“Gwendolen!” Kip bellowed, barreling down the hall. “It is I, Kipworth the Brave, combatant for your hand and rightful recipient of your love! Also the rightful recipient of your leftovers, should you have any available!”
“We come bearing gifts!” Lorrie shouted next. “And should you choose to reward our Herculean labors with gourmet French cuisine, we shall gladly accept!”
“I wanted pupusas,” Kip complained.
Lorrie didn’t waver. “Suck it up, bro. Pupusas are for winners, and you got your nuts kicked into your throat by a mini-demon with a tiny, hot ass.”
“Sorry,” Hugh murmured, and pressed a sweet kiss to the sore spot on Gwen’s forehead before easing out from underneath her on the couch. “I asked them to bring us a few things, and apparently they’re done shopping. But…Gwen?”
She still lay sprawled and needy on the sofa, still too lust dazed to easily adjust to her sudden change of fortunes. At least until Kip, now rummaging through the refrigerator, loudly demanded water from artesian aquifers as recompense for his wounded pride and battered balls—whereupon she hastily sat up and tugged at her pajama top until it lay flat again.
“Yes?” she asked breathlessly.
Each word quiet and deliberate, Hugh told her, “The next time we have privacy and a soft surface, I want your thighs wrapped around my neck.”
It was the horniest thing a male had ever uttered in her presence, spoken by a demon with literal horns. Very fitting. Also very heartening.
“What a strange coincidence.” She grinned at him, all her disappointed aggrievement shifting to anticipation. “I want that too.”
“Excellent,” he said, and went to greet the trolls.
—
Sorting through allthe items the trolls had brought took a long time. There was an anti-nausea amulet on a sturdy leather cord, which Gwen immediately and gratefully slipped over her head. A healing spell contained within a decorative pomander.An extra outfit for Hugh. Fuzzy socks, slip-on shoes, boots, and several changes of soft, warm clothing for Gwen.
Hugh sat beside her on the couch and watched as she riffled happily through the packages. “Anything else you might need, simply text to Lorrie. She and Kip will bring it to you as soon as possible.”
“Thank you so, so much.” Gwen set down a deliciously fleecy pair of sweatpants. “I don’t suppose I could—”
“No.” He frowned at her. “I don’t want reimbursement.”
Under other circumstances, she’d wrangle with him over that peremptory statement, but she honestly had no idea how much the witchwork and garments might have cost—not to mention the endless bottles of vitamins he’d apparently ordered. She doubted shecouldpay him back, in all honesty.
So instead of arguing, she simply smiled at him. “Thank you, Hugh.”
He glanced toward the kitchen, where the trolls had momentarily paused an increasingly vicious battle over a banh mi sandwich to spy on the couch dwellers. Then toward the home’s short hallway, where Max was just now emerging from his bedroom, no doubt motivated by abject fear for the continued safety of his cabinetry, and was eyeing all his guests askance.
Staid, reserved Councilor Hugh Blacke, Esquire, simply shrugged, leaned forward, and planted a brief, soft kiss on her lips. “You’re more than welcome. Honey-bunny.”
When she stuck her tongue out at him, he actuallywinkedat her.
His phone dinged. Once, then again.
When he glanced at its screen, his smile faded. “It seems I’vebeen summoned to SERC headquarters for questioning, as predicted.”
“Can you ask them to wait for morning?” She clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking. “Or refuse to go?”
Would they simply ask him for a more detailed statement? Or did they intend to arrest their colleague despite the circumstantial nature of the evidence against him?
“Unfortunately, no.” Hugh rose to his feet. “Any attempt at avoidance would only increase their suspicions.”
“Blacke is right,” Max called over his shoulder as he forcibly separated the squabbling trolls. “Much as it pains me to admit that.”
When Gwen stood too, the exhaustion from a very difficult day left her knees wobbly. “You’ll be careful? And call me with an update as soon as you can?”
Assuming you’re not using your lone allowed phone call on a criminal lawyer instead, she very carefully didn’t say.
His arms opened, and she flung herself into them.
