Work or starve her unborn child along with her or this.
She closed her fingers on the gold coins. "Yes. I accept."
He crushed her to him, and with desperate whimpers, seemed to feed on her. He lifted her off her feet, laid her back on the low table with the tiny china teacups and little platters of cookies. The children mannequins all grinned silently as they watched him move over her, weeping and whimpering.
When he pulled away from her, she thought it was to pull down his pants. Instead he fumbled out a leather bag and produced a thick pencil.
"No, no, no. Must be careful. Must be sure or they'll use their swords to put things right."
He held her still with one hand pinning her hard by the shoulder. With the fat greasy point of the pencil, he drew something on her stomach.
"What are you doing?"
"Shhhhhh." He pressed the pencil to her lips, his one eye bright. He drew another line and said something in Elvish that she didn't recognize. The lines of drawing gleamed momentarily and fluttered. He whispered another word and the light faded. He pressed his free hand to her belly, smearing the lines. "Perfect! Perfect!" He glanced around at the watching mannequins. "But not here. They'll be back and they will not want to stand around and wait for me to have my fill."
He meant the Wyverns. No, she rather not have them watching. She wasn't that brave.
She guessed the location of the freight elevator and that the newly arrived elves wouldn't know enough about department stores to cover it. She took Forest Moss down to the docks and out onto the street.
Where did she take him? Ginger Wine was nothing but rubble. She wanted bank rate of exchange on the bullion, not whatever a hotel would give her because she didn't have American dollars to pay for a room. Which left her house.
Feeling like she just stolen an elf lord, she guided him to her home.
#
The only highlight of the worse summer of her life been finding the Victorian house on Mount Washington to squat in. Yes, it was too big for her but the kitchen had a wood-burning stove, a sitting area big enough for a bed, tall windows that faced south, and high ceilings that made the room seem even bigger. She would be safe and warm all winter in the one room. If the war hadn't broken out, it would have been perfect.
She hadn't realized that she'd be bringing Forest Moss home with her. She nervously scanned the room after she'd pulled him inside and bolted the door behind him. Luckily she'd washed her breakfast dishes and left them drying in the rack. Her bed was a twin-sized futon on the floor. She'd washed her sheets and air-dried them just the day before. The half-finished quilt she was sewing by hand out of fabric remnants even managed to make the futon look like a real bed instead of a sheets spread out on the floor. She had Black Eyed Susan's in a coke bottle by her bed and herbs growing on the windowsills. Her place wasn't pretty as Aiofe's place but it felt cozy to her.
All the men she dealt with before had met her in cars and back alleys. She'd never brought any of them home. What did he think? She nervously put her keys on the counter and turned to Forest Moss.
He was still staring at her as if she was the only thing in the universe.
Her purse was heavy with the elf bullion. It thumped when she put it down on her battered table. He'd given her more that enough money to survive.
It was time for her to keep her part of the deal.
She turned off the light and stepped into his arms.
#
Peanut was right.
Elves were damn good at sex.
After six months of marriage and weeks of turning tricks, Olivia thought she knew everything about sex. The orgasm took her by surprise. She felt the familiar flutter of pleasure that she normally felt but then grew and grew and then went stomach-flexing, bolt of lightning good with all sorts of little aftershocks and jolts.
Not to say that she didn't know what she'd just experienced. She'd watch every man that ever been with her ride through the whole show. To finally know how good they'd felt every time made her feel used and cast aside like a condom. The injustice of it filled her with rage at the entire gender and she smacked Forest Moss.
"Is something wrong?"
"Yes." She didn't want to explain how screwed she been to been born a human female. "If my johns are feeling that great, I don't charge enough."
"I don't understand." The shadows hid his ruined eye. In the dim light, he was beautiful as any other elf. There was a glimmer on his cheek, and when she touched his face, she realized he was crying.
"You did nothing wrong." She reassured him.
#
He whimpered like a puppy as he slept, curled around her. In the morning, he wanted to stay naked, stay in bed, stay skin to skin. Since the baby books said that getting up slowly helped prevent morning sickness, she lay with him, embarrassed by the sunlight pouring through the windows, leaving her no place to hide.