16. Thea

Chapter 16

Thea

R eaper usually slept cuddled to her side, or slightly draped over her face like he intended to suffocate her. Thea reached blindly across the bed, expecting to dig her hand into soft fur. Instead, she was met with nothing but sheets. Blinking awake sleepy eyes, she shot up in bed, finding Jax lounging on her sofa with another one of her books in his large hands.

He didn't look up or acknowledge she was even awake. He simply read the second book in the alien series, the one she hadn't even started yet. The first book, which he'd already violated with a pen, sat neatly beside him as if finished.

Shoving hair from her face, she slipped out of bed. "You said you'd leave." She'd never allowed a man to stay overnight before.

Jax finally looked up. "I did." His eyes lazily swept down her legs, and only then did she realise her T-shirt was barely long enough to cover her important parts. It wasn't exactly appropriate attire for a guest. But in all honesty, Jax could go fuck himself for all she cared.

"Then what are you doing here?" Not bothering to change her T-shirt, she tugged on a pair of jeans. "Wait, have you tidied?" Her clothes were in a neater pile than she left them, and she swore there had been dishes in the sink.

He was silent, so she let out a sound of annoyance as she brushed her fingers roughly through her hair.

He tapped the book he was reading. "I'm fascinated by the two cocks," he said, his face carved from stone.

"You're so full of shit." Thea's skin flushed, anger burning hot in her veins.

Reaching for the toe ring she'd placed on her bedside drawer, she hesitated when she noticed the fresh sunflower. It eased some of the anger, until she remembered he'd broken into her flat while she'd slept. And no amount of pretty flowers could help with that.

Men didn't sleep over. Ever. It was a rule, and he'd broken it.

Refusing to acknowledge the flower, she slipped on the ring, and within seconds, her naturally silver hair transformed into her favourite pastel pink.

She was proud of her heritage, and her ears already gave her away as one of the Fae. But her ears were easily hidden. Her hair wasn't. The pink was easily explained as a charm, but the silver of her natural hair couldn't be. It glistened as if it held strands of glitter, and while it was beautiful, it was more distinctive than the pink. More memorable because of how unusual it was, and impossible to dye without magic.

"Did you sleep here?" she asked, tucking her T-shirt into her jeans.

"No." Jax watched her get dressed with a predatory gaze. "I don't sleep."

Thea frowned at his words, the bag she grabbed swinging from her shoulder as she turned to face him. "What do you mean you don't sleep?"

Jax clenched his jaw, but that only highlighted the sheer angle. He must have shaved, his stubble closer to his skin than the night before, and he looked like he'd changed his clothes, too. He'd taken off his boots, which was probably the strangest thing to see his feet in socks – almost domesticated.

It took a moment to realise she'd been staring, the silence stretching.

His eyes darkened, and she fought against the weight of his gaze even as heat pulsed between them.

"You can leave now," she said, her voice suspiciously husky. Which only pissed her off more.

"Not until – "

Thea closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before thinking of her destination. Smiling at the familiar tingling of her magic, she flipped him her middle finger as she forced her body from her bedroom to the Troll market.

The pain was immediate, like lightning down her spine and into her butt. She'd landed too close to the ward, which was shrieking against her chi. Taking a step back, the pain relieved, allowing the racket of the market to overwhelm her senses.

The Troll market, owned by two Fae High Lords – elves, not trolls, disappointingly – was one of the most convenient places to buy anything within the Undercity. Weapons, black spells, drugs and other morally questionable products and services were offered without risk of police or Paladins. Normally, only those who owned a token for the specialised doorways were allowed to step foot inside. And to get a token, you either needed to have the obscene money to pay for one, have someone nominate you, or offer your own depraved services. Luckily for Thea, being a Fae who could drift, she had access without a token.

Which was great, because she had no intention of setting up a stall between a screaming banshee selling illegal Fae charms, and a black witch who sold handmade doilies, and decorative pillows with phrases such as, ‘sorry for the mean, awful, accurate things I said.' Or, ‘ go deepthroat a cactus.'

