relaxes. Just as I thought. It’s damn hard to come across as a badass PI when you’re wearing a short flowery dress.
I crouch down. ‘Do you remember me?’
The corners of his mouth turn up. ‘Darling, how could I not?’
He’s flirting. Idiot. The slim file Tam provided me with before the debacle at Wiltshore Avenue told me one salient detail that O’Shea was now stupidly trying to conceal in a bid to charm me: I was most definitely not his type. I give him an exasperated look and I see comprehension dawn in his eyes.
‘Oh.’ He gives me a half grin. ‘You know I’m gay.’
‘Indeed.’
I settle myself at his feet, cross my legs, rest my chin on my hands and look at him.
‘Are you going to help me get out of this?’ he asks, holding up his chained wrist. The headboard rattles.
I shake my head.
He blinks at me with his large orange eyes. ‘You saved my life.’ It’s not a question.
‘Yes.’
‘So now you’re going to keep me tied to a bed to have your kinky way with me?’
‘We’ve already been through that.’ I keep my voice calm. The five martinis I recently downed help with that. ‘Though it’s not too late for me to change my mind about the saving your life part.’
There’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes, as if he’s already decided that a little girl like me wouldn’t have the stomach for it. He has no idea. After the last twenty-four hours, I’m prepared to do whatever it takes. Something in my manner finally makes him realise this because the doubt changes to fear. Good. I stretch my arm forward and lightly touch the wound on his torso. The fear grows.
‘Tell me what you were doing at the house.’
He swallows. ‘It’s my childhood home. I was taking a trip down memory lane.’
I press my fingers down and he gasps. ‘Okay, okay! There’s no need to go all Guantanamo on me. Jeez.’ He rolls his eyes as if I’m infringing on his human rights. Alright, I suppose I am. But I’ve got cause.
‘Tell me what you were doing at the house,’ I repeat. I know what Tam told me but I have no reason now to believe what he said.
O’Shea looks hangdog. Unfortunately for him, his sunset orange pupils remind me of my grandfather’s evil cat rather than a cute puppy.
‘Fine. It’s no big deal. I was just selling an enhancement spell, that’s all.’
‘What kind of enhancement spell?’
He grins at me, although I can tell it’s forced. ‘You know…’
‘No, O’Shea, I really don’t.’
He gestures at his crotch. ‘An enhancement spell.’
My cheeks colour. ‘For virility or for size?’
‘The bigger they are, darling, the harder they…’
I interrupt him. ‘Okay. I get it. Why the secrecy? Why there?’
‘It’s not exactly legal.’
‘Elaborate.’
‘There are some,’ he licks his lips, ‘side effects.’
I dread to think. Still, I need to know so I gesture for him to continue. He shrugs. ‘Well, you’re the one who brought up virility. Unfortunately the spell renders the recipient impotent. I mean, obviously they can still get it up.’ He laughs. ‘That’s rather the point. But in terms of being able to reproduce, well, the spell kind of takes that away.’
I don’t entirely understand. ‘But I’m sure there are lots of men who’d be more than willing than to undergo a magical vasectomy. No more worries about any little accidents…’
He frowns. ‘It’s not a vasectomy as such. Magic is unreliable and this spell in particular is base physical magic. You start messing with that and all sorts of things can happen. Virility is linked to testosterone. Testosterone is linked to behaviour.’
‘So take away virility and you take away testosterone. Take that away and you’re left with … what? Passive men?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘How can they,’ I cough awkwardly, ‘how can they get it up without testosterone?’
‘The spell contains a marker to artificially increase libido,’ he explains.
I nod like it makes sense. It
I crouch down. ‘Do you remember me?’
The corners of his mouth turn up. ‘Darling, how could I not?’
He’s flirting. Idiot. The slim file Tam provided me with before the debacle at Wiltshore Avenue told me one salient detail that O’Shea was now stupidly trying to conceal in a bid to charm me: I was most definitely not his type. I give him an exasperated look and I see comprehension dawn in his eyes.
‘Oh.’ He gives me a half grin. ‘You know I’m gay.’
‘Indeed.’
I settle myself at his feet, cross my legs, rest my chin on my hands and look at him.
‘Are you going to help me get out of this?’ he asks, holding up his chained wrist. The headboard rattles.
I shake my head.
He blinks at me with his large orange eyes. ‘You saved my life.’ It’s not a question.
‘Yes.’
‘So now you’re going to keep me tied to a bed to have your kinky way with me?’
‘We’ve already been through that.’ I keep my voice calm. The five martinis I recently downed help with that. ‘Though it’s not too late for me to change my mind about the saving your life part.’
There’s a flicker of doubt in his eyes, as if he’s already decided that a little girl like me wouldn’t have the stomach for it. He has no idea. After the last twenty-four hours, I’m prepared to do whatever it takes. Something in my manner finally makes him realise this because the doubt changes to fear. Good. I stretch my arm forward and lightly touch the wound on his torso. The fear grows.
‘Tell me what you were doing at the house.’
He swallows. ‘It’s my childhood home. I was taking a trip down memory lane.’
I press my fingers down and he gasps. ‘Okay, okay! There’s no need to go all Guantanamo on me. Jeez.’ He rolls his eyes as if I’m infringing on his human rights. Alright, I suppose I am. But I’ve got cause.
‘Tell me what you were doing at the house,’ I repeat. I know what Tam told me but I have no reason now to believe what he said.
O’Shea looks hangdog. Unfortunately for him, his sunset orange pupils remind me of my grandfather’s evil cat rather than a cute puppy.
‘Fine. It’s no big deal. I was just selling an enhancement spell, that’s all.’
‘What kind of enhancement spell?’
He grins at me, although I can tell it’s forced. ‘You know…’
‘No, O’Shea, I really don’t.’
He gestures at his crotch. ‘An enhancement spell.’
My cheeks colour. ‘For virility or for size?’
‘The bigger they are, darling, the harder they…’
I interrupt him. ‘Okay. I get it. Why the secrecy? Why there?’
‘It’s not exactly legal.’
‘Elaborate.’
‘There are some,’ he licks his lips, ‘side effects.’
I dread to think. Still, I need to know so I gesture for him to continue. He shrugs. ‘Well, you’re the one who brought up virility. Unfortunately the spell renders the recipient impotent. I mean, obviously they can still get it up.’ He laughs. ‘That’s rather the point. But in terms of being able to reproduce, well, the spell kind of takes that away.’
I don’t entirely understand. ‘But I’m sure there are lots of men who’d be more than willing than to undergo a magical vasectomy. No more worries about any little accidents…’
He frowns. ‘It’s not a vasectomy as such. Magic is unreliable and this spell in particular is base physical magic. You start messing with that and all sorts of things can happen. Virility is linked to testosterone. Testosterone is linked to behaviour.’
‘So take away virility and you take away testosterone. Take that away and you’re left with … what? Passive men?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘How can they,’ I cough awkwardly, ‘how can they get it up without testosterone?’
‘The spell contains a marker to artificially increase libido,’ he explains.
I nod like it makes sense. It
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