Page 13 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

“Your phone—where is it?” He held out his hand, waiting.

Cold realization slipped into my belly. If Luke had gotten ahold of the number to lure me outside, could he be using it to track me? I pulled it from my pocket. The goblin snatched it. A second later, it disappeared, just like the helmets had.

“Wait, you can’t just take my phone! That’s like⁠—”

“Looks like I just did. Now, get inside.”

“You expect me to…walk in there?”

“Need me to use smaller words?”

“Not sure. I don’t speak asshole.”

His gaze hardened. “Then we're going to have communication problems, sugar, because it's my native tongue.”

“What happened to toning it down?!” I shot back.

“Let’s go.” He moved behind me, prodding my back between my shoulder blades, sending me forward involuntarily.

“Excuse me?” I rounded on him. “What. The. Actual. Fuck?!”

He made a sound of annoyance, then reached for me. My training chose that moment to kick in—better late than never. My fist flew through the air and I landed a satisfying right hook to his cheek. I heard a crunch. For a moment, I smugly thought I’d broken his jaw. He stumbled backwards, more from shock than anything as his eyes clouded over with surprise. He swiped away blood where I’d busted his lip⁠—

And then the pain hit.

“Holy…fuck,” I screeched, shaking my hand out. “Owww. Ow, ow, ow.” It struck all at once, nearly as bad as my broken wrist. I tried to move my fingers, only for it to intensify.

The goblin swore under his breath, eyes darkening at the sight of my injury. “You are so fucking reckless.” Then, with a wave of his hand, my entire body seized up and I could no longer move. I screeched in fury as I struggled against the invisible bonds. “Going to have to hog-tie you if you can’t stop getting yourself into trouble.”

“Let me go,” I seethed.

“It’s for your own fucking good.” Another wave of his hand and I was suddenly floating inches off the ground.

He stalked for the house.

“You can’t treat me like this—!” Another invisible bond wrapped around my mouth cutting off the remainder of my tirade. The more I struggled the worse it got. His magic clamped around me so tightly I couldn’t do more than jerk my head. My arms were pinned at my side, the fingers of my injured hand screaming.

The front door loomed before us. He punched in a code on the tech security panel before pressing a finger against the pad. There was a zapping sound followed by a dim blue glow that momentarily blanketed the house before disappearing.

If I hadn’t been so angry I might have been impressed.

He stepped inside, then used his magic to propel me through the door and into the entryway. The door slammed behind us and the magical leash around me disappeared. My feet dropped two inches, landing with a thud on the wood floor.

“You are such a fucking asshole—” The words ended in a hiss as my hand flared with pain—because I’d tried to clench it.

He whirled around and lifted it, clicking his tongue as he examined my broken bones. “Second time tonight, sugar. Let’s not make a habit of this, yeah?” A warm rush flowed beneath my skin and the injury disappeared.

I sagged with relief, my anger dissipating.

“Not going to apologize?” he said, lifting an eyebrow.

“You deserved it.”

The corner of his mouth twitched but he merely dropped my hand and walked away.

I took in the interior of the house. Everything was designed with comfort and style in mind. Through an arch on my left, I spotted an elaborately carved dining table and chairs, presided over by a chandelier filled with glittering orbs. On my right, a spacious sitting room was dominated by a luxurious dark blue sectional. It was covered in knitted blankets and throw pillows. There was a detached ottoman with a wooden tray. It held a vase of fresh cut flowers and an electric candle display.

Soft lights glowed from lamps and wall sconces around the room. Tasteful art hung from the walls, showing black and white images of the city. A giant television screen sat above a gas fireplace, framed in gold. Like it was a fancy painting.