Picking up a pink cushion not too different from her hair, she smiled. "So, you can embroider anything?"

The witch sniffed, her pupils slightly dilated as she patted the cushion gently. "Anything you want, I can do."

Thea's smile turned into a grin. Accepting the pen and paper handed out, she wrote down exactly what she wanted before handing over a single Imp Ravyn.

The witch grabbed the small, black opal coin. "It'll take me about twenty minutes."

"I'll pick it up on my way back through."

With a jerky nod, the witch turned to the glittering threads set up neatly on a table behind.

The market was a cavernous room, with anti-violence wards engraved into the solid stone. Hundreds of multi-coloured awnings blocked the majority of the high ceilings, which was perfect because she couldn't stomach the cages that hung high above. Thea could hear pixie wings whistle as they rubbed together, as well as little voices calling for help. Apparently, she'd once been in a cage, and if it wasn't for her father, she'd likely have met a similar fate.

Not that she remembered anything. The fact she'd been only one year old and years of forced therapy helped with that.

Pushing herself past a larger than normal troll, his meaty hands pawing at a rather mouldy looking vegetable, she found the sign she was looking for.

"Hey Grey," she said with a short wave, the fence nodding at her.

"What are you doing here, sweet cheeks?" His smile was genuine, showing off his twin fangs. "Got something for me? Or you looking for Roach?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about the last job."

Grey – not his real name – frowned. "What about it?" He wore his usual leather apron, the T-shirt beneath designed as if he lived in the medieval times, and not in the twenty-first century. She always wondered if he was once a blacksmith. Not that she knew his true age. Apparently, it was rude to ask.

"Actually I wanted to know whether you still have the document?" she asked.

"What?" His frown turned into a scowl, his dark brows pulling together. "No, that's already exchanged hands."

"Okay. Don't suppose you have their name?"

"Why the fuck you asking that for?" Grey's eyes hardened, and Thea's stomach dipped at the sudden change. "You know the protocol." He scanned the crowd behind her, voice dropping to a whisper as he yanked her closer. "You want to get us killed?"

Fuck.

"I'm just making conversation," she added quickly, grunting as his fingers dug in hard enough to bruise. "I was in the market and thought I'd come say hello."

Grey eyed her warily, and anxiety prickled beneath her skin.

"I was wondering if you were free later," she continued. "You know, outside the market."

"Outside?" Grey's expression relaxed, and because she was a professional flirt, she fluttered her eyelashes and gently brushed along his arm until he released his grip. Her bones ached, and if she'd been human, he'd have likely broken them by mistake.

"We should get to know each other," she said. " Especially if we're going to work together more often now that Roach is training me."

Grey crossed his arms as he studied her. "Look, you're cute and all, but I don't do girls."

Shit. She should probably have known that.

"I was only asking as friends." Thea's forced smile turned into a grin. "Although, I know a guy who's looking for a new boyfriend. Maybe I can introduce you?"

Grey narrowed his eyes. "What's he look like?"

"Built like a mountain, blue eyes and has an attitude problem."

"Just my type." Grey's upper lip twitched. "I'll be at Blacklight tonight around ten. Bring your friend and I'll text when I'm there. If he's as hot as you say, I'll see about getting us a private booth."

Thea could barely contain her excitement. "Sounds great; I'll see you later."

She couldn't wait to tell Jax he had a date. She could already imagine his stoic face cracking into a scowl. Which was delightful.

With a last wave, she turned away, the market already busier as she had to shove past the main crowd. Forcing herself to the corner, an ember of irritation sparked to life as she spotted the cages haphazardly stacked together. Only a couple were straight, the other tipped at whatever angle they'd landed on and left. They were one of the only things in the entire market that were metal, the gold and brass tarnished and uncared for.

A few years ago every cage would be full of pixies, or other creatures stolen from Asherah and sold as collectables or pets. Since the doorways had been shut by the courts several years ago, the cages had grown empty as hunting grew sparse. She'd heard there were still ways to travel through the veil between realms, but clearly not for the bitch who owned the stall.

