Authors: Natale Stenzel
Mina raised her eyebrow. “You don’t think so?”
“Well, maybe briefly, but in the long run, I swear we’ll both be better off. Aren’t you in a much better frame of mind now
than you were an hour ago?”
“Sure, I guess so. But you paying off Jackson is only postponing me losing the house. I can’t afford these payments on my
own.”
“Oh, please. I took you for a resourceful woman. Use your head. Refinance the mortgage. Haven’t you built up any equity in
the place? Work with it. Get your payments lowered. If you want it enough, you can do it.”
Mina’s mind raced. Damn dog was right. She could do this. If she wanted it badly enough—and she did—she could keep the house.
Especially if Teague was right about insurance covering the renovation work.
“See? Now stop calling me a damn dog.”
“Okay, let’s get something straight. I’m grateful—no,
overwhelmed
—if you’ve somehow managed to turn things around for me so completely. But you’ve got to stop reading my every thought.”
The puca sighed. “I know. But it’s so much more efficient than waiting for you to transfer thought to speech. I’m also just
a little anxious to hear what you think about this deal. This could be win-win for both of us, you know.”
That was reasonable. “Okay, we can talk. Exactly what would I need to do to make your life suck less? And would making your
life suck less make mine suck more in any way, shape or form?”
“Depends on your definition and performance.”
“Explain.”
“Well, for my part, I’m going to want my freedom—which I think is reasonable—and I’m going to want free use of the powers
that are rightfully mine.”
Mina studied him. “I guess that’s understandable. So how do we get this for you?”
“Like I said, we break the curse.”
“Yeah, I get that part. Over and over, in fact. But you’re going to have to be more specific. Have I mentioned my complete
inexperience with curses and the breaking of such? I’m a total novice. Completely ignorant. I don’t even believe in curses.”
“Don’t believe—! Hello? Remember my cornerstone? There’s a clear imprint of it on your forehead. That would be evidence of
a curse. Plenty of basis for belief.”
“It’s just a rock.” Still, Mina eyed him uneasily.
“Distinction: that ‘rock’ was part of a Sarsen stone that once stood among hundreds of others like it in the sacred stone
circle of Avebury in Wiltshire County, England.”
Tiny hairs rose on the back of Mina’s neck. “Oh, lord. I shouldn’t ask. I know I shouldn’t ask. But . . . by stone circle,
do you mean Stonehenge?”
“Oh, please. Of course not Stonehenge. You people are so predictable.”
Mina relaxed.
“Stonehenge might be a pretty little circle, but it’s all theatrics. No, Avebury’s older, bigger, more effective and, frankly,
less well-kept. It’s a shame really. If people only knew. Well . . .” He eyed Mina’s no doubt appalled expression. “Maybe
it’s better they don’t.”
Mina worked her jaw for a moment. “And I’m supposed to believe all this?”
“A smart woman will generally take on faith a few things once she’s seen a few related ones, yes? Have I said anything that
hasn’t come true yet?”
No. He hadn’t. So that meant the cornerstone really used to be part of some mysterious stone circle. She licked suddenly dry
lips. “So. Is this the part where you tell me how my life is going to suck?”
“You know, I thought you had a little more courage than this. Not everyone would have the guts to start renovations on a house
while facing down unemployment, bankruptcy and homelessness. To a sensible person, that’s terrifying.”
“True.”
“So what’s a stone circle or two when you’re teamed up with a puca who can do good things for you? I made the unemployment
go away. I made the specter of homelessness go away. So listen to your puca. Take a risk. Live a little.”
“Sure, talk to me about risk. Here you are, a shape-shifter. What do you have to worry about?”
The puca’s eyes glowed. “I’ve been living under this curse for a millennium or two. There’s more to worry about than you know.”
“Gosh, that’s convincing.”
The puca dropped moodily to the floor, muzzle buried in his paws.
“Oh, don’t even do bloodhound on me. I’m impervious to puppy dog eyes, especially spooky yellow ones.”
The eyes looked up at her, all signs of humor leeched from them. Staring into them, Mina saw utter weariness and desperation.
