Page 11 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

Gunshots rang out from the end of the alley—Luke’s people. The goblin lifted a hand, waving it through the air. Bullets around us exploded into dust. We skidded out onto the main drag. I cried out, tightening my hold on him, as the pain in my wrist sent knives up my arm.

The goblin slowed, coming to a stop several streetlights down. “Put this on,” he shouted over the roar of his bike. A sleek helmet appeared in his hand. He held it over his left shoulder. When I didn’t immediately grab it, he shook it to get my attention. I released my uninjured arm and took it, shoving it over my head. It was a perfect fit.

“That’s better,” came the low voice in my ear. I jerked in surprise. There were mics and speakers in the helmets.

The goblin took off again, melting into traffic.

“Want to tell me what the fuck you were thinking, going outside like that?” His voice had morphed into the same asshole tone he’d used in the coffee shop.

“I…”

Tears clouded my vision. What had I been thinking? I knew better than to slip outside alone, even though the alley behind Vortex was—or had been—relatively safe in my experience. My coworkers often stepped back there for a smoke break or for peace and quiet. But most of them were supernaturals.

They didn’t have a dangerous ex hunting them. Just earlier, I’d thought it was Luke in the crowd, then chastised myself for being so paranoid. All it took was a panicked call—probably staged. I’d rushed right out into harm’s way.

“At least this time you walked into actual danger instead of just me,” the goblin muttered, as if reading my thoughts.

A tangled mess of emotions crashed over me. Anger, that after how hard I had worked, I’d barely managed to do anything against Luke. Humiliation, that I still needed rescuing. That my body barely responded and hadn’t been strong enough. That I had wasted precious moments panicking.

I was so tired of being weak—all because of him.

I took in a gulp of air, then another, and another, trying to blink away the tears from my vision. What was the point of the past two years, if I was going to freeze up when it mattered most?

I realized I was trembling, clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering as the adrenaline that flooded my system began to abate.

Traffic thinned and the bike picked up speed, surging forward. Buildings streaked past. We were speeding through the city, weaving in and out of cars. The bike handled the curves with ease, as did the goblin I was practically wrapped around. I felt the bunch of his muscles as his body responded, leaning into each one.

“We have to go back,” I finally managed to say. I needed to tell Eaden what had happened, though he probably already knew. There were cameras on the back side of the building. My only hope was that he might protect me from Luke…somehow.

“Is that so?” purred the goblin.

“Please. I need to go back.”

“Don’t think so, sugar.”

“My name’s Rose,” I bit out.

We took a sharp turn and I tightened my grip on him. Pain shot up my arm and I whimpered. His muscles tensed beneath me, in response to the sound. “Are you hurt?” The question softened his voice.

“My wrist. I think… I think it’s broken.”

He made a growly sound in the back of his throat but said nothing else.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere safe. We’ll be there soon enough, then we can see to your wrist.” He revved the engine and we jumped forward, accelerating as if my admission had spurred him on.

High-rise buildings began to thin, replaced with smaller structures and warehouses.

Trying to distract myself from the pain, I said, “Why were you in the coffee shop today?”

“Hold on tight,” was all he said in answer. The road opened up. He put his bike into gear and we shot forward.

I sucked in a breath as my stomach lurched, pain making my nausea rise. “Going a little fast, don’t you think?”

“Not fast enough.”

“No one’s following us,” I bit out through clenched teeth. “Not at this speed. You might be a goblin⁠—”