Moving closer, she browsed like she was interested. The pixies inside hushed, terrified, and Thea very slowly brushed her fingers against the lock. The owner was too busy talking to a potential customer to notice, and Thea had yet to be caught.

Glitter tickled her nose, the pixies huddled together only slightly larger than her palm. They were supposed to be vibrant; instead, their iridescent wings were dulled and limp on their shoulders. Even their clothes were muted, fabric torn and dirty. Nothing compared to the pixies she knew who worked at the Three Headed Dog. Pixies were exceedingly rare, requiring more wild magic to survive than other Fae. Unless they had regular access to Asherah, or a strong enough substitute, they couldn't survive.

The pixies cowered, and Thea turned just as one of the assistants came over.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" she asked, her smile revealing several rows of pointed teeth.

"Yeah, how much for one?" Anxiety scratched beneath her skin.

What the fuck was she doing?

She couldn't just leave them. But she couldn't risk her access to the market, either.

"They're a pixie for a pixie," the assistant chuckled. "I also have a few skins available, a rare dragon hide and a – "

"I'll take just the pixie, thank you." Thea begrudgingly handed over the black opal coin, one worth roughly a thousand pounds.

Fuck. She hadn't brought too many Ravyns with her, and she wasn't sure how much she had stashed back at home. If Jax was true to his word, she'd have enough money to pay for her father's treatment. But what about next time ?

The assistant nodded, pulling on a velvet glove before slipping a traditional key into the lock. She had no idea what type of Fae she was. Likely a faerie, considering there were about five hundred million bloody variations. Maybe even a relative of the siren if Thea went by the gills and random scales.

"No, you'll never take me alive!" one of the pixies said, smacking at the assistant's hand as she reached inside and grabbed him around the waist. "I'll infect your pillow with itching powder, you nasty old hag!"

"I'll just box him up for you." Locking up the cage, she pocketed the key once more. "I'll only be a moment." Taking the screaming pixie, the assistant walked him to the side, leaving a trail of glitter.

Thea backed up to the cage, waiting until everyone was distracted before returning her attention to the lock. The wards carved into the walls pulsed, designed to stop any acts of violence. But they also suppressed much of the magic, which meant the lock was simply a lock. One she'd picked a thousand times.

Pulling out her kit, it took her twenty seconds to align the pins. The door opened with a slight creak, luckily not loud enough to be heard above all the other sounds.

"You need to count until fifteen before escaping," she explained quietly, showing the three remaining pixies how the door easily opened with a slight push. "Do you understand?"

One of the girls stood, hesitantly stepping closer with an outstretched hand.

"Fifteen seconds, okay?" Thea whispered once more, stepping back just as the assistant returned with her pixie.

"I'm going to cut open your skin and fuck your organs!" he screeched, throwing his small body from one side of the box to the other .

"He's a feisty one," the assistant laughed. "But just so you know, there's no returns."

Of course not, Thea thought.

"Thank you." Taking the box, Thea quickly made her way back to where the witch was finishing up her embroidered pillow.

A loud gasp, followed by a shout that echoed around the cavern. Turning, Thea smiled at the three sets of glitter trails high up on the ceiling.

"I'm going to destroy everyone you love!" her pixie shrieked.

The witch eyed the box with a raised brow, and Thea simply smiled. "My pillow?"

A thump against the cardboard. "I swear, if you don't let me out, I'll curse your firstborn child with a fat head! I'll make sure your vagina will tear so bad you'll never – !"

"Shut up!" Thea hissed, politely nodding to the shoppers, who looked over at her, horrified. "I'm trying to save you."

"Fuck you, you droopy titted twat-muffin!"

Thea laughed nervously as the witch glared. "We're having some adjustment issues."

"Hmm," she hummed, handing over the finished pillow. "Good luck with that."

"Yeah, thanks," Thea said, grinning as she brushed her fingers across the thread.

She ignored the threats rumbling from the box, because the pillow was perfect, and she knew exactly who she was gifting it to.