It gave her pause. A millennium or two. Just the way he’d said the words, enunciating each syllable as if he felt the weight
of every year of his term of imprisonment . . . and no human could possibly comprehend that length of time. He’d spent every
year, every day, every moment of it in captivity. Disembodied.
She tried to imagine not feeling her limbs, not really seeing or sensing anything or anyone.
“To be technically correct, I have been able to communicate with most of my guardians. None of them as well as you, though.”
“And everything else?”
“I wasn’t aware of anything or anyone else. I had some limited perception before they busted up the Sarsen stone, since it
was grounded in the earth, but once they did that . . . nothing.” His yellow eyes were flat now. “Just conversations with
my guardian of the moment, whatever she might care to share with me. Gladys was actually really generous on that score, sharing
her day-to-day thoughts and worries with me. Sometimes, when she was in the mood, she’d even read from the newspapers to me.
I liked that. She was originally an American, like you.”
“So that’s why you don’t have much of an accent. Years of living with Gladys.”
“That and American TV programs. She loved her imported cooking shows and sitcoms. And the woman was a complete movie addict—loved
American films. The raunchier the better. Whatever she watched, I could watch. Otherwise . . . it was just limbo for me.”
He shrugged. “So I watched.”
Mina nodded, thinking. Limbo. Disembodiment. What was that like? It must have been so disorienting. Like forever wandering
in the dark without being able to feel or see, to smell, touch or taste. It would drive anyone literally insane. Who would
do that to another being? What would merit a punishment like that?
“I seduced Archdruid Akker’s daughter when she was engaged to another man.”
“Oh.” Mina winced.
“Yeah, I know how you feel about cheaters, but I swear I wouldn’t have done her if I’d known she was engaged to someone else.
I don’t remember that night, but I do know an engagement would generally hold me up.” When Mina’s expression and mindset didn’t
alter, the dog slumped further. “Hey, I like sex as much as the next guy, but I have one or two standards. Besides, I was
a handsome guy. Pussy wasn’t that hard to come by. I wouldn’t purposely go after somebody else’s girl when an unattached one
is so much less complicated.”
Mina stared, hard, then shook her head. “I don’t get it. I was waiting for world-altering offenses. Stomach-churning horrors.
Instead I get locker-room logic and a soap opera drama? You guys—puca, Druid, whoever else you’re not telling me about—for
all your powers and your ‘millennia’ are as petty as humans. What’s the deal?”
“Hey, nobody said we had different problems. Just that our temper tantrums were a little more extreme.”
“No kidding.” She dropped into a chair. “I can kind of see where the guy’s coming from, though. I mean, Tiffy and Jackson
pissed me off royally.” She shrugged. “I might have done a few petty things to get back at them.” She paused, remembering
the porn-related suggestion she’d made just tonight over the phone, and grinned ruefully. “And maybe I’m not done being petty
either. I’m not sure what I would have done with powers like yours or this Druid’s if I’d had the chance.” She pondered a
moment. “But weren’t Druids human? I mean, how would this Druid guy stand a chance against you?”
“A righteously pissed-off Druid, you mean, which is important . . . and me with my hands tied.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have our rules, too. For example, puca magic generally has to follow the path of karma, so as a result, only the deserving
benefit from our intervention and the undeserving lose as a result of it. In addition to a few other complications, I violated
that flow. As a result, I lost the ability to protect myself from, or retaliate against, revenge by a victim of my magic.”
“So the Druid girl did this to you? But I thought—”
Riordan was shaking his head. “This is where it gets sticky for the puca. A victim is defined as anyone who is hurt by puca
magic, including pissed-off fathers of compromised daughters. The pissed-off daddy in this case also happened to be a powerful
Archdruid with an amazingly detail-oriented gift for spell casting and an eternal thirst for vengeance.”
“I see.” She eyed him. “So, are you sorry? That you made love to the girl?”
He stared at her, his eyes glowing almost neon with frustration. “I guess I should be. I don’t know. I can’t remember her.
I don’t remember the night I did her, even.”
“But you’re sure that you did.”
“I’m sure. But part of the curse was not remembering her or the act itself. And I can’t say her name without experiencing
this pleasant, implosionlike sensation in my head. Akker decided I didn’t deserve the knowledge or the memory of his daughter.
