Tomas reads, “‘You will bathe the monster each night.’”
And again, she whispers her objections. “Fuck this. Just fuck this.”
“Keep going, Tomas,” I growl.
“‘Rule number four. You will study alchemy, herbology, and spellcasting. Rule number five. You will attempt to break the curse at least once a month until it is done.’”
Pie sighs and bows her head, her shoulders slouching in defeat. “I can’t do any of that. I don’t know why I’m here, but”—she looks up at me, meets my gaze—“you’ve got the wrong girl.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “And yet you came in here with a magical bird?”
She lets out a long breath. “Magic? Um. For your information I have been locked in several psychiatric hospitals over the years. I’m not magic, I’m just… insane. Delusional. I hallucinate. I’m most likely just a very high-functioning schizophrenic.”
“Keep reading, Tomas.”
Pie deflates even more when I don’t show her any sympathy.
“‘Rule number six. You will take care of the greenhouse and collect herbs as necessary. Rule number seven. You will run errands for the monster and keep the kitchen stocked with fresh food.’”
“I hope you have money for this,” Pie says. “Because I don’t have any.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Tomas says. “We have magic money. You just write down the word ‘money’ on a piece of paper and hand it to them.”
“Them?” She’s confused. “Them who?”
“The people in town,” I clarify. “Any piece of paper will do. Simply write down the word ‘money’ and they will accept it.”
She ponders this for a moment while Tomas and I exchange a look. I wait for him to tell her the rest, but he keeps quiet.
Maybe he is on my side?
“Wait.” The girl points at me, then Tomas. “What’s that look you two are doing?”
“What look?” Tomas asks, feigning ignorance.
The girl squints her eyes at him. She knows something is up, but she’s not sure what.
“Keep reading,” I command.
She exhales with frustration and anger. Tomas continues. “‘Rule number eight. You will pleasure the—’”
She snorts before Tomas can even finish. “Fuck you. Just fuck you, beast. Pleasure you? What the hell does that even mean?”
I shrug. “Lots of things give me pleasure. We’ll figure it out.”
She looks at Tomas for help. But he’s already standing up, wiping his mouth with a paper napkin. “I gotta go, sunshine.” He reaches over, brushes his fingertips against her cheek, and then winks at her. “But I’ll be around if you need help with anything.” Then he waves his fingers at her playfully and walks out of the dining room.
The girl looks at me. “Nope. Nope. If you think I’m going to sexually satisfy you—”
I bellow out a laugh and point at her. “Wow. Well. We know where your mind is.” I stand up, fist my cock through my skin-tight pants. “Still on my package, I see. Why am I wearing these pants again?”
“What?”
“Sexually pleasure me?” I glare at her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Me?” She points to her chest. “You’re the one who needs to have your feet washed every morning and to be bathed every night. Like you can’t do that shit yourself?”
“You’re my slave. I’m the Monster of Saint Mark’s. The only sex between you and I will happen in your dreams!”
She stands up, flips me off, and is walking towards the hallway where Tomas disappeared when Tomas is suddenly there again.
“We have a problem.” He’s looking at me. Not her.
“What is it?”
“Well.” Now he does look at Pie. “Your car just got a ticket.”
The girl just looks at him, like she’s not understanding. “What?”
“Yep.” Tomas twirls a finger in the air. “The sheriff is out front. Flashing lights and everything.”
I smirk. I can’t help it.
“What do you mean? There’s nothing out front but fog!” She’s in complete denial. About all of it.
“No,” Tomas says. “Listen. This is how it works. Most of the time people can’t see the sanctuary. It’s hidden in the trees, this road we’re on is private, there’s no mail delivery, et cet-cet-cetera. So it’s practically invisible even without magic. But if they do notice us—for instance… a car is abandoned on the side of a country road—someone calls it in to the local sheriff. The sheriff comes out to take a look, so now the building, which was always here, just slightly, magically sorta hidden, is now visible to anyone who cares to look in our direction. So they can see us and we can see them.”
“But the fog?”
This poor girl. She’s slow. Not very bright at all. “The fog is only there because you have not put on the ring,” I explain. “And it will stay there until you do. But now that your car has been noticed—”
“Oh”—Tomas laughs—“it’s been more than noticed. They are towing it.”
“What?” She’s starting to panic. “They can’t tow my Jeep!”
“Agreed,” I say. “We need that car to get groceries.”