The Sleeper's Harp (The Arcane Artifacts, #1)

Chapter 4 - Facing a Goblin

"Why were you in the coffee shop today? Have you been following me? Are you with them?" I demanded of the goblin I was currently clinging to, trying to ignore the pain in my wrist.

"Them, who?"

"Those guys in the alley. Luke."

He gave a dismissive snort. "No."

Some of the tension fled my shoulders. I opened my mouth, more questions forming on my lips. He rounded another corner, accelerating into it, stealing the breath from my chest, forcing me to silence. The city gave way to smaller buildings and then suburbs. He continued at three times the speed limit, dodging a slow-moving train of cars, shooting straight past them.

My stomach lurched with every movement. "Going a little fast, don't you think?" I barked.

"Not fast enough."

I spoke through clenched teeth. "No one's following us. I'm pretty sure at this speed, you already lost them." Actually, I wasn't sure they'd even bothered to follow. He gave an answering grunt. "You might be a goblin, but I'm not. So, if we crash..."

A beat of silence. "We're not going to crash. But even if we did, I would keep you safe."

I blinked.

Safe.

I wouldn't admit how that word affected me. How desperately I craved safety. Especially knowing what it was like to live without it. Warmth spread through my chest. It shouldn't have, but it did. I exhaled.

Larger houses dotted the landscape, half hidden by trees. The rich liked their privacy. We passed into Kentwood. A few minutes later the goblin veered off the road, up an asphalt drive. I blinked, taking in my surroundings. My eyes narrowed. Where the hell were we going?

Trees lined both sides of the drive, obscuring everything from view. Then they thinned and a house appeared. A massive craftsman with a light blue shingled exterior and white accents, a large porch, and huge windows that glowed with warmth. My chest caved in. It was...stunning. Not like most houses on this street. Not loud and obnoxious. But also not the type of house I would have expected, assuming it was his.

That did all sorts of things to my curiosity, which I hated.

We pulled into a sweeping circle drive and parked in front. "Off," he barked. I scrambled off the bike and the goblin followed. Holding my injured wrist to my chest, I struggled with one hand to remove my helmet. A pair of hands reached for me, sliding it free. My pink hair messily fell into place around my shoulders.

The goblin stared down at me, expression unreadable. All it took was one blink; a transparent image of his goblin form overlaid him, betraying his glamor. He was positively breathtaking, even without glamor, even with skin the shade of brushed aluminum. I blinked again and his regular appearance returned. The helmet he took disappeared. His was gone, too.

"Give me your wrist," he snapped, impatient. I ground my teeth together and hesitated. He sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you, little female. Let me see it."

Setting my jaw, I offered it to him, wincing when he reached for it. I needn't have worried. His fingers were shockingly gentle. My eyes zeroed in on those beautifully masculine hands, on his ringed fingers as they pressed the swollen area. Those hands on me...even with my pain, my body's betrayal irked me.

He pressed near the vein on my wrist's underside and I flinched. "Ow," I breathed.

He hummed, going still. "Broken, I think."

I'd felt the crack. "I think so, yes."

"This will feel hot," he warned, right before his thumb stroked over the bottom of my wrist. Searing heat made me flinch. My body went guarded, tensing up, but I didn't pull away. I'd felt so much worse, once. This was nothing, comparatively.