He said I had no right to them and he was just reclaiming them for her. So I have the physical and mental conviction that
I really did have sex with a girl who was intended for someone else, but I have no memory of the act itself. I don’t know
how we touched, what she said, if she liked it, if I liked it, how it started, how it ended . . .
anything
.”
“Oh, goody. Amnesia, too? Why does this sound like a soap opera? Look, are you damn sure you did this?”
“I had sex with her. I’m sure of that. And I must have wronged her or her father to some extent or I wouldn’t have been vulnerable
to the curse. I’m also sure, though, that the sex was consensual.” He frowned. “Mostly.”
“Mostly?
Mostly
consensual? Well, screw that.” She stood up, with every intent of dismissing him and his problems. “I don’t cut deals with
rapists.” Let him rot in his damn cornerstone.
He lunged to his feet. “I don’t mean that. I wouldn’t rape a woman.”
She waited.
“But I might have turned on the charm a little. And maybe I wasn’t head over heels in love with the woman, just wanting to
get laid. Maybe I exaggerated things a little. I don’t know.”
She gave him a contemptuous look.
“Hey, I’m trying to be honest with you. I swear I don’t force any woman. I don’t have to. If I want a woman, well, I generally
get her. It was always that way. Or it was back then, anyway. I have no recent experiences to offer as proof. Disem-
body
-ment means a whole lot of sacrifice, you know?” He looked brooding. “Anyway, I’m into kinky but I’ve never been into violent
kinky. If that makes sense.”
She sighed and slumped back in her chair. “Yeah. I know what you mean. So you probably tried some stupid line on her, did
the wild nasty, and . . . and what?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. That’s the problem. I can’t remember anything about that night. Except for a wild and wicked
ceremony in Avebury after the fact, and a whole lot of nights stuck with that damned stone. But at least I could see and hear
the world at first. I was under the stars. Later, after the stone was busted up and Akker’s followers made some adjustments,
the confinement got worse.” He gave her a woeful look, obviously inviting sympathetic questions about his punishment.
It was enough to jade even the most optimistic woman, and Mina was certainly less than. “Sounds like something a decent fraction
of the frat boy population has done at some point or another. Both the mysterious sex and the freaky ceremonial. Hell, even
the curse and blackballing. Aren’t you guys supposed to be above at least some of this crap?”
“We’ve already discussed this part.”
“I know.” She stared at the clock. “And I’m too damned tired for this right now. No way am I cutting wee-hour deals with a
cursed shape-shifter when I have a knot on my head and too little sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Fair enough?”
“Sure.”
She stood up and stretched, then padded her way into the bedroom. Hearing footsteps following her, she halted in her doorway.
“Oh, no. No pucas in my bedroom. I don’t swing that way, remember?”
“Oh, come on. Have a heart. It’s been literally centuries for me. And if you’d prefer the human form—”
“No how, no way, no matter what form you take. Do we have that straight?”
“Sheesh. If you have a headache tonight, just say so.”
That glint in his eyes . . . he was teasing, right? She was almost certain he was teasing. But she wasn’t taking chances.
“Hey, as far as you’re concerned, I have a headache
every
night. Got it?”
“Humans. You guys take this stuff way too seriously.”
She glared at him until the glint faded. “And you don’t take it seriously enough. Maybe the Druid knew what he was doing when
he cursed you.”
“Oh, that was low.” The puca slunk back into the living room, tail down, and collapsed on the rug.
Mina leaned against the doorjamb for a moment. Given what he was, what he could do, and what he’d just shared with her, she
should really be afraid of him. But she wasn’t.
“Well, you shouldn’t be. Pucas are playful. Haven’t you heard? We don’t like pain and we don’t inflict it. Much.”
Mina groaned. “I think it’s that ‘much’ part that concerns me. Good night, Riordan.”
Canine sigh. “ ’Night, Mina.”
Too tired to do much but carefully wash her face and dab at the ugly bump on her temple, Mina changed into the most modest
pj’s she could find and crawled into bed. Just as she was drifting off, she reminded herself to find that missing letter in
the morning. It would be interesting to get Cousin Gladys’s take on pucas and their curses. Maybe she had some secrets to
impart, too. Something about eliminating a puca?
Hey, I heard that.