“Besides ruining the mind of a little siren?” he says.

“Besides that,” I say, smiling softly.

In the hall outside my room, I hear some of my floormates laughing as they run off to dinner. They knock on the door next to mine, inviting Shelly and Trisha to dinner with them. I hear their footsteps coming towards my room, and a small part of me hopes they’ll knock on my door, even though Desmond is here.

Their footsteps pass my door without pause.

“They can’t hear us, you know,” Des says, not looking up from his work.

I didn’t know, but I had wondered why no one on my floor had asked about the male voice coming from my room. The walls here are paper thin.

“That was kind of you, Des,” I say.

“I like my privacy. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Right.” God forbid the Bargainer actually gets a reputation for kindness.

“And my name is Desmond—not … Des.” His voice drips with disdain.

So the name bugs him? Goody.

“I’ll stop calling you Des as soon as you stop call me cherub.”

He grumbles at that.

I take a seat at my computer chair and watch him work for several seconds. And as I sit there, staring at him, I feel my stomach flutter.

If I close my eyes, I can pretend that we’re not in my shady dorm room, that I’m not paying the Bargainer off to keep me company, that Des likes me every bit as much as I like him.

But then I remember that I get to hang out with him for no more than four hours of his day. I live for those four hours, but what about him? I’m probably just his equivalent of paid vacation.

What does he do when he’s not stealing secrets or collecting debt? What is this man’s idea of fun?

Probably stealing candy from babies or something awful like that.

“What do you do in your free time?” I ask again.

He flips another page of my textbook. “This will cost you,” he says.

I shrug. I already have two rows of beads. What was one more? “Add a bead.”

I catch sight of my wrist just as another dull, black bead forms.

“I rule.” He doesn’t even look up when says it.

I wait for more, but it never comes.

“Oh, c’mon, that’s it?” I say. “That answer was two words.” I deserve a better answer than that, considering the price I will eventually have to pay for the favor. In all likelihood, someday this bracelet of beads will turn into a very real version of Fuck-Marry-Kill.

“So was my name. You didn’t complain then.” He begins drawing in my mouth.

“You didn’t add a bead for that answer,” I say.

“A generosity I’m not interested in repeating.” His words are clipped.

I grind my teeth together.

Dropping down to the floor next to him, I snatch the pen from his hand. “What exactly do you rule?” I demand.

The Bargainer rolls onto his side, propping his head up with a hand, a smirk on his face, a wisp of white blond hair falling into his eyes. He studies me for a second, then gives in. “I’m the King of the Night.”

“The King of the Night?” I repeat dumbly.

What kind of title is that?

“In the Otherworld,” he elaborates, taking the pen back from me.

The Otherworld.

I stare at him.

The Otherworld.

Holy crap, this dude is a fairy. No, not just a fairy, a fae king. A leader of one of the most ruthless races of beings.

And I’ve been mean to him.

“So you’re … really important,” I say.

He inclines his head slightly, still looking amused. “A bit.”

Well fuck me good, I hadn’t realized.

I take in his unruly white hair, his staggering frame, tatted arm, and black-on-black attire.

“You don’t look like a king,” I say.

“And you don’t look like the kind of girl that makes deals with the Bargainer, cherub. Your point?”

He has me there.

King of the Night. Just the name sounds badass.

“Where are your wings?” I ask.

He levels me an annoyed look. “Away.”

Des must realize I’m going to keep pestering him because he closes my textbook and sets it aside.

Having the Bargainer’s full attention is like catching a tiger’s eye. All you wanted to do was pet the creature, but as soon as it turns its gaze on you, you realize it’s simply going to tear you apart.

“Tell me, cherub, would you like to visit my kingdom one day?” he asks, his voice soft like velvet.

Is this a trick question? I feel as though I’m about to walk into a trap.

“You’d take me?” I ask. I try not to sound too excited, or frightened for that matter. Everything I’ve learned about the Otherworld terrifies me. But the idea of the King of the Night giving me a guided tour of his realm is impossibly appealing.

“Oh, I’ll take you,” he promises, he wicked glint in his eyes. “One day I won’t give you a choice.”

Present

Shortly after I agree to help Des, he returns me home for the night. Now that I’m onboard, he has preparations to make on his own end. Tomorrow we’ll be going over the disappearances. The day after, I’ll be interviewing the changelings. That means visiting the Otherworld and seeing for the first time in my life the kingdom Des rules.

I stand outside in my backyard, watching the Bargainer fly back into the night, a large part of me wanting to follow him.