweetness.

Maybe I’ll get more than just this night.

“Des? What are you talking about?”

I see his throat work as he stares at me, his gaze challenging. He pushes off my bed, standing once more. The way his jaw squares is making my heart race. He looks sinister. Dangerous.

He begins stalking towards me, his eyes raking over my body, his gaze hungry.

I despaired that this man felt nothing towards me. Now a good dose of fear floods my veins because a small voice is whispering, Oh, but he does, and that is the much worse fate.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take you away from here tonight. Right now.”

“Take me away?” I flash him an odd look. “Do you have another bargain tonight?” He hasn’t been taking me on as many lately, not since I glamoured one of his clients.

He begins to circle me. “I would take you away and never release you. My sweet little siren.” He runs a hand along the bare skin of my back, and I shiver. “You don’t belong here, and both my patience and my humanity grow thin.”

Something’s not right.

“I could make you do so many things—so many, many things,” he whispers. “You would enjoy them all, that I promise you. You would enjoy them, and so would I.”

I swallow, my gaze darting down to my bracelet. I can feel his magic coaxing me towards something elusive.

“We could start tonight. I don’t think I can bear another year,” he says, eyeing me again. “And I don’t think you can either.” Just the way he says this is full of so much hunger.

As he moves around me, I catch his hand, trying to stop him and these weird, cryptic confessions of his.

“Des, what are you talking about?”

He threads his fingers through mine, holding our hands up between us. “How would you like to begin repayment tonight?”

Now there is nothing but sex and desire in his eyes.

For the past year the only things that struck me as particularly fae-like about Des were his trickery and his brutality. But right now, Des is all fairy. It’s in his words and his frightening expression. This version of him is dark and foreign.

Dark, foreign, and compelling.

And as he looks down at our intertwined fingers, his lips spread into the brightest, cruelest smile yet. I almost draw my hand away; something like self-preservation keeps me from running. I have a feeling this man is dipping his toes into treacherous waters right now, and any wrong move I make will send him tumbling headfirst into it.

I draw in a shaky breath. “Desmond Flynn, whatever’s going on, I need you to snap out of it.”

I sound a lot calmer than I feel. My pulse pounds like a drum between my ears.

He brings our joined hands close to his lips and closes his eyes. He stays like that, unmoving, for at least a minute. Long enough for me to worry. But eventually he does blink his eyes open, his nostrils flaring. And I know with just that one look that the Des I’ve come to know and rely on is back.

His expression holds a world of remorse. “I’m sorry, cherub,” he whispers, his voice husky. “You weren’t meant to see that.” He continues, “I am … not human, for all I appear to be.”

There’s something singing in my blood, and I’m pretty sure a good portion of that is still fear, but mostly it’s hope.

I’m not particularly brave, but I decide to be so now. “Do you … like me?” I ask. There’s no mistaking my meaning.

The Bargainer releases my hand. “Callie.” He’s pulling away, physically, emotionally.

“Do you?” I push.

Because I got those vibes when he was promising to take me away and make me repay him.

One of his thumbs brushes against my cheekbone. Still frowning, he dips his head.

He does.

My skin illuminates, its glow blindingly bright, and I’m happy, I’m so goddamn happy because he likes me, and I like him, and he took me to a dance, and as far as the supernatural world is concerned, I’m legally an adult.