Touch (Touched by the Fae 3)

Gillespie moves it so that he’s facing me. He takes a seat, his wide blue eyes narrowed on me as I stay tucked in the corner.

When he does nothing but watch me closely, my nerves coupled with my frustration get the better of me.

“What do you want?” I snap.

Before I passed out, I spent long hours trying to understand why he was doing this since he hasn’t told me yet. To go to the trouble of setting up the trap in the hope he could keep me here, even threatening to harm my old techs… he has a reason. I have no idea what it is, but I decided my best bet was to pretend to be the model prisoner so that he’ll reveal his evil plan to me in time.

And… then I went ahead and let my frustration and fear get the better of me.

Whoops.

Good thing Gillespie doesn’t seem to mind my snappish attitude. In fact, he seems to revel in it.

At least he answers me, though.

“What do I want? Honestly? Just to look at you,” he tells me, his voice more nasal than usual.

Yeah. Because that’s not creepy as hell.

“Well, don’t. It’s fucking weird.”

“Sorry. I just… I can’t believe you’re here. Finally. It took me a very, very long time to find you, you know.”

You, he says. Not someone who has a history of dealing with the fae. Not someone who’s been to Faerie. Not a halfling. You.

In my recent experience, there’s only one reason why someone is looking for me specifically.

I’m resigned as I scoff, “Let me guess. Because I’m the Shadow?”

“Because you’re like me.” Gillespie pushes his glasses up his nose, then says, “The fact that you’re the Shadow is a bonus.”

“Like you? You mean a whackjob shrink who thinks it’s okay to lock his patients in a closet in his office?”

“Former patient. As far as the facility is concerned, Riley Thorne is no longer admitted here.”

That’s one good thing. If I can figure out how to escape, I won’t have to worry about the asylum coming after me again.

“Besides,” he says, leaning forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and a pleased grin stretching his lips, “that’s not what I meant when I said that you’re like me.” He tilts his head, showing me his profile. “Notice anything different?”

I’m looking at his weak chin, the golden rim of his glasses as they curve around his ears—

His pointed ears.

Okay. I know damn sure that if his ears had always looked like that, I would’ve noticed before now.

“What? How?”

I’m gaping. Can’t help it. And, from the way he preens as he shifts in his seat, he got exactly the reaction out of me that he was after.

Gillespie lifts his hand, stroking the tip of his ear. “Long hair on men isn’t in fashion like it used to be. I had to learn how to hide them. Took some time, but even a halfling can use glamour.”

Really?

I didn’t know that, either.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Can I stop him?