I am an unfinished project.
The only thing I’ve been focused on for the past two thousand years is how to get out of my curse.
And the only thing the caretakers have been focused on is how to get out of their curse.
And pleasing me. Because, for whatever reason, this is part of the deal. Maybe it’s payment for my services?
But the caretakers have never really pleased me. All those tasks in the Book of Debt are intimate. Never mind the sexual things—which none of them ever did. The feet washing, the horn polishing, the bathing… it’s all very personal. I never wanted any of them touching me.
Until now.
Until Pie.
Maybe I don’t want her to stay forever, but it would be nice if I had a chance to get to know her without the interference of that stupid eros sheriff.
She’s not going to like him.
She better not like him.
I’m not OK with this date.
By the time I’m done tidying up the apothecary it’s evening. And even though I do not want to walk down to Pie’s cottage and see her off on her date, I can’t help myself.
I can hear her music when I cross over the top of the hill. It’s blaring up from the house even though all the windows are closed. I knock, but she doesn’t hear it. Inside, her music is deafening.
“Pie?” I call up the stairs. The upstairs of the cottage is really more of a loft. There are walls, but not four of them. There’s a half-wall on one side and even from the bottom of the steps, I can see right into her bedroom. The top of the canopy, the valance of one window, the pale plaster of the far wall.
But no Pie.
“Pie?” I call again. Louder.
Nothing.
I go up. It’s my duty. She could’ve slipped in the bathroom. She could be passed out right now.
Who am I kidding? I want to see her naked.
This actually makes me smirk. She’s seen me naked. Fair is fair.
But when I get up there, she’s not naked. She’s dancing in the bathroom, twirling her hair around a hot iron as she sings to herself in the mirror.
This is a unique opportunity to watch her and I like what I see. She’s cleaned up, all traces of potions gone wrong wiped away. Her long blonde hair is shiny and straight, except for the parts she’s already curled. And she’s wearing makeup. Not a lot, but her eyes are dark enough to make her look different. Less innocent. More… worldly. Maybe even magical and bad.
Well, she is one of Saturn’s creatures, after all. That’s how she got in here. An eros is always alluring.
But I’m not swooning over her. I’m not losing my mind with lust. So she’s not like any other eros in the history of Saint Mark’s. Because every time a new caretaker shows up, my stupid ass swoons all over the place. Sometimes I have to lock myself in my tomb until the magic settles.
Pie didn’t evoke any of these urges when she showed up.
I was angry that night.
Pie is not dressed trashy, like the way she was when she arrived. But the cute velour pants and white t-shirt are not present either.
She is… sexy.
That’s the only word for it.
Especially when she wiggles her ass as she does her little dance in front of the mirror.
She’s wearing a very short black dress balanced out with opaque black tights. The dress has long sleeves that end in a bell shape at her wrists. The whole thing is very alluring, but at the same time, she is showing almost no skin.
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror and then she’s whirling around. “Holy shit! Pell! What the fuck!”
Oops.
“Why are you here?” She walks over to her pocket phone, clicks the music off, and glares at me. “Well, what do you want?”
“I just…” But there is no good reason to be here. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful one more time.”
She walks forward, places one hand on my chest, and pushes me backwards. “I get it. Now leave. I don’t need a big brother watching me get ready for a date.”
“Big brother?” I scowl at her. “And what the actual fuck yourself? You’re not gonna let him down easy. You’re going to date him for real.”
She points her hot iron at me. “Get out.”
“You like him, don’t you?”
“He put a spell on me. Of course I like him.”
“Speaking of,” I snarl. “Where’s your fucking amulet?”
She grabs at the counter behind her. Holds up the lavender leather pouch. “Right here.”
“You’re supposed to have it on. Never take it off.”
She slips it over her head. “There. Satisfied?”
And… no. I’m not. I want to forbid her from going out. I want to lock her in this cottage. I want her to stay here, with me, and only think about me.