Agnes’s talk of fey folk talking to her and the MacDougall family’s fey lock suddenly didn’t seem like a cause for laughter.
I swallowed hard, my arms tightening around me. “What?”
Callum sighed, eyes dropping down for a beat, and I swore my heart thudded so hard in my chest it would be a wonder if he couldn’t hear it.
“Callum?” I tried again, voice shaking. “Are you seriou—”
“I’m being a right bawbag, lass!” Callum crowed, laughter shaking his large frame. He sank against the door and slapped his hand against his chest. “You shoulda seen your face. White as a ghost!” His shoulders shook.
“You lied to me?!” I screeched.
“Of course! The fey are nothing but tales.” Callum chuckled and wiped at his eyes. “I couldn’t resist. Not with the way Agnes blathered on to ye.”
I shook my head and snatched up the pillow next to me. “Get out!” I hurled it at him as hard as I could. The pillow only bounced off him as he continued to laugh.
“Get some rest, Del. And dinna fash over the fey. They like their shut-eye as much as any Scot. You’ll be safe enough while you sleep.”
I rolled my eyes and pointed at the door. “Goodnight, Callum.”
He winked at me and I hated that the quick gesture hit me like a lightning bolt. “Sleep well,” he said, smiling.
The man looked entirely too good when he smiled. So good, in fact, I found myself smiling back despite his little prank not a minute before. I rolled my eyes at him, a gesture he returned before he left the room.
I listened to his footfalls grow fainter until I heard the front door to the flat close. Only then did I sit on the edge of the bed with a sigh. I was going to have to watch myself around Callum in the days and weeks of my apprenticeship, if I wanted to make it to the New Year with my heart in one piece.
Of that I was sure, fey magic